Seven Months in Heaven [Zhongchi/Tartali]

Chapter 7 - The Many Uses of Oil

As the seventh month of the year drew in, it brought with it humidity and air that burned the lungs, turning Childe's office into a sticky prison of sweat. Childe sat with his chair by the open window, hoping to catch a gust of relieving sea breeze brushing its chill across his sweat-slicked skin. In his hand was a letter, and he frowned as he read its contents.

To our darling baby Eleventh,

So good to hear from you regarding your precious mission in Liyue. How very smart of you to reach out to me – I wasn't certain you possessed the intelligence to consider such an option – but as much as I'd love to, I can't help with your little problem.

Best of luck, and try not to take much longer – Her Majesty is getting rather twitchy at any mention of the place. Wouldn't want to cause her any inconvenience, would you?

All my best,

Harbinger Dottore

Childe's fist clenched into a ball, crushing the paper into a singularity.

Curse Dottore and his infantilising, patronising...

"Ugh!" He hurled the ball at the wall, watching as it bounced off and into the bin. Precisely where Dottore belonged.

He'd been trying. He'd been trying so hard. The Tianquan hadn't answered the letter he'd sent nearly a fortnight ago, but he hadn't been lax in the meantime. First, he'd tried the public library, but it was filled with children's stories and traditional novels, with not a useful reference book in sight. When that hadn't worked, he'd sent a letter to Dottore, swallowing his pride and detailing the peculiar mechanisms in the Chasm in hope the psycho might have an answer that didn't involve sticking chemicals in children.

If Dottore wasn't a Harbinger he had to 'get along well with' and 'not cause any trouble for', Childe would've taken him out years ago.

Dottore's eyes, blown wide with fear as Childe stood above him, blades ready to drive deep into the perfectly presented flesh of his nape. He would beg, plead for Childe not to kill him, and Childe would toy with him for a while, letting him think he might go free, only for Childe to cut his hopes short, followed by cutting his neck shortly after.

It wasn't that he usually took such pleasure in ending a life, but for Dottore he could make an exception.

Childe stood and crossed the room with a satisfied hum as he replayed the image in his head, sitting at his desk and pulling out a fresh sheet of paper to the sweet song of Dottore's screams.

He'd been too hasty; it was possible his original letter hadn't made it to the Tianquan. What if she hadn't rejected him at all, and it'd simply been lost during delivery? If he wrote her a new one, this time it would reach her, and this time she would agree to meet. He picked up his pen, but was interrupted by his office door flying open, swinging back so the handle crunched into the back wall.

"Lord Harbinger!" Ekaterina held a hand to her chest, panting. "The Tianquan has been sighted walking through Liyue. I saw her when seeing out a disagreeable customer."

Childe shot to his feet. "With how many?"

"Alone, sir. Not a guard or attendant in sight."

That was peculiar.

No, that was downright suspicious. The Tianquan wandering about Liyue with not a single escort? Either she was being foolish, hasty, or she wanted him to find her. Whichever it was, he was going to find out.

"Understood," he said, fastening the top two buttons of his shirt, "I'll catch her on her way. Where was she headed?"

"Toward the docks, sir."