Zhongli returned from the harbor, where the lanterns flew, and made his way up the wharf. The festivities were, as always, spectacular. Now that he lived as a mortal, he could appreciate Lantern Rite more intimately.
As he crossed the walkway leading to Wangshen Funeral Parlor, he saw a familiar figure in the lamplight. Miss Director Hu Tao leaned against the guard rail, staring up at the floating lanterns with a nostalgic smile.
He approached her. "It is a lovely night, director."
"Yeah," she said distantly.
"Pardon my curiosity, but you seem off. Has your close call during the rite frightened you?"
"A little, but I'm fine," she said. "Honestly, it's given me some perspective."
Zhongli leaned on the rail beside her, inviting her to continue. She shot him an appreciative glance before returning to the constellation of lanterns floating over the harbor. Her arms folded atop each other on the railing.
"I always thought Dad failed the rite because he was too attached to the world, to me. For the longest time, I resented him. But now, I think I'm beginning to understand how he felt. When the moment of truth came, I faltered too. Turns out, there's a lot I can't let go of either."
Hu Tao's cheeks turned a shade redder, and Zhongli smiled knowingly.
"Ironically, my connection to him saved me," she said. "He couldn't let go of me either. So, it seems my ties to this 'mortal realm' were stronger than the call to pass over. This time, love was stronger than death."
"In my experience, director, love is always stronger than death. Although death claims those we care for, it cannot snuff out the love we feel for them. That keeps them alive long after their souls depart Teyvat."
"Heh, corny but true." She chuckled. "I would've gone willingly. I still will when my time comes. Until then, I'm going to make the most of my time here with the people I love."
"A most wise decision," he agreed.
Zhongli regarded Hu Tao with pride. In a long line of funeral parlor directors, she more than lived up to her predecessors. She reminded him of all the countless directors he had watched be born, grow up, raise families, and pass on. He felt so fortunate to have seen them all come and go, passing on their wisdom to the next generation.
More than that, though, Zhongli felt blessed to interact with the current director. She was, without a doubt, someone he would cherish long after she left this world. Who knew? Perhaps he would have the privilege of watching her children grow up to surpass her.
The night sky exploded with fireworks. Hu Tao pointed and gasped like she did every year, and he smiled indulgently. This moment, he would forever carry in his heart.