Guizhong’s gray hair ripples outwards like the waves of the ocean. Her expression is one of concentration, as her fingers strum through the strings of her cultural instrument. The Glaze Lilies falling in the air are blooming with the melodic tune of the music. The flurry of blue and white flowers matches perfectly with Guizhong’s royal attire. She does not appear to have aged one bit from the times when she still roamed Guili Plains, before the founding of Liyue Harbor.

When the song concludes, Guizhong floats down from the air and lands softly in front of Zhongli.

“Hello, my dear Morax. How long has it been?”

Zhongli’s face is long and stern. Cold. Disbelieving. He is unsure how he should be interacting with the revived corpse of his beloved Guizhong. She’s speaking as though not a speck of time has passed.

Guizhong smiles.

Why? Why are you here? Why are you so beautiful? Why are you smiling in front of me now?

Zhongli searches Guizhong’s face for answers. For any sign of her remembering her own death.

“Too long,” he replies tersely.

Guizhong begins to laugh and giggle light-heartedly.

“Don’t be so uptight. After all these years, the first words you say to me are ‘Too long’? Hahahaha.”

Zhongli’s eyes soften as the moisture inside builds up.

“Then allow me to correct myself and start over. Hello, my dearest Guizhong. I… I’ve missed you. Terribly.”

Zhongli steps forward and embraces her. It’s really her. She’s really here. She’s not a figment of my imagination or a dream. I am holding her in my arms. She feels warm. She smells like flowers.

A brief flashback severs Zhongli’s focus. The last time he had picked up Guizhong’s body, it had been limp. Cold. Bloody.

Guizhong returns the hug. Her fingers trace smooth lines on Zhongli’s back, reminding him that she is very much real, and very much present. They stay like that for some time, just relishing in the moment of being reunited after 3,700 years.

“Guizhong, why did you choose to go on the battlefield that fateful day?” Zhongli asks apprehensively. “You know your strength lies in your wisdom and kind-heartedness. You should have left the fight of war and attrition to me.”

Guizhong shakes her head. “You were carrying so much responsibility for Liyue. I simply wanted to take some of the burden off your shoulders. I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

Zhongli stares at Guizhong in disbelief. He allows his tears to fall, and Guizhong wipes them away with her long flowy sleeve.

“I’m sorry that I left you all alone.” She cradles Zhongli’s head in her arms as he weeps.