#Madame ping

[averaillisa]

old timers

[rubikor]

old lady appreciation!

[kc-art-stuff]

mahjong game 🀄

this is probably the most detailed thing ive ever drawn i feel so insane,, keep reading for some of the details you might have missed!!

first the shelf:

1st layer: shenyu and ganyu framed childhood pics

2nd layer: suspensus somium mechanism (furniture from xianyun's sq), the cloud retainer pet, the windmill thing from xianyun's trailer, the one she gave ganyu

3rd layer: scrolls and books one of them labeled "baby pics"

4th later: sunglo tea (the tea xianyun bought during the lantern rite event)

the side of the shelf has postcards from chenyu vale, and the kite shenhe and ganyu made leaning on it

ganyu dlsu grad pic AHJKSDF its a chinoy au now,,

for the calendar, there's no reason why i chose september 2023,, its just bc its the only reference i could find for this type of calendar. also the date encircled is sept 7 which is chongyun's birthday (重云 is written on it)

shenhe on the lower left corner bringing them tea, a fan is on the lower right corner. a vase of glaze lilies instead of guizhong huhu sorry

i tried my best to make the game as accurate and detailed as possible, ping is winning only waiting for the 三萬 tile (which is the one xianyun is discarding), ping also has a kong which is more points afaik (ty for the info poppy <3) mountain shaper is losing bc he has no consecutive tiles or 3 tiles of a kind. zhongli and ping also have flowers which also gives them extra points. this is all based on how me and my family would play mahjong so if its not accurate,, idk HADFAJSDF also i didn't count all the tiles bc there are 144 and i want this piece to be detailed but not THAT detailed,, anyway THAT'S ALL <3 i spent around 3 days working on this it's kinda insane.

[121231212i]

[afreysia]

a bell that stole the sky and clogged my ears

[kemalamalam]

[blackhuajia]

Though this heart still beating, 

It had shattered long ago..

(i still am not moved on from Ping and Guizhongs story lmao)

[khesi]

"Though the strings that played that melody survive, the one who inspired it is gone...when the one attuned to my soul is no longer here, who else could hope to understand this tune?"

[homuras]

✧ Echoes of the Heart ✧

[averaillisa]

Happy birthday Zhongli! 🔶🥰

[c6jpg]

We think of human life as like a lantern that's lit one minute and extinguished the next, but are we adepti so different? Perhaps, as dust settles after a storm, we too must one day return to the world below.

[rubikor]

the silly old people

[mielwriting]

Adepti Family Dinner

A fic I wanna write someday!

When the adepti find out about Ganyu and Keqing's relationship, they organize a get together to get to know Keqing on a more personal note. The original guest list is Cloud Retainer, Shenhe, Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper, Madame Ping, Zhongli, Xiao, Ganyu, and Keqing.

Keqing is worried the dinner will be spent with the adepti scrutinizing her as a partner for Ganyu, but to her surprise they sing her praises the whole night. The scrutiny is directed toward Childe, who is there as Zhongli's partner.

Venti, being Xiao's partner, also shows up during the dinner.

This is how Keqing and Shenhe learn the identities of both Rex Lapis and Barbatos in a single evening.

[finisnihil]

Genshin dropping Madame Ping's lore in an event was absolutely vile like how dare they just give us the most heart-wrenchingly tragic sapphic rivalry. An inventor and an artist constantly arguing and Xianyun dragging Zhongli into it to mediate. They soon grow closer and one day Guizhong dies so suddenly and horrifically it makes Madame Ping rethink her ideas of immortality and death and descend to the human realm.

All she carries with her is a bell, made by Guizhong, a bell she previously viewed as unable to depict the soul in the way human-made music could. But it's not that anymore. In the way Madame Ping depicts the soul through music, Guizhong depicted it through creation. That bell carried Guizhong's soul, a soul she entwined with Madame Pings. That's why Zhongli gave it back to her when Madame Ping left for the mortal world.

When Zhongli requests the bell for his funeral, it carries so much more weight. He isn't just requesting a ceremonial bell, he's requesting Guizhong's soul and love, he's requesting a mourner who departed far earlier than him. He's also requesting a blessing from Madame Ping, to live as a human.

Madame Ping takes the appearance of an elderly woman, somebody who is weary and full of wisdom. She has lived lifetimes and she shows it in her form. She mentors young creators around her, Xiangling, Yanfei, Yaoyao and the like. She gives the Traveler a teapot, so they have a place to call home for a little while. She cares for the glaze lillies, because they are the scattered notes of the torn sheet music that's Guizhong's love for humanity. She doesn't play music anymore, because the only one who could hope to understand her tune, the one attuned to her soul, is gone.

Her last song was to mourn Guizhong because grief is love with nowhere to go. She put it in music created with callused hands, like Guizhong's making of the bell. She played for a lantern, a love, a ghost.

She played for Guizhong.

[telephonedear]

JUST SAYING i think that it’d be cool asf if we didn’t see the archons faces until the very end of their archon quest. like, every now and then you’d catch part of a side profile, or they’d turn and you’d just miss their face. i’d be on the edge of my SEAT tryna see their faces.

obviously, it would be very difficult to do and hard to accurately portray them/their emotions, but i just think it’d be such an interesting way to wrap up each story 🤷‍♀️

[scaredpigeons]

Sunrise, Crystallize I: to pray to a fallen deity.

Masterlist // Next Chapter

Zhongli x Gn!reader

SFW (there will be nsfw chapters but I will keep them separate so everyone may enjoy.)

Word count: 6.2k

You find yourself seeking solace in the prayers you speak to the god of your new home, despite the fact that he’s passed away. Despite the fact that no one answers, your loneliness seems to be lessened by the warmth of the sunrise. You gain a few new companions, and push through your awkward and nervous disposition to embark on a challenge that you may or may not have little hope of succeeding in.

CW: reader has anxiety, real deep lack of self confidence. Very socially awkward. Reader is a florist, running a greenhouse in the harbour. (Author has absolutely zero florist experience or knowledge, so many apologies.)

Authors note: this is the first chapter of many to come, as Zhongli was my first love in genshin impact. This is kind of self indulgent, because while I really enjoy badass, beautiful, desirable reader inserts who exemplify everything I want to be, part of me really fantasizes about what it might be like to have such a desirable character love me not despite of, but because of my self-perceived flaws. I also think that Zhongli is a wonderful character to explore this dynamic with, as he’s incredibly patient and thoughtful, and having lived for 6000+ years— I can really see him finding someone who is socially his opposite very charming. Anyways, please enjoy this first chapter!

———————

Watching the sun rise on Yujing Terrace had become your most beloved pastime since the death of Rex Lapis. You’d never really ventured up the steps further than Bubu pharmacy, but after everything that happened, you decided to go and pay your respects in a more private setting. 

You hadn’t attended the rite of parting. It felt too strange, seeing as you weren’t from Liyue, but you’d lived in the harbor long enough to feel a little twinge of guilt afterwards. 

The attack on the harbor had halted your plans, you really hadn’t wanted to venture outside when there was an ancient sea god wreaking havoc in the waters just beyond your home. But once everything was settled, and the novelty of Rex lapis’ passing finally became outshone by recent events, you decided it was time. 

You’d spent all evening working in your greenhouse, realizing the night had escaped you only when your eyes barely skimmed across a clock on your way to grab fresh potting soil from your storage room. You’d figured beating the morning rush to the terrace was better for your sanity, and washed your hands before heading out. 

The sun had not begun to rise, everything washed in fading starlight as you made your way up the stone stairs. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that only the Milileth were occupying the terrace, a few standing guard here and there and a few making their rounds. 

One soldier looked at you a bit warily, most likely wondering why you were here so early. But he only nodded politely when you sheepishly showed him your box of incense. 

When you made it to the topmost part of the terrace, you lit a singular stick and placed it in the holder. You’d seen people immediately murmuring their prayers after lighting their incense, but you weren’t really sure what to say, so you walked around a bit before standing at the railing facing east over the harbor. 

The water looked so peaceful. The sky had started brightening, the first glimmers of the rising sun peeking up from the horizon, casting early shadows along the boats and buildings. 

You took a deep breath, pushing your exhale further than normal. Your chest felt strange, You’d never really prayed to anyone before. 

“Um…” you fiddled with your hands on the stone railing, watching the sun rise ever so slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t attend your rite of parting. Crowds are really not my thing.” 

You felt too strange to say his name out loud, hoping that wherever the wind took your words would eventually lead to wherever he was resting. Where did gods go when they die? 

“I’ve not lived in the harbor long, but I can see why you loved it. Though I have been here long enough to understand the love you must have had for your people, and the love they gave to you in return. Despite that, I feel as though we’re all going to be just fine in your absence.” 

You cringed a little, wondering if your words came across too crass or irreverent. 

“Ah, well, what I mean to say is you shouldn’t worry.” you chewed on your lip, watching more shadows form along the harbor as the sun grew and grew over the sea, bathing the sky in oranges and pinks.

“Oh, what else do people say when they do this…” you mumbled. “People usually ask for blessings or good fortune, don’t they? I’ve never really understood that. I won’t ask for anything… or is that rude too?” You could never remember the protocol for things like this. 

“Maybe I’ll just ask for happiness. If you can send some sense of fulfillment my way, that would be nice. But don’t put yourself out or anything.” 

You scoffed at yourself, rolling your eyes as you gazed out at the sea. “Or maybe I should just give my blessing to you. Does anyone do that? Ask for blessings and good fortune for you?” 

You shook your head, leaning on the railing and smiling at yourself a bit. It felt like you were talking to yourself, but it wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as you thought. 

“Well then, I ask that you rest in peace. You deserve it after the multiple millennia you endured. I can't imagine having to work for that long, sounds exhausting.” You yawned, stretching out your limbs. 

It was strange, you felt tired— obviously. Being up all night was not exactly ideal, but standing there, watching the beautiful sun rise over your city, you couldn’t help but feel a warm wash of pure… peace. You felt good. You didn’t feel so alone. 

You looked around a bit, still seeing that no one was near you, before looking up half heartedly at the sky. 

“Is that you? Is that why people do this sort of thing?” You smiled as the sun finally broke its way from the water, painting the sky in all its glorious colors. 

Hmm. Perhaps I should design a new sunrise themed bouquet. 

You rubbed the tiredness from your eyes as you made your way back to the stairs, but as you walked through the first archway, your eyes caught sight of the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. 

He was standing, holding a cup of tea while he chatted with an elderly woman at her table. The warm, early sunlight bathed him in its amber hues, making the colors of his clothing gleam, and exposing the rich warm tones of his hair. 

He was exceptionally tall, that much you could tell, even from so far away. He held himself with such grace and poise that you couldn’t help but stare. He looked like royalty. He looked like he belonged on a throne, not walking amongst the common people. 

His smile was small but contagious— you’d pressed a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you were grinning as he did down at the little old lady in front of him. 

The woman chuckled a bit, before turning to the small flower bed behind her, before picking one of the flowers that was growing there. 

A glaze lily? They were extremely rare, you knew that for certain. They hardly grew in the wild, which is why you hadn’t bothered to grow them for your shop yet, as you harvested the majority of your seeds by yourself. 

He took the delicate flower in his gloved hand, bringing it to his nose and taking what looked like a deep breath. Your heart lurched as his face became almost solemn, but he pushed a smile through and nodded to the woman, saying something you couldn’t hear. 

You couldn’t help but watch as he finished his tea, his striking eyes scanning around the terrace. It was a moment too late when you realized his eyes were eventually going to fall on you. You— who was watching him like some sort of lunatic. 

His eyes met yours for the briefest of moments, and even from a distance they seemed to burn in the early morning sunshine. You instantly flushed, an embarrassing noise fluttering past your lips as you turned around and hid behind the archway, hoping that it looked like you were just heading back towards the overlook. 

You took several deep breaths before you dared peek around the corner again, sighing in relief as you watched the beautiful man make his way down the steps. 

That was the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done. You thought, before shaking your head as memories of far more embarrassing events flooded your brain. Actually, never mind. That was pretty far down on the list. 

You almost thought that perhaps you never wanted to see that man again, for fear of embarrassing yourself once more— but that thought was quickly swept away. It would be a shame never to see him again. He was far too pretty. 

———————

it was about a month into your new habit when the elderly woman called out to you. 

You were simply making your way back towards the stairs, having only ever greeted her with a polite nod or a rushed “good morning!” Here and there, so you were surprised when she called you over and invited you for tea. 

You introduced yourself, and she smiled, pouring you a cup. 

“Ah, you’re the young one running that new flower shop, yes?” 

You nodded. “Yes ma’am. ‘New beginnings: flowers and things.’ I sell little trinkets and gifts here and there when I collect them on my travels. But mostly it's just my flowers.”

”oh, you little darling. No need to be so formal. You can call me granny if you like— or Ping. Either or.”   

Normally you wouldn’t be so formal with someone you’d just met, especially an elder, but there was something about Ping that made you feel so comfortable. 

“Alright, Granny.” You smiled. 

“Much better. “ she said, taking her seat. “Now why don’t you tell me all about your shop. I was very surprised when I heard that someone had built a little greenhouse in the city.” 

And so began your new routine of waking up early to watch the sunrise— talking to yourself under the guise of “praying to Rex Lapis”, and having your morning tea while chatting with Madame Ping. 

Ping turned out to be quite the gossip, and you got most of your updates on the comings and goings of the people through her. You learned about her disciples, though you weren’t quite sure what she was a master of. She seemed very wise, having many a tale to tell and advice on things that plagued you. 

One morning you brought her a speciality bouquet of Cecelia’s, one of your more popular flowers, and she gushed about how thoughtful you were. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I stole one from the bouquet earlier and left it on the overlook as an offering with my incense.” You said, sipping your tea. 

“Nonsense, they’re your flowers to begin with, dear. I never would have even known if you hadn’t said something.” She pulls a vase from beneath her table, and pours some water from her nearby jug inside. Ping places the flowers in the vase, fluffing up the greenery to look nice and setting it on the other end of her table. 

“There, just beautiful. Thank you my dear.” She says, sitting back down.

”It's really no trouble. They’re some of my last Cecelias, my recent batch of seedlings went bad. I'll have to make a trip to Mondstadt to collect more seeds soon.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“If you need someone to watch over the shop for you while you’re gone, I’m well acquainted with a traveler who is just perfect for odd jobs like that when they have the time.” 

“Oh,” you said, looking out at the colors fading from the sky. “That might be nice, I’ve been putting off going out because I’m not too sure who I can trust to watch the greenhouse.” 

You were trying hard to hide your wavering tone, but you knew immediately Madam Ping had caught on. 

“Is there something else on your mind, dear?” She said, “You know you can talk to me about anything that troubles you.” 

You paused, looking around a bit before you took a deep breath. “It’s just…”

Chewing your lip, you sighed at her kindness. You knew better than to be anxious around Ping, but your embarrassment over what you had been doing the last month was eating at you. 

“Is it strange that I've been… praying to Rex Lapis every morning, even though he’s no longer with us?” 

“Ah,” Ping hummed, her eyes glittering with mirth. “I had been wondering what you do over there before the sun rises. When you said you left a flower as an offering, I thought perhaps you prayed to a lost loved one, but Rex Lapis?” 

“I know— it's odd isn’t it? I don’t even know if gods still hear prayers when they pass but—“ 

“Nonsense.” She interrupted your downward spiral, her tone light to soothe you. “There are plenty of people who still pray to our fallen archon. And I can guarantee you that wherever he is resting— those prayers still make it through to him, and crystal clear at that. He may not be able to descend from the heavens as a magnificent dragon to grant the wishes of his followers anymore, but he will always bear witness to our prayers, of that you can be certain.” 

“Oh,” you breathed. You weren’t sure if you believed her, but you didn’t want to seem rude. “Do you think it bothers him? To hear so many people while he is trying to rest?” 

“I’m sure the requests for wealth and glory get rather tedious very quickly.” Madame Ping laughs. “But what do you pray to him for?” 

You flush, running your finger along your teacup. “I don’t really ask him for anything. I just sort of… tell him about things?” You shrug, feeling rather sheepish. 

Ping simply nods, encouraging you to continue. 

“I wasn’t really ever certain he could even be listening. It just feels nice to get things off my chest, you know?” You took another sip of tea. “I feel sort of bad, I mainly just vent to him— it’s kind of like chatting with you, granny. Only I say things I might not be comfortable sharing with others.”

Ping hums, staring out over the harbor thoughtfully. 

“I’m sure your kind of prayers are the most interesting to him. Perhaps even his favorite.” She says after a few moments. 

“Really?” You scrunched up your nose a bit. “I find that sort of hard to believe.” 

Ping smiled, and her eyes seemed to glitter with something unknown. She always seemed to be brimming with unobtainable knowledge, it kept you clinging to her every word in hopes of soaking it up. 

“It was once said that after so many years of being a god— watching over his people and nation with the weight of thousands of years of history and bloodshed upon his shoulders — that Rex Lapis would don a disguise and wander among his people, to gain a taste of what it was like to be human.” She gathered your empty teacup, placed it on the tray with the rest of the tea set and put it aside. “I think perhaps your prayers would remind him of simpler times, of what it is like to be human.”

You let her words ruminate for a while, watching as the harbor started to wake up— typically your sign to tuck tail and run home. 

Finally, you spoke. 

“Do you think he enjoyed my flower offering?” You asked. 

Ping smiled wide, eyeing her bouquet of Cecelias. 

“I think it's a lovely gesture, but he was particularly fond of the glaze lily. Perhaps those— as opposed to the anemo archons favored flower would be more fitting.”

You cringed. You hadn’t even registered that Cecelia’s were known as Barbatos’ favorite flower. After giving yourself a mental scolding, and a reminder to brush up on your international flora guidebook, you hesitantly spoke up once more. 

“I’d love to, but I harvest my own seeds, Granny. I wouldn’t even know where to look for wild glaze lilies. Aren’t they extremely rare?” 

She pulled a little sack from beneath her table — she always seemed to have whatever she needed right on hand, how curious. — and gently placed it in your hands. 

“These are quite old, but I have a feeling if anyone will be able to get them to sprout, it will be you, dear.” 

————————————

You weren’t very hopeful. 

Seeds, when preserved under the perfect conditions, can last up to ten years. But extremely rare and delicate flower seeds tucked in a sack under Madam Pings table? 

You started small; putting six seeds into six little nursery pots, and diligently reading up on the proper humidity, soil, nutrients and water required for glaze lilies. Within the week, small little green shoots were poking through the soil, and you nearly jumped for joy. 

The revelry was short lived when the following week you entered the nursery to find six shriveled up, sad, and very dead plants. You cussed under your breath as you stomped around your greenhouse, reading through your glaze lily guide and wondering what went wrong. 

You had plenty of seeds, plenty of room for trial and error. 

You just did not expect the trial and error to last several months. 

It was the morning after you found your most recent batch absolutely ruined. The humidity or the hydration levels were off, they had to be. What other reason would they have turned to mush for? You’d abandoned the guidebook long ago, it was a lying liar who killed your plants before they even budded. 

“It’s just so frustrating, you know?” You said, leaning against the railing of the overlook. “I feel like if I can't do this, then my entire life as a florist has been for nothing.” 

There was no response, but you sort of enjoyed that. You still weren’t sure if you entirely believed Madam Ping when she said that the archon could still hear you, but you’d never stopped your ranting and rambling to him either way. 

“I know, I know. I’m being dramatic.” You flicked a pebble off the railing, watching as it tumbled down into the trees below. “This started out as me just wanting to give you a proper offering, one that you’d like. But now it feels like something I’m meant to do. If I can find a way to make Glaze Lilies more prosperous in Liyue again, I feel as though that would be a much better gift in your honor—  as opposed to just… sitting one on the terrace to get stolen or blown away in the wind.” 

Still no answer, but once again you were enveloped by that warm and lustrous feeling of peace as the sun rose over the water. Perhaps you were becoming addicted to this feeling. You certainly would not feel as ready to get through another day without it. 

You gave a deep sigh, thinking long and hard before you decided it was time to ask for help. 

“Granny?” You said as you made your way to her table. “Do you know anyone who has information on how Glaze Lilies were cultivated in the past?”

——————————

You were absolutely filthy. 

Your knees were coated in dirt, wet soil clinging to your arms where your gloves didn’t cover. You were nearly certain your hair was a complete disaster. 

None of that mattered. Your other plants were thriving, your shop was freshly stocked with premade bouquets and trimmed flowers for custom bouquets. You just unloaded your shipment of silk ribbons and wrapping paper, and were now nearly elbow deep in buckets of potting soil for your Mourning flowers. 

They required a specific blend of nutrients and earth in comparison to your other flowers, and with your newest batch almost ready to trim, you needed to get a move on with the new growth before they all sold out. 

You had just finished the mixing when the bell on the front door of your shop jingled. 

“Just a moment, I’ll be right with you!” You yelled out. 

The greenhouse was built connected to the shop which housed your little apartment on the second floor. 

Everything was relatively close, so you often worked in the greenhouse during the slow hours. And that damned bell was so loud, though you supposed it had to be, otherwise you could run the risk of people sneaking in and taking what they’d like. Now, you didn’t think that was likely to happen, but it never hurt to be cautious. 

You tossed your gloves onto the nearby counter and washed your hands with the bulle fruit scented soap by the sink. 

You took off your dirty apron to exchange it for the clean shop apron. It helps to look somewhat put together when greeting customers. 

You wiped your damp hands along the sides of the apron as you finished tying the knot, rounding the corner into the shop. 

“How can I help you today?” You said, making your way to the front counter and pausing to make sure your bags were stocked in case they were purchasing something. 

“I was told by a friend that you were in need of some information on historic flora cultivation?” The mans voice was deep, with a delicious rasp about it that had you wondering exactly what kind of man had a voice so alluring. 

You looked up finally, trying to peek through the shelving as he walked along, only to catch glimpses of rich, warm browns. Curse you for stocking your flower bins so damn full. 

You caught sight of warm brown hair, the morning sun gleaming in the windows to catch along the amber hues scattered throughout. 

Your heart lurched as he turned the corner, watching as his eyes scanned the walls lining your shop— decorated with plants and trinkets, little baubles glimmering in the sunlight. 

The face of quiet admiration he gave as he looked at the flowers might’ve buckled your knees if not for the realization that this was the man you had seen Madam Ping speaking to— that day. 

This was that man. The man who may or may not have haunted your dreams for weeks after you saw him. You had wanted to ask Ping who he was, but you were so incredibly embarrassed about the whole situation. Now here he was, standing in your shop as you wondered if this was insanely good luck, or insanely bad luck. 

“Ah, yes. Gran— I mean, Madame Ping said you might be around today.” You introduced yourself, welcoming him to your store as you tried to keep your voice level. 

“It’s a pleasure,” the man said, giving a slight bow. “My name is Zhongli, I currently work at wangsheng funeral parlor as a consultant, but in my spare time I am somewhat of a historian, among other things.”

”It's lovely to meet you, Zhongli.” You wrung your hands together, unsure whether you should look him in the eye or not. They were so startling, so liquid gold it was difficult to hold their gaze. 

He simply smiled softly. “I am at your service. Would you perhaps be willing to show me what you’ve been working on?” 

As his gaze traveled across you, awaiting your response, but you suddenly became very aware of your current appearance. Surely any minuscule chance you had with this man flew out the window the moment he saw your disastrous hair and dirt scuffed knees. 

Not that you thought you really had a chance with him to begin with, but it doesn’t hurt to dream big, right? 

“Ah, yes. Of course.” You said, gesturing towards the back entrance to the greenhouse. “Right this way.” 

He followed closely as you made your way back. His eyes roamed the expanse of your greenhouse in what looked like appreciation, and he nodded encouragingly at you when you paused to watch his reaction. 

“This is quite impressive.” 

Feeling your face heat up, you turned to remove your shop apron and threw your dirty one back around your waist with unsteady hands. 

“It’s nothing really, I just figured that I should turn my hobby into a source of income, and well…” you hoped he didn’t notice your slight cringe as you donned your gloves once again. “I have a lot of free time on my hands.” 

“Such dedication is nothing to shrug off so casually.” He walked around, his eyes catching the latest batch of little failures and he stood in front of them, leaning in close as if to inspect their misery in finer detail. 

“These are the lilies?” He said, eyeing the drooping sprouts. 

“Yes.” You sighed, coming to stand beside him. You were anxious, sure. But your greenhouse was your safe space. You ruled this kingdom, he was just a guest here. A well dressed, knowledgeable and extremely attractive guest, but you had to convince yourself that everything was fine. If you remained calm and collected, everything would be fine. 

Fake it ‘til you make it— or however the saying goes. 

“They either shrivel up and dry out, or they take in too much moisture and rot. I had a guidebook, but it was about as helpful as a catalyst in a crystal mine.” 

You nearly gaped at him as he let a little chuckle fall from his lips, but he cut it off with a rough clearing of his throat, continuing to look at the plants. 

“Hm, well. Let us take a look at the book. I can revise any incorrect information, and we can work from there, yes?”

Nodding, you turn to dig the accursed book from its time out in the pile of shame. (A pile of useless guidebooks that carried misinformation, or were just overall genuinely bad. However terrible they may be, you’d spend decent money on them and refuse to get rid of any of your books. Hence the creation of the pile of shame.) 

Handing it to him, you move to start clearing the ruined plants from their nursery pots. You tried not to watch him as he flipped through the book, only allowing yourself little glances from the corner of your eye as you cleaned up. When you were finished, you lined up fresh nursery pots and flicked at a loose thread on the bag of seeds. 

“Surprisingly, there are only a few minor discrepancies in this guide. Overall, it seems to be alright, however there is one glaringly obvious detail that has been completely missed.” Zhongli spoke behind you. 

“Oh?” You turned, leaning against your countertop as you waited for him to elaborate. 

“In order to successfully grow Glaze Lilies, you must sing to them.” 

Your brow scrunched in confusion. “Excuse me?” 

The corners of his lips tilted up, and you flushed at the attitude leaking from your tone in such a casual manner. You’d only just met this man, and he was being extremely professional and kind in helping you with this matter. Where were your manners? 

Zhongli however, seemed unbothered by your casual display, and simply continued on. 

“I’ll make the necessary notations here, to correct the minor discrepancies, but the main focus should be — that after the first sign of sprouting — you need to sing to them at least once daily for them to continue growing properly.”

You crossed your arms and looked at him through a furrowed brow. 

“You’re not just making fun of me, are you? Because if this is some kind of practical joke, I don't find it very amusing.”  

Zhongli smiled warmly, closing the book and leaning quite casually against the opposite countertop, his liquid gold eyes glittering with amusement, but it didn’t seem like the kind that was at your expense. 

“I can assure you, I would never jest about something so important, nor would I play any kind of practical joke at your expense. I am simply sharing in my knowledge, hoping to help you in your desires, however I can.” 

You felt your heart fluttering, and you attempted to steady your breath. “Alright. I’m sorry, I just…” how could you tell him you weren’t used to people being so sincere? How could you explain that you weren’t used to such kindness without seeming pathetic? 

“Please do not worry yourself,” he said, stepping closer. He gestured to the small starting pots behind you. “Shall we get started?” 

—————-

“—And now he’s spent the last two weeks dropping by after the parlor closes every day and just— hangs out in the greenhouse while I work? I mean, his help with starting up the lilies was wonderful, but now it’s just about keeping the right moisture levels and singing to them every night, which I refuse to do while he’s there, because I’m not up for embarrassing myself in front of the literal most gorgeous man alive, thank you.” 

Your voice carried a little louder than usual, but by now the Milileth knew your routine, and hardly even batted an eye if they heard you speaking to yourself. 

The sun hadn’t started to rise yet, you’d gotten to the terrace early, early enough that the lanterns were still lit, illuminating the darkened path up those torturous stairs. 

“And he’s so polite? I don’t know how to act around him, he’s always giving such genuine sounding compliments, asking me questions while I work, helping me with little things. Surely a man like that has better things to do with his time?” You huffed, that creeping sense of self loathing wrapping around your shoulders like an old blanket, scratchy and rough, but oh so familiar. 

“He’s so beautiful, and intellectual. He’s literally a walking historical archive and I could honestly listen to him talk for hours— But in comparison, I’m just… I’m just a little girl who plays around with dirt and flowers. I really don’t understand why he keeps hanging around.” 

You scrunched your nose as the sun started to spill those beautiful colors across the sky. 

“Do you think Madame Ping asked him to keep coming around? I know she thinks I'm lonely, but I don't need her to bribe a grown man into being my friend.” 

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “No, I can't see her taking it that far. I just… I really don’t see why he would want to be around me.” 

That warm feeling started to envelop you, and you took a deep breath to soak it in. “I know… I have a lot of self worth issues. It’s not like I've asked him why he’s hanging around, I just kind of… let him.  Maybe I can work up the courage to ask him why he’s so interested. He probably only wants to see if I can actually manage to grow those flowers.” 

You rubbed the lingering sleep from your eyes and lingered a bit longer than usual, wondering what Rex Lapis would think about Mr. Zhongli. 

——————————

Around the 3 month mark, when things started looking promising, you developed another new habit. 

Instead of spending a dedicated section of time at night standing awkwardly and singing to your newly budded plants, you decided it would save time and effort to just sing away while you do your evening chores in the greenhouse. 

You wouldn’t go out on a limb and say that your other plants were magically affected by your singing, but like your lilies, everything in the greenhouse seemed just a bit more vibrant as you did so. 

You checked the clock, chewing your lip as you scolded yourself for missing Zhongli’s presence. 

About a week ago, he’d stopped by to say that he was taking a leave of absence to go on a trip with a friend of his. He’d introduced the traveler and their strange floating  companion to you before they headed off. 

“I’ll only be gone for a week, maybe more, but I truly look forward to seeing the progress when I return.” 

You’d sort of settled into the strange routine of greeting him in the evenings, making the odd pot of tea while he spoke about anything under the sun, entertaining you while you worked. It felt strange to not have him here, but you knew you couldn’t get too attached. When the lilies bloomed, he would most certainly lose interest, and you’d have to go back to your regular routine of lonely nights. 

Your heart felt a bit somber as you hauled a few buckets of mulch along, not really focusing on your surroundings, just zoning out while you sang random tunes to help your lilies grow. 

You remember a song you’d heard your grandmother sing a long time ago, a distant memory, but the melody was still so vibrant in your mind. 

“Eyes shining like the sunrise,

 Ever deeper than the night sky,

Nature sweet, like faun and flora,

More valuable than jade or mora, 

Take me me there, safe from harm,

Safe at home, in your arms.

nature's bounty he—“

Your voice caught in your throat as you turned to grab the next bucket only to find Zhongli standing silently in the doorway, eyes nearly glowing in the lantern light. 

You jumped, and you were sure if you had something in your hands, it would’ve flown out of them, most likely spilling all over you— embarrassing you even further. 

“Zhongli?!” You yelped, throwing a hand over your pounding heart. “I didn’t hear you come in! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

He chuckled, a warm sound you’d grown so fond of hearing. “I did not intend to startle you. Though I am surprised you did not hear me, considering how you’re always on about how loud that bell is.” 

“Yes, well,” your face grew so extremely warm, you pulled off your gloves and shoved them in your apron pocket, kicking a foot on the flooring of your greenhouse. ”I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here tonight, so I suppose I let myself get too carried away.” 

“I wouldn’t say you were too carried away.” His eyes were sparkling, his smile deeper than you think you’d ever seen it before. 

“Wha— are you teasing me? I thought you said you wouldn’t—“ he cut off your rambling with a simple murmuring of your name, nodding to the countertop behind you. 

Confused, you turned, and in the moonlight streaming in through exposed glass sat six perfect glaze lilies, fully bloomed. 

You walked towards them in awe, feeling Zhongli’s presence not far behind. 

“I…” you stared at them, eyes wide and mouth nearly hanging open. “I can’t believe…” 

You were hopeful, of course you were. But a part of you genuinely expected to come in one day and find them dead, destroyed like the others. You had wanted this so badly, but after months of failure, you had lost your confidence. But there, sat in front of you in their little pots, sat six perfect fully grown glaze lilies. 

“I did it.” You mumbled, turning around to face Zhongli. Your heart felt like it was bursting in your chest. You jumped, barely able to contain your joy as you shrieked. 

“I did it!” You excitedly danced around, pumping your fists in the air and whooping, in total bliss at your accomplishment. 

“You did it.” Zhongli simply said, smiling down at you.  

“We did it!” You yelled, your joy uncontainable. Without thinking, you threw yourself at him, giggling as he caught you effortlessly, spinning you around as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

He smelled like amber, like the forest and the mountain air, crisp and pure and addicting. You took another deep breath before you realized what exactly you were doing. 

You quickly pushed yourself away, backing up with a squeaking “sorry!” Only in your embarrassment, you completely lost your bearings, immediately tripping backwards on a stack of potting soil sacks and tumbling down. 

You tried to catch yourself on the side counter, but only succeeded in grabbing hold of a stack of books you’d been meaning to relocate, the pile of shame.

Perhaps it was your karma for naming it such, perhaps it was irony, but the pile of shame merely tumbled down along with you, spilling onto your head with a terrible series of audible smacking sounds to accompany your little cries of pain. 

“Oh!” In Zhongli’s defense, he really had tried to catch you, but you supposed when you pushed away, you must have shoved him a bit farther back as well, and he was merely seconds too late from grabbing your arm to steady you. 

You sat in your embarrassment, letting a loose book stay where it landed, covering your face. 

“Are you alright?” Zhongli said, his voice filled with genuine concern. 

“Can you pretend like the last five minutes never happened?” You said, cringing beneath the pages of an extremely outdated copy of Flowers in Food: recipes for your floral tastes. 

“Unfortunately, my dear,” Zhongli began removing the book from your face, peeking down at your reddened cheeks beneath the pages. “I have the pleasure of having an impeccable memory.” 

“I had a feeling you’d say something like that.” You grumbled. 

You began peeling books off yourself, face warm as you wondered how you were going to get out of this one. 

“You did not need to apologize, though.” Zhongli said, crouching down to help you. “I am more than comfortable sharing in your excitement at such an accomplishment.” 

Your heart fluttered, and your face heated for entirely different reasons. Maybe it was okay that you’d hugged him? As much as you want to think he’s always teasing you, he has never once lied about how he’s felt about anything. 

“Oh.” You said, peeling away the last couple books. “Well then, I’m sorry for pushing away so abruptly, and uh… that you had to see all that.” 

He smiled, shaking his head as if he was going to tell you something more, when his eyes seemed to catch something along your torso. 

You looked down, and under the last book you’d pulled off your stomach sat a little glowing orb, about the size of your palm. 

Its warm amber light glowed against the fabric of your shirt, and you looked just as shocked at Zhongli for a moment. 

But his face steadied, and he smiled down at you. “It seems that your perseverance has been recognized in the highest regard.” 

You gapped down at the geo vision sitting on your stomach. 

“I… what?” 

—————————

AN: what did you think? Please let me know in the comments/tags/askbox! Also feel free to send in ideas for some dynamics you’d enjoy seeing between these two, as I have a vague idea of where the story will go, but its not entirely concrete yet!

- from Pidge, with love <3