Childe’s chopsticks froze midair as he watched the food on the table disappear at an alarming rate. Lumine and Paimon were fully engrossed in their meal, their focus unbreakable.
To make matters worse for him, Lumine had already called over the servers to order more dishes.
It was a rare opportunity to splurge on someone else’s dime, and Lumine wasn’t about to waste it.
In Mondstadt, mooching off Diluc had mostly meant fine wine, which she wasn’t allowed to drink. But here? It was food, with no age restrictions, and the bill was going to the Fatui.
Eating at the Fatui’s expense? It didn’t get better than this.
As the dishes piled higher and higher on the table, Childe discreetly checked his wallet, wondering if he’d brought enough to cover everything.
Meanwhile, Zhongli observed the scene with quiet amusement. After sampling a few dishes, he opted to sip tea instead.
Jia Changjiang, though capable of competing with Lumine, soon finished eating. Sitting back, he let his gaze settle on Zhongli, studying the former Geo Archon in his current guise.
The founder of Liyue Harbor, known as the God of War among the adepti, had built an empire through force, vanquishing or suppressing countless rival gods. His legends painted him as a deity whose strength could reshape the land and maintain balance.
Fighting him would be far more interesting than planning his funeral, Jia Changjiang thought wryly.
Sensing the weight of his stare, Zhongli turned his head and met Jia Changjiang’s gaze, a flicker of curiosity crossing his otherwise stoic features.
“Liuli Pavilion primarily serves food, but it also has quiet tea rooms reserved for private discussions,” Zhongli said calmly. “Might I trouble you to join me for a brief talk?”
“Me?” Jia Changjiang blinked, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’ve had my fill anyway.”
Leaving Lumine and Paimon to their feast—and Childe to his futile attempts at snagging a bite—the two men followed a server to a secluded tea room, its ambiance perfect for conversation.
Once seated, it was Jia Changjiang who broke the silence.
“So, what’s this about, Lord Geo?” he asked with a smirk.
Zhongli’s expression remained calm, showing no surprise at being addressed by his true identity. Instead, he inclined his head slightly. “It seems you recognized me long before now. No wonder your demeanor during our earlier discussions was… peculiar.”
With those words, Zhongli openly acknowledged his identity to Jia Changjiang.
“You must be quite exceptional to have earned the trust of an old friend of mine,” Zhongli said. “May I ask how you discerned who I am?”
Jia Changjiang merely smiled but offered no explanation.
Curious, he asked instead, “What do you mean by ‘an old friend’s trust’?”
Zhongli gestured to Jia Changjiang’s shoulder. “The Anemo Archon left his mark on you. Though it’s faint, traces of his aura remain.”
So that’s what he’s talking about, Jia Changjiang realized, recalling the mark Venti had left on him.
“Since you already know my identity, it wouldn’t be proper to leave things unresolved,” Zhongli continued. “In the land of contracts, I must uphold the principles I embody. Thus, I would like to propose a contract.”
“A contract?” Jia Changjiang asked. “What kind of contract?”
“One of confidentiality,” Zhongli said. “You will keep my identity a secret, and in exchange, I will offer suitable compensation. No other conditions will be imposed.”
Jia Changjiang raised an eyebrow. “Do you really need a contract for this? Most people wouldn’t dare expose you, even without one.”
“No,” Zhongli replied, shaking his head. “This is the land of contracts, and as the God of Contracts, I must lead by example.
“Moreover, since I am the one making the request, it is only fair that I provide adequate compensation. By formalizing this agreement, I also show my respect for you—a trust validated by my old friend.”
Jia Changjiang considered the steadfastness in Zhongli’s tone and nodded. “I get it. Contracts are serious business for you. Fine, I’ll agree to this, but on one condition: let’s raise the stakes on both sides.”
“Raise the stakes?” Zhongli’s eyes gleamed faintly. “That can be arranged, provided it adheres to the principle of equivalent exchange.
“But remember,” he added, his tone firm, “Liyue has a rule: those who break their contracts must face the punishment of the rock. This is not a threat, merely the natural consequence of violating an agreement.”
“I get it—stick to the terms,” Jia Changjiang said. “So, shall we discuss the stakes?”
He leaned forward slightly. “First… I want to fight you. Your identity doesn’t matter; you can pick the time and place. And secondly…”
Lowering his voice, Jia Changjiang whispered something to Zhongli, ensuring no one else could overhear.
“Interesting,” Zhongli mused, his gaze sharpening. “Are you certain you can fulfill this contract?”
“Certain?” Jia Changjiang grinned, baring his teeth slightly. “When I handled Dvalin’s rampage in Mondstadt, no one thought I’d pull it off. But I did.
“This is no different. If I consider you a friend, then this contract is as good as a promise to a friend—just like the one I made to Venti.”
He extended his hand to Zhongli. “If I agree, I’ll see it through no matter what.”
“Friend?” Zhongli regarded the outstretched hand thoughtfully. “Few would offer friendship so easily after learning my identity.”
“Friends are friends, no matter the circumstances,” Jia Changjiang said with a chuckle. “Even if it starts as a working partnership. Venti and I started out as drinking buddies, and look at us now.
“Friendship is something you cultivate over time.”
“Very well.”
Zhongli clasped Jia Changjiang’s hand firmly. “Then, as of this moment, the contract is sealed.
“This is the contract between Zhongli of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and you.”
—
This is a fan translation of 武器大师在原神绝不死于徒手 by 徐人双 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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