Seven Months in Heaven [Zhongchi/Tartali]

Chapter 9 - What Happens on Board...

Childe considered himself a smart man. However, his latest move in the Zhongli Saga was anything but that.

He'd been suave. He'd been mysterious. "I'll accept. In whichever way you'd like me to take it," he'd said. It was an answer both subtle and noncommittal, perfect for a deadly Harbinger of Her Majesty's underworld.

Unfortunately he'd forgotten one key detail.

He had no idea how Zhongli wanted him to take it.

Instead of clarifying, Zhongli had taken him by the arm, walked them to lunch as usual, and waxed poetic about the night sky of all things (it had been daytime). Something about there being 520 newly appeared stars over some long abandoned rock in the Guili Plains that he wished Childe could see, carefully emphasising each digit as though it were supposed to mean something.

Childe guessed the old man wanted to take him stargazing. He could've just asked.

Now, he walked back to his office with a paper-wrapped package containing the formal outfit he was to wear to the trade event, freshly purchased during his lunch hour. Zhongli had gone with him, fussing over the different fits Childe tried on and assisting him with changing into the unfamiliar attire.

Childe had struggled; there was too much fabric and too little of himself, and Zhongli took a rather hands on approach as he assisted, brushing against Childe's skin without reservation. When he at last finished, hands placed firmly on Childe's hips, golden eyes boring into him, it took all of Childe's self-restraint to remain coherent and not melt into a puddle on the spot.

He entered the bank and climbed the stairs to his office, giving Ekaterina a brief wave as he passed. She shook her head at him in return.

What was that supposed to mean?

However, as he paused to question it, a customer approached the front desk and his chance was lost. He retreated, carrying his package up the stairs, kicking open his office door and setting his new purchase on the floor beside his chair. Finding a letter sat in the middle of his desk, set with Her Majesty's seal, he flipped open a window (he needed the air after that lunch hour) and returned to his desk to open it.

My loyal Tartaglia,

I trust you are keeping well.

As suspected, the urgency of your mission has increased. After communicating with Pulcinella earlier this week, he informed me that the assets were alive at the time the chasm was sealed. As such, there is a good chance of retrieving them still alive alongside their equipment should we move quickly.

He estimates food supplies below ground might last until the month's end, although I suspect his estimations are generous. Please ensure the issue is resolved by the end of this month. Following your previous updates, I have faith you shall not fail me.

The Tsaritsa

P.S. It is good to hear that Morax is treating you well, although I do hope he is not spoiling you. However, I shall consider the suggestion from your previous communication.

Childe's legs quivered beneath him and he leaned against the wall, sliding to the ground. Everything was hot, hot, hot, and the world swayed around him.

The assets were alive.

The assets were people.

All these months he'd been relaxing and playing house with Zhongli, while their people were stuck starving below ground.

Supplies might last until the end of the month? He doubted it – trapped people all too easily became desperate people, and he had seen many a desperate man fall to greed. It was something he often used to his own advantage.