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The door to the funeral parlor flies open, and Zhongli watches the black-brown blur of hat and twin tails streak past the edges of his vision.
"Zhongli! I need a towel!" he hears Master Hu yell over the rim of his teacup, running her small hands over the upper Parlor shelves. "We have towels here, right? Where are they?"
"I put them away at the back cabinet," Zhongli hums, taking a sip of his tea and putting it down with a pleasant clink. "...though I am curious, Master Hu, as to why you might need a towel while passing out flyers-"
Zhongli tips his head up to meet her eyes - and then pauses. Blinks. Several times.
"...Master Hu," he says, an odd note entering his voice. "...you're soaked."
Hu Tao flashes him an unamused expression, smothering her damp hair in a towel. There were damp splotches over her shoulders, her clothes; the splatter of water over her cheeks. No, hold on - now that Zhongli looked at it, it didn't look quite like water. There was an unmistakable amber tinge to it, the scent of something herbal lacing the air...
He furrows his brow.
"Hu Tao," he says slowly. "Is that tea?"
"Yep," Hu Tao responds blandly, popping the sound. She bundles the towel back into her hands and buries her face in it.
Zhongli grows even more confused. "...Forgive me, Master Hu - I was under the impression that you were...passing out flyers for the latest discount this evening." He winces a little at that, at the reminder of the morbid illustrations Hu Tao had insisted for each brochure. Once again, another play of eccentric marketing from the esteemed 77th Director. "How in Teyvat did you get tea all over you?"
"Well, I was passing out flyers," Hu Tao says with a sigh, shaking the sheaf of papers for emphasis. They were curled around the edges, splotched in damp amber. "...and then someone decided to throw their tea at me."
Zhongli had been lifting his own teacup for another sip. He stiffens, the porcelain stalled midway to his lips. "...someone threw tea at you?"
"...yep," Hu Tao responds again, rolling her eyes.
"Hot tea?"
"Thankfully for me, no." Hu Tao wipes off her hands, then dumps the stained towel into the bin with a sigh. "...not that they checked whether it was hot or not before flinging it at me and telling me to get lost. Seems like they didn't really appreciate the flyer! Or, well - me."
Hu Tao shrugs an indifferent shoulder, lips still raised in the ghost of a smile - but Zhongli thinks he can catch the tension knotting her frame, turning the loose hold of her shoulders stiff and the upward curve of her smile a little off. Hu Tao was renowned throughout the Harbor for her eccentricity, of course, and her headstrong attitude did often rub people the wrong way. But there was still a degree of respect involved - for her services, for her professionalism, for her undeniable skill at laying the dead to rest. Zhongli had always believed Liyue was simultaneously wary of Hu Tao yet endeared to her in kind. Though perhaps that was not the case for everyone.
Zhongli tightens his grip on the teacup - not hard enough to shatter, but...just about. He sets it back down instead, harder than intended, knocking the porcelain against the Sandbearer wood. Hu Tao catches this and flashes him a bemused look.
"That's...incredibly discourteous," he starts, his voice as calm and demure as ever - but with an undercurrent of something else rumbling through the words. "And not to mention irresponsible. If the tea had been hot, you would've undoubtedly gotten hurt."
"Tell that to some people," Hu Tao shrugs again, though there's a curious warmth to her bemused expression; as if placated somewhat by Zhongli's response. She smiles at him reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Zhongli - this happens from time to time, I know how to handle it!"
Something catches in Zhongli's chest, though his face betrays nothing. "...you mean to say this isn't the first time someone has flung their tea at you?"
"I mean, it's not always tea. Sometimes they just tell me to get lost, or to stop being annoying, and one time someone took my flyer just to crumple it up into a ball in front of me and chuck it into the port - hey, Zhongli, where are you going?" Hu Tao pauses, eyes wide and curious as Zhongli rises from his chair. He shoots his cuffs and straightens his lapels, his face inscrutable as stone, his eyes burning amber.
"...you still have more flyers to hand out, correct?" he asks, in a soft voice. He fixes his sleeves and gestures for the sheaf. "As a consultant of the Parlor, I'd like to lend my assistance in doing so - if you'll have me."
Hu Tao blinks a little at this, a little wrongfooted at the request. She stares at Zhongli's outstretched hand, the stony lock of his expression, the cold fire of his eyes - and then slowly grins. Smugly. And warmly, too.
"...huh. Sure," she replies, pressing one half of the tea-stained flyers into his palm. She winks at him with a smile. "...let's go hand them out, Zhongli xiansheng."
"...you again?" sneers a familiar passerby, dangling an empty bag of mora meat from the crook of his elbow. He looks down at Hu Tao and her damp sheaf of flyers with clear disdain. "...jeez. When the locals described you as some kind of menace, they weren't kidding. Was the tea from earlier not enough?"
Hu Tao just flashes him her best selling smile. "Now, now! I apologize if I may have rubbed you the wrong way earlier, sir - but I assure you this discount is top tier quality! So if ever you think you might be reaching your end soon-"
"..is that a threat?" His lip curls, unamused.
Hu Tao is unfazed. She presents him with a flyer, still beaming sunnily "Not at all, sir! We at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor don't take lives - we celebrate them! At their end, that is. By making sure your journey to the afterlife is a comfy and peaceful one. Here, take a flyer - you won't regret it!"
The man look like he's very much deliberating whether to fling something else at her. His fingers twitch for the empty bag of mora meat at his elbow, eyes twitching. "Jeez. You are one annoying-"
"...is something wrong, Master Hu?"
Zhongli's smooth voice cuts through his sentence like a blade, soft and demure and almost bone-chillingly polite. Hu Tao is unwittingly reminded of gentle rainfall before thunder as her consultant emerges slowly down the street behind her, drenching both her and the man in the height of his shadow.
Hu Tao can't see Zhongli's face from where he's standing behind her, but from the way the man suddenly pauses, looking above her head with wide eyes, it's probably a pretty interesting expression. Hu Tao smiles and chirps at him: "...nope! I was just giving this kind gentleman here a flyer. He seems veeeery interested in the discount, Zhongli!"
"...hm. Is that so?" Zhongli hums again, and it's all cold fire and quiet steel. Hu Tao doesn't have to turn her head to know his eyes are probably glowing - the growing unease of the man's face was enough of a tell. "...in that case, sir, may we interest you in our latest discount?"
"Uh-" the man looks a bit bewildered. His fingers leave the bag at his arm, eyes slanting down the street instinctually for help. "...erm. Yeah, I'm...not really interested, so-"
"Oh? And here I believed the Director had said you were?" Zhongli's voice continues over her head, each word dropping like the cold weight of stone. Hu Tao sees the man take an uncertain step back. "...I wouldn't think she'd be the sort to misconstrue people's intentions. After all, it's not as if you gave her any harsh inclinations to the contrary, such as, say, dumping your tea over her head."
Zhongli's voice sharpens, pinning the man like the point of a knife. Hu Tao doesn't miss the way his face blanches. Visibly.
"...I. Uh. Look, it was just, um, a funny prank-" he stammers, face turning white.
"Oh? Are you admitting something of a sort did happen? I do certainly hope not, considering how...irresponsible it is, to carelessly sling tea at a young stranger. Not to mention unfathomably rude." There's a strange undercurrent to Zhongli's voice that makes even Hu Tao wince in sympathy. The shifting of stone, curbed but furious. "...hm. I must ask again to reconfirm, then - are you interested in this discount, kind sir, or are you not?"
The man's face blanches white. He extends a shaky hand and takes the flyer from Hu Tao, head bobbing all the while. "I am! I'm interested! Er, thank you, Master Hu - I'll make sure to look into it. As much as I can. I'll do all the research I need - thank you for the flyer!"
Then he shoves the flyer into his pocket and hightails it back the way he came.
"...a flyer, sir?"
"...for Archon's sake, aren't you the brat from the Funeral Parlor? I don't want anything to do with yo- oh. Uh. Sure. Let me...take a look at that."
"Hi sir! Care for a flyer?"
"...what is this? Oh damn, you're that crazy kid from the Parlor. Can you stop this for once- ahem. Uh. What I mean is, I'd love one, Master Hu."
"Hi! Looking for a discount on coffins? You won't regret it!"
"...I'll make sure you regret all the bullshit you pull this time, Master Hu- oh. Oh. I'm so sorry. Yes, uh, I'll take a flyer."
Hu Tao beams as the flustered Fatui agent takes the last of her flyers from her hands, dipping his hat in a courteous gesture before legging it back down the street. She plants both hands on her hips and beams, all the while acutely aware of Zhongli's unyielding presence at her side; his shadow splashing over the curb, his eyes still kindling gold.
"Wow. That was the most effective my flyers have ever been!" She beams sunnily. "...and also, one of the most peaceful processes I've had in awhile. Wonder why that is, Zhongli?"
"...hmm," he hums, non-commitally, and Hu Tao turns to see his shoulders have evened out; his amber eyes dimmed. "...I'm afraid I have no idea, Master Hu. Perhaps our luck is turning?"
Hu Tao grins at him, raising a brow.
"...sure," she sings, all chirpy and bright. "Let's go with that."