Chapter Text
Noon on a windy summer day finds Xiao perched on the highest rooftop of Wangshu Inn in accordance with his habit of these last centuries, gazing across the marsh with an idle eye out for trouble. Focused on the horizon as he is, it’s something of a surprise when he feels his privacy wards abruptly breached by something luminous and volatile, a fast-moving point of positive energy scaling the height of the inn. Xiao senses no hostility from it, however, so rather than reinforcing his wards, he simply allows them to unravel and waits, alert but unworried.
The culprit soon reveals itself in the form of a pair of gloved hands grasping the edge of the roof on the northwest side, followed closely by a tousled head of pale hair—and Chongyun, scion of the exorcist clans, pulls himself up onto the roofing tiles. Upon catching sight of Xiao, the young exorcist lights up in what appears to be genuine, uncomplicated delight, sullied by neither reverent fear nor avaricious hope. It’s such an unusual reaction that Xiao is unsure how to respond.
“Adeptus Xiao!” says Chongyun. “Hello!”
“Exorcist,” says Xiao.
He’s met this one before—Xiao’s duties necessitate something of a working relationship with those mortals who have made it their trade to pursue the same path, and Chongyun’s extraordinary circumstances make him more noteworthy than most. His condition, however, was never so acute in their previous encounters—to Xiao’s senses, Chongyun is almost like a tiny second sun ambling up the sloped roof towards him.
“Adeptus Xiao,” Chongyun says again, coming to a stop slightly closer than is strictly proper. “I’ve been thinking of you lately!”
“Have you,” says Xiao. They’re nearly of a height, but the slope of the roof has Chongyun tilting his head up to make eye contact. His pupils are blown wide and dark, in defiance of the bright sunlight.
“Mm! I’ve been thinking of you,” says Chongyun, “because I know your secret.”
Xiao can’t begin to guess what Chongyun is referring to, especially with that cheerful demeanor. The long life of an adeptus accumulates secrets aplenty, but—at least in Xiao’s case—none that merit smiling so sweetly.
“Do you,” says Xiao.
“Your secret,” says Chongyun, and he leans in even closer, continuing in a whisper: “is that you’re actually really nice.”
Xiao doesn’t know what he expected, but it certainly isn’t that. “I can’t imagine why you think so.”
“Hmm, well.” Chongyun thinks about it for a moment, cocking his head. “There was that woodsman in the Karst—he said he’d lost his axe, but a boy adeptus gave him a sword to replace it.”
“The axe was broken,” says Xiao.
“And then there was the little girl who’d lost her doll! She said you found it and returned it to her. Oh, except—she was upset because she thought you didn’t like her.”
“Ah...” Xiao doesn’t know how to answer that. A lock of Chongyun’s hair has fallen out of place, half-obscuring one of his eyes.
“She wanted to know how to make you smile,” Chongyun continues, leaning in close again. “I’m a little curious too. What would make Adeptus Xiao smile?”
It’s such an absurd question that Xiao opens his mouth to reply before he’s quite formulated the words to do so—but Chongyun seems to take this as some kind of cue, because that’s when he closes the final, scant distance to bring their mouths together in a kiss.
It’s been decades—perhaps even centuries—since anyone has dared.
Chongyun is clearly inexperienced, his kiss sweet and chaste, just a dry press of lips. Yet even the gesture itself is an offering in the oldest tradition, all but forgotten in the present era; and Xiao can taste the yang energy brimming in Chongyun’s body—has sensed it, radiant and distracting, from the moment his wards were disturbed. He accepts the offering half on instinct, licking into the young man’s mouth—the better to drink of that heady light—and Chongyun makes a surprised sound that stutters into a soft moan halfway through.
By the time Xiao releases him, Chongyun’s presence has shaded from “blinding” back down to his usual “bright.” His eyes are half-lidded and unfocused, and his breaths come shallow and fast. Xiao frowns, concerned that he perhaps took too much, but then Chongyun’s lashes flutter and his expression clears.
For only a moment, though, before recognition flashes through his eyes and he stumbles back in alarm.
“I’m sorry—my apologies, Master Adeptus!” says Chongyun, bowing deeply. He continues, apparently addressing Xiao’s boots, “I’m not sure what I—I, I’m certain I didn’t follow the proper protocols, at the very least—whatever I’ve done to offend—”
“Stop,” Xiao interrupts. Chongyun freezes. Xiao touches his arm, guiding him upright. “You haven’t offended me.”
Chongyun meets his eyes, too astonished to look away. The open, vulnerable look on his face stirs at something uneasy and half-forgotten in Xiao. He reaches out again—
“Oh wow, there really is an adeptus at the top of the inn!”
—and the moment breaks, and Xiao lets his hand fall to his side as he turns his attention to this new interruption. The young woman who spoke finishes clambering onto the roof and turns to help another youth—a boy—climb up after her.
“Indeed there is,” says the boy as he brushes himself off. He sweeps gracefully into a formal bow. “Greetings to my lord Adeptus. And to Chongyun. You... seem to have calmed down?”
“Ah... so it seems.” Chongyun glances uncertainly at Xiao. “Begging your pardon, Master Adeptus—this is the second young master of Feiyun Commerce Guild and disciple of the Guhua tradition, Xingqiu; and this is the head chef and heir of Wanmin Restaurant, Xiangling. Um. Xiangling, Xingqiu, this is the—”
“Xiao,” Xiao interrupts, lacking the patience to hear a litany of his titles recited for the sake of nicety.
“... this is Adeptus Xiao.”
“Since we’re here,” says Xingqiu, “we ought to take the opportunity to ask the adeptus about Chongyun’s quest.”
Xingqiu has not followed the rites for asking favors of an adeptus. “Presumptuous,” observes Xiao.
“Ah,” says Xingqiu, appearing chastened. He bows again, lower than before. “My sincerest apologies, my lord Adeptus.”
“Chongyun,” says Xiao, paying the other two no more mind. “Your offering was unconventional, but it satisfies the requirements of ritual nonetheless, and I have accepted it. Speak your piece.”
Chongyun seems completely taken aback. “I made a—? Um.” He hesitates. “I, ah. I guess... yeah. Are there any demons or evil spirits that can resist my pure yang spirit?”
This, Xiao can answer easily enough. “There are,” he says, “but in the present era, they are few. Common ghosts, those who fear daylight, are born from the resentment of mortals. Those that can resist it are divine in origin; most are incipient calamities that do not bear ignoring. I deal with them personally when they become active. I advise you to refrain from seeking them out yourself—the power of an exorcist is trivial before daylight evils.”
Chongyun’s face falls at this, and Xiao realizes that his words must have sounded rather insulting.
“The exorcist’s repertoire simply lacks the ability to deal with demons of such magnitude,” he clarifies, but that’s possibly even worse, judging by Chongyun’s expression.
Xiao knows when a tactical retreat is necessary. “Regardless,” he says, “even exorcists are unlikely to encounter them at all.”
“I see,” says Chongyun. He visibly gathers himself for a moment before continuing: “Many thanks for your guidance, Adeptus Xiao.” The obeisance he performs is perfectly identical to those of his ancestors, thus bringing a formal end to this particular contract.
“I don’t remember what happened,” Chongyun says once he straightens.
“The wind blew your parasol away,” says Xiangling. “You chased after it for a bit but then you changed your mind and said you wanted to say hello to the Adeptus at the top of the inn. Then you scaled the whole building. You were super fast. I’d never seen anyone climb so fast!”
“We followed you on the elevator,” Xingqiu adds. “But as for what happened before we got here, you’d have to ask—oh. He’s gone?”
“He doesn’t like crowds,” says Chongyun, absently. He’s gazing blindly at the place where Xiao still lingers, hidden from mortal sight.
Chongyun spends most of the elevator ride down to their rooms in a daze, replaying that strange encounter—what he can remember of it, anyway—in his head, as something buzzes like an active electro-crystal under his skin.
“Are you ok, Chongyun?” says Xiangling.
“Mmh,” says Chongyun. His mouth feels odd, tingly and oversensitive, as if he’d bitten into raw mint at some point during his episode. He doesn’t taste any mint, though. Maybe a hint of qingxin...
“Pray do not be discouraged by the Adeptus’s words,” says Xingqiu. “I am certain you will find a way to prove your mettle as an exorcist even so.”
“Yeah,” says Chongyun, failing to notice the look that passes between his two companions. The adeptus had been so close when Chongyun came back to himself—
“So,” says Xingqiu. “Adeptus Xiao? Strange, the name is entirely unfamiliar to me.”
Chongyun shakes himself out of his reverie. “Oh, ah... it’s how he prefers to be addressed,” he says. “As a luminary, he’s known as Alatus, the Conqueror of Demons.”
“Alatus,” echoes Xiangling. “I don’t think I’ve heard that name either.”
“Ah, I’ve read about him. So that was the Golden-Winged King, last of the yakshas?”
“Did you meet him through your family, Chongyun? Do you know him well?”
“Truly, I can’t believe Chongyun was personally acquainted with an adeptus all this time and never told me. Aren’t we friends?”
“He’s kind of scary, isn’t he? Miss Ganyu comes by the restaurant sometimes, and she’s nothing like that.”
“Well, Adeptus Ganyu isn’t a martial deity. You know, adepti senses are said to be very acute—he can probably hear us talking about him.”
“That’s not any less scary! Is it really true?”
Chongyun flounders under their combined onslaught. “I wouldn’t exactly say that I know him!” he manages. Xiangling giggles, and Xingqiu puts on an exaggerated pout.
“I did meet him because of my family, though,” Chongyun continues. “Sometimes we exorcists make offerings to seek his guidance on matters related to repelling evil, or to share intelligence. Rex Lapis charged him with the duty of suppressing the demons of Liyue, long ago—he’s in the same line of work as us, in a way. It’s just...”
Chongyun struggles to find the words for how strange all of this has been—how like and yet unlike his past experience of the Conqueror of Demons.
The first time he met Xiao was near the end of his apprenticeship as an exorcist. His senior had come to Wangshu Inn with Chongyun, an offering of incense and almond tofu, and information on some localized leyline disturbances that may have been nothing, or may have been the first signs of something sinister on the move.
I see, Xiao had said, before pinning Chongyun with that piercing gaze. Who is this?
This is apprentice Chongyun, Chongyun’s senior had said. We expect much of his talents in the future.
You are twice marked by heaven, Xiao had said, once Chongyun had somehow managed the requisite greeting through his awe. Take care that you do not squander yourself.
Years later, and meeting the adeptus at the inn has been not an iota less intense, every time.
“It’s just?” prompts Xiangling, when Chongyun fails to continue.
“It’s just—I’ve finished my apprenticeship, so I know all the relevant rituals, but I’ve never actually sought him out myself before.”
“He said you made an unconventional offering,” says Xiangling. “I wonder what sort of offering it was?”
“I don’t know,” says Chongyun helplessly. “I was right up in his face when I woke up. That’s not how it’s supposed to work, you're meant to put it down and back away and the adeptus chooses whether or not to enter a contract of invocation by accepting or rejecting it.”
“So he must have woken you up directly somehow,” says Xiangling. “I was wondering about that—it usually takes much longer, doesn't it?”
“And he usually has to take a little nap before he snaps out of it,” Xingqiu adds, and laughs when Chongyun elbows him for it. “It’s true! The capabilities of the adepti are indeed worthy of admiration.”
The next morning, Chongyun’s parasol is folded innocuously by his bedside.
I should have asked how he woke me, Chongyun thinks much later, as he trails sedately after Xingqiu, whose high spirits have him scouting ahead, and Xiangling, who frequently veers off course to collect berries and insects and who knows what else.
The thought continues to rattle around the back of his head as they continue on their journey, surfacing at odd moments. He thinks it as they collect herbs in Jueyun Karst; he thinks it as they track a ruin hunter in Cuijue Slope. He thinks it as they run into the Traveller in the Guili Plains and immediately get roped into hitting a strange, misty domain together; as they link up with Xinyan at the harbor and leave behind Xingqiu, who can put off his responsibilities to his family no longer; as they see off Xiangling on the coast where she disembarks with the Crux Fleet in search of new horizons (and new ingredients).
After weeks of waffling on the matter, Chongyun makes up his mind: he needs to ask. He needs to go back, needs to meet the adeptus again. Xiao’s injunction had been disappointing, true, but if there’s a better way to manage his pure yang spirit, if it’s something that can be taught... he needs to know. So he bids farewell to Xinyan in Mingyun Village (“You take care of yourself, y’hear?”) and once more sets off towards Dihua Marsh, this time alone.
The journey passes fairly uneventfully, giving Chongyun plenty of time to think himself in circles. He collects perhaps an excessive quantity of qingxin—the nervous energy has him scampering up cliffs to chase the flash of pale petals all over the Qiongji region. After what feels simultaneously like too much time and yet hardly enough time at all, Chongyun finds himself at Wangshu Inn, on the adeptus’ balcony.
Qingxin, for purity of purpose; and a dish of almond tofu, as is customary for petitioning the Conqueror of Demons. Chongyun arranges his offering and steps back to kneel in supplication. Sometimes the adeptus answers immediately; sometimes he doesn’t respond at all.
This time, Chongyun doesn’t have to wait long.
“You again,” says Xiao.