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Sometimes, when the work at Northland Bank turned particularly paperwork-oriented and when the debtors annoyingly continued to pay the agreed upon rates diligently, Childe took commissions from the Adventurers’ Guild.
Of course, the best course of action would be to persuade Zhongli to a spar or two. However, despite him getting much more proficient at coaxing them from the Adeptus, he still didn’t have a hundred percent success rate; something about injuries and overextending himself and honestly, at this point in the lecture Childe usually just tuned out and kept staring at Zhongli’s lips.
So commissions it were - at least he managed to convince Katheryne to give him the more challenging ones.
And there was a strange appeal to fighting alongside his lover, instead of against him. A knowing tingle in his skin, that were he to pivot left, Zhongli would strike right, weaving around each other like fluttering silks in gold and blue.
Childe was used to jumping alone into the fray and being the only one left standing. And he loved that, lived for the thrill of dancing along the edge of a sharp blade, the thrum in his blood that was unlike anything else; but sometimes… sometimes the safety net of a shield of jade, wrapping around him and pushing glowing power outwards, was nice.
Additionally, he was pretty sure that the sentiments were shared. His companion always claimed that he followed him simply out of the desire to continuously familiarise himself with the Liyuean countryside, but Childe called bullshit - the ex-Archon probably knew the land better than the mountains themselves.
An unfortunate foreign merchant once asked them for directions. Zhongli immediately launched into half-hour long tirade describing the trail with utmost detail, basically to every single pebble littering the road. By the end of it, even Childe, who knew the way himself, had gotten hopelessly lost.
The merchant, bless his soul, shakily thanked them anyways - the ginger took pity on him then and quickly sketched him a very plain map, with which the poor man was finally able to get going. Zhongli sulked terribly; at least until Childe pointed out that lovely jade paperweight at the stalls lining the street.
He was still rather proud of noticing that one. Maybe his lover was rubbing off on him and he was finally starting to be able to spot a counterfeit by a glance, no longer fooled by the cheap tricks applied onto dealings with foreign tourists with too little sense and too deep pockets. Maybe. Sometimes. Occasionally.
They were just getting back from one such commission, Childe walking ahead with his hands happily folded behind his neck and a jump to his step. He really needed to beat up those geovishaps, otherwise the Bank would be in dire risk of becoming his personal training field and even though the recruits staging an uprising would be an amusing spectacle, the subsequent report promised to be much less pleasant.
And of course, in order to get back to the harbour, they had to walk around the monument north of the city. The Geo Archon statue, in all of its haunting disinterest and half-naked glory for all the world to see. The ginger would not pay it much mind usually, except for the cold tingle of healing magic were he particularly badly beaten up, but today he found himself stopping in his tracks, looking up and staring with his head tilted to the side like an inquisitive feline.
For a long time.
“I just don’t understand.”
Zhongli raised an eyebrow at him. The stone statue of Rex Lapis did not raise an eyebrow at him, if only because it didn’t have one; although it still somehow managed to get the expression across well enough.
Childe glared at them both.
“I mean, that’s you. That… that is you,” he gesticulated wildly with one hand. “How does nobody see it?”
The ex-Geo Archon made an inquisitive hum. “Well, you have not seen it either, even after spending a significant amount of time in my presence,” and then elegantly dodged a hydro arrow aimed for his head.
Childe waived a finger at him, droplets of water still dancing around his hands. “Now now now, listen, that is not a fair comparison at all.”
“Is it not?” Zhongli sounded far too amused for someone in acute danger of becoming a practise target.
“No.”
The Adeptus only hummed again and started walking once more, as undisturbed and tranquil as ever.
But Childe was not going to let this go so easily; oh no, now he was invested. Thus, when Zhongli finally noticed he was missing his wallet-shaped shadow and turned around, the ginger was already well on his way scrambling upwards onto the stone-portrayal of the almighty late god of Liyue.
Said late god of Liyue sighed.
Operating under the thought that, were he to observe the statue more closely he might be able to pinpoint some kind of a minuscule detail that would explain just how did an entire nation develop selective blindness, Childe heaved himself over the floating ring - and what was up with that thing, merrily hanging in the air as if the laws of gravity remained but gentle suggestions - and flopped upon the pedestal. Dusting himself off, he peered upwards at the hooded face and frowned.
“Who even made these things,” the Harbinger muttered, leaning over and poking the statue in the chest. No gnosis here either.
From below sounded another sigh. “Technically speaking, the act of creation of these statues cannot truly be attributed to - Childe, please, do climb down. As much as I enjoy seeing you in my lap, I remain doubtful that the citizens of Liyue would be of a similar mind.” Damn that unnatural hearing.
Childe, currently very much seated in the statue’s lap, grinned at his lover. “Aww, I’ll be sure to remind you of that the next time you say I am bothering you at work,” he sing-sang, before tuning out Zhongli’s disapproving mumbling and focusing once again on the statue.
To be honest, the more he stared at it, the more confused he became. Even with the eyes concealed under the hood’s shadow, that was Zhongli’s nose and Zhongli’s jaw and Zhongli’s stupidly soft lips, turned in the mocking hint of smirk. He swept his gaze lower, down over the abs that he had indeed become very familiar with as of late, to the square symbol his lover so liked to wear emblazoned on his broad back, and billowing cloth draped over the angular throne.
The ginger shifted his eyes to the man in question, currently observing a Sweet Flower with all the attentiveness of a scientist conducting a particularly volatile experiment. Back to the statue. Nope, still rocky and unnervingly similar to his companion.
It was Zhongli - everything about the thing screamed Zhongli. How in Celestia’s name had nobody seen it yet?!
Well, alright, the posture was not anything like the refined gentleman he has come to know during his assignment in Liyue, but Childe managed to drag out those ferocious hints of the sleeping dragon inside several times and yes, he could actually imagine the Adeptus lounging like that.
(The ginger also steadfastly ignored the tingling thrill in his stomach which that particular picture invoked.)
“Listen,” he started again, looking over at the god whose sacred statue he was desecrating with mere presence alone. The flower was replaced by a little Golden Finch, hopping without fear over polished boots and pecking at dark shoelaces. ”I have absolutely no idea how this bazillion year old thing looks like you, but it does. It does and still nobody suspects a thing and I don’t understand.”
Or, everybody did in fact possess basic observation skills and the whole population just decided to humour their Archon while he merrily ambled amongst his people and bled Childe’s funds dry. That... was not actually a completely unreasonable conclusion.
Zhongli sighed yet again and Childe distantly wondered whether he should have kept count. “The likeness of the statues to my current form is not because of astute craftsmanship of the people. Rather, it is because it has not been made by mortal hands at all.”
“Huh.” The ginger turned his attention to the sculpted chest once again. “So it was you who made it? What were you thinking of, creating it so similar to your disguise?”
And so sparingly clothed too; to think that the all mighty Rex Lapis might be an exhibitionist.
The Adeptus made a complicated grimace then - or, more accurately, he raised one eyebrow slightly, lowered the other and pressed his lips together. Childe pondered idly about when exactly he became aware of such little gestures. “Not... exactly.”
“You are being wonderfully eloquent today.”
The stare he got in return would make lesser man quake in fear. Childe grinned and leaned against the bare abdomen of Rex Lapis - and yup, those abs were very much legit.
Zhongli shook his head, but also joined his hands behind his back in that trademark storytelling posture of his and Childe knew he had won.
“Seeing that my eloquence bothers you so, I will be frank. The statues have been created by the Ley lines.”
The younger man slowly raised his eyebrows. “Were they.”
“Indeed.” A quiet moment, with the wind blowing through blades of grass and sun setting over the horizon. “When The Seven first sat upon their seats, they swore to guide humanity, protect and lead their entrusted nations towards prosperity and peace. These statues are an extension of that wish and duty.”
Childe pillowed his head over one stony knee and hummed. Zhongli sported a distant look in his eyes, gazing into the distance but seeing something wholly different than the scenery.
“It is an oversimplification of the process, but generally speaking, I channelled my signature energy and will into the Ley lines and they created this monument. It is why the statues are capable of healing and rejuvenating travellers, even after I have laid down the mantle of the Archon of Geo, since it is not me who is sustaining them.”
“Still doesn’t explain why they look so much like you. Or why nobody notices.”
His perfectly reasonable inquiries were met with a quiet mutter of: “Impatient as always.” Thankfully, Zhongli continued, so Childe needn’t have encouraged him with a well-aimed pebble he found in his pocket.
Well actually, he flicked it at the Adeptus anyways, just to keep him on his toes.
“The form and, uh, size depicted is indeed the one I had donned during the Archon War and thus still maintained when creating these statues.” At this point, Zhongli paused and picked up the aforementioned pebble, turning it around in his hands. “Ah, but this as a most interesting find. The coloration and grain suggest this to be a fragment of sedimentation usually found around Cor Lapis deposits; however, the shape of the facet implies -”
“Xiansheng.” Look, usually Childe would have nothing against his lover’s rants, but right now there were more important things than untimely thrown pebbles.
His companion appeared almost sheepish in that endearingly adorable way of his and rubbed his neck. “Yes yes, right. Now where was I… of course. Well, as I was saying, the reason the depiction of Rex Lapis is so similar to that of my mortal disguise is because this form is the one that comes the most naturally to me and remains the easiest to maintain for extended periods of time.” Zhongli squinted at the rock, glinting warmly in the light of the sunset. “Additionally, I greatly suspect that even if I chose another human form, because of my connection to the elements of the world and thus the Ley Lines, the statue would change accordingly on its own.”
Childe blinked. “So not only are you a shapeshifting god in itself, you also have a shapeshifting statue.”
“More or less, even though the change would most probably be gradual and predominantly unnoticeable until finished.”
The ginger nodded a few times to himself, processing, before suddenly gasping in realisation and throwing an accusatory arm out. “Wait wait wait wait, backtrack a bit okay? Do you mean to tell me, that this,” he patted a sleek pectoral appreciatively, “is what you can look like?”
The Adeptus tilted his head to the side, not unlike a curious puppy. “I mean, the horns and tail are missing, but ah, more or less?”
Childe stared. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss Zhongli or hit him over the head. Possibly both; he could multitask, no matter what Signora said about his one-track battle mind.
“Xiansheng,” the Harbinger hissed with the intensity of an incoming tsunami. “You have been holding out on me.”
Of course he had seen some draconic aspects of his lover and cherished them all greatly, but this! This was something completely different! Rex Lapis loomed over him much more than Zhongli’s usual several centimetres and horns, the commanding presence almost enough to bring him to his knees in itself.
It was a grave injustice that he hadn’t sparred against the god like this yet; one he was set on correcting immediately.
But, there was still one thing that needed to be addressed before he bodily hauled the Adeptus to the nearest semi-decent sparring ground. Focus, focus.
Childe, sprawled haphazardly over the stone lap, halfway hanging down and with a slightly manic glint to his eyes pinned Zhongli with an intense stare. “And once again. Why. Does nobody. Notice.”
“Well,” the dark-haired man shifted in place and the Harbinger zeroed on the uncharacteristic move like a swooping eagle. “My most acute assumption is that they cannot.”
Childe blinked at him in disbelief. He’d been very much ready to accept almost any flimsy excuse Zhongli might come up with, to tick off this last item on his mental list of to-do things before they could move onto more important things of the battle kind; trust the god to hit bullseye right into the tiny target of bullshit-Childe-will-not-take-at-face-value. Typical.
“What?”
“It is not something I can control.” Zhongli had his arms raised placatingly and if even his absolutely abysmal social skills were telling him that he needs to proceed carefully, the situation was really serious. “More along the lines of an automatic defence mechanism that comes with me assuming the illusion of mortal form.”
The droplets of water circling the Harbinger’s hands scattered into the wind, before starting their dance again, except significantly faster. “And what is ’it’?”
His lover was blushing, which would be adorable, if all of Childe’s suspicious instincts hadn’t been perking up like freshly startled group of slimes.
“A mental suggestion, so to speak.”
The apprehension turned to murder-intent.
“Or an illusion. That is also an acceptable description.” The Adeptus was grinning sheepishly, gold-tipped hair fluttering in the breeze. “I truly do not desire to affect the perception of others in such way, but as I have already stated, I really cannot control it. And I promise it is not as invasive as it may sound.”
“Explain it then, because so far I’ve only encountered the mind games of the Abyss and it is not an experience I’m exactly raring to go and repeat.”
Zhongli frowned and his lips turned in that particular way when he was deeply offended. “It is nothing like that. You can instead imagine it as an… aura of sort.” He swept his gold eyes to the statue that started it all, little speckles of dust making it twinkle in the setting sun. “If a person were to somehow come to entertain the idea of me being anything more than an ordinary funeral consultant, they would be more likely to simply discard the thought, thinking it too impossible. A suggestion, gentle nudge to abandon such perceptions; never any direct interferences I swear.”
Childe tapped his lips, thinking, but the wisps of hydro disappeared and his lover’s shoulders then lowered just the tiniest bit. “Oh. Okay that… that actually explains a lot. So you basically go around and whenever anybody starts to suspect you, they just… stop.”
A relieved nod. “Yes. Although I believe I have to say, that it only works to a certain degree. Disbelief can carry you only so far when faced with too much evidence.” Zhongli snorted, likely remembering a very specific situation from his overly long life to pair with the knowledge. “It is something that comes automatically with the repression of my divine nature. Such power is impossible to conceal fully, so any particularly powerful being trying to fit into mortal role spreads this influence around them, willingly or not. It comes with the package, so to say.”
Zhongli was still shifting on his feet, unsure, and Childe really couldn’t stand to see his lover so anxious. “Alright alright,” he mused, flopping down like a wet rag, fully intent on sprawling indecently over the surprisingly comfortable lap of Rex Lapis. “That’s fine I guess.”
Truth be told, it was even somewhat reassuring to know, that no matter how blockheaded the Adeptus could get, he would have at least some way of concealing his missteps in achieving the perfect illusion of mortal existence. A safety net of sorts.
Except…
“Wait. Is that why I never clued onto your true identity, even after spending so many months in your presence? Because I’d been just getting blasted with the full-force of your concealment aura?!”
The ex-Archon of Liyue closed his eyes. “Yes.”
Childe stared at him. He knew from experience, that if he tried to jump Zhongli now, the man would only sway to the side at most, immovable like the ancient mountain ranges, some of which he personally raised to the skies. However, he once saw Hu Tao perform the very same manoeuvre and the Adeptus stumbled - stumbled! - stuttering forward several steps on unsteady feet, before straightening again with a long-suffering grimace upon his face and the esteemed Director hanging around his neck like a particularly rowdy scarf.
The little gremlin refused to share her secrets with Childe tho. Well, no matter; he was sure that he will manage to buy her over one day.
But right now an aerial assault remained unreachable and wasn’t that a mighty shame.
“Xiansheng,” the ginger hissed lowly. “You owe me so many spars.”
Zhongli sighed.