#anqi writes

[yoimix]

genshin reaction where yn bites their s/o since you want to **** ayato 🥺

NOW LISTEN I DONT KNOW WHY GENSHIN CENSORS BITE 😭 i am a. child of god. idk what you're talking about but i will write you anything bbygirl who do you want 🥰

[archonanqi]

consequence / pt i

⛔️ Warning: This is an exploration of Zhongli’s manipulative tendencies that we see glimpses of in his archon and story quest. Absolutely no part of the relationship depicted here is healthy or consensual. Please proceed with caution. 

🔖 [info] [next]

—

pt. i of iii

Looking back, you should have noticed that something was wrong the moment Zhongli had insisted on treating you and Aether to dinner. 

You and Paimon tried to stop him, of course — far too many of his shopping sprees in the past had ended with the Millelith involved or your pockets emptied of Mora (usually both, really). Yet today, he’d produced a wallet lined with gleaming coins, and any protests died quickly on Paimon’s lips. 

“Wow, that’s enough to buy—” she marvelled, staring as intently as though her gaze itself could start pocketing the Mora, “at least… TEN Golden Crabs from Wanmin Restaurant!” 

Zhongli chuckled, the sound still sending pleasant shivers down your spine even after all the months you’d spent traveling with him. “A little more than that, Paimon, but a good guess nonetheless.” He turned his amber gaze to you and your brother, who had not strayed a foot away from you since the Abyss released its hold on him. 

Aether had kept an easy smile on his face for the past few days, but you’d known him long enough to pick out the signs of guilt, despite your reiterated reassurances that what the Abyss did to him was not his fault. It would take a long time for him to feel alright again; and you’d be there for him for as long as it took. 

“And as for you two?” Zhongli continued, “will Wanmin Restaurant be agreeable? Though of course, if you believe that such a momentous reunion demands something a little more extravagant, I’m sure that Xinyue Pavillion is still taking reservations—”

“No, that’s not—” you weren’t sure why you were hesitating. So what if he mysteriously found himself without enough Mora by the end of the meal, and you ended up having to foot the bill as usual? It stung a little to think about, but it wasn’t as though you’d have any need for Mora after tonight. “That’s not it. After everything you’ve done for us during our travels, I couldn’t possibly accept more from you, Zhongli.”

Couldn’t possibly bear sitting at a table with Zhongli, knowing that it’d be the last time you’d ever see him. This was why you’d always tried to leave each world with a clean cut. This was why, at the break of dawn, you and Aether would leave without telling anyone — not Jean, not Cyno, not Dainsleif, not Ajax. Not even Zhongli, with whom you’d spent the bulk of your past year.  

“Oh, no,” Zhongli replied, brows arching upwards, “I’ve told you, have I not? The pleasure of our travels were mine to enjoy.” 

“Er... well. I’m sure Aether is also tired and wants to rest,” you prompted, squeezing Aether’s hand. Aether nodded quickly — no matter the world, you’d always been able to count on him to pick up on your nuanced signals. Though he might not know why, he knew that you were uneasy with going to this dinner, and that was enough.

“Hmm,” Zhongli pondered this shortly, then turned to your brother. You’d seen that look of calculated determination on his face before, in front of basha stalls and souvenir stores across the continent. A look that meant Zhongli would get what he wanted. “I had rather been looking forward to getting to know the sibling of my favored travel companion. Are you certain? Wanmin Restaurant is quite the gem of Liyue Harbor, and I’m certain that the food here will be a fair few notches above what the Abyss Order has been able to offer you.” 

There was a slight, amiable smile on his face, but bringing up the Abyss was a painfully low blow and you had no doubt that Zhongli, the lord of contracts and negotiations and everything in between, knew it. You watched in mute horror as the guilt and regret danced on Aether’s face, before he finally gathered it all back into an apologetic smile. “Of course, Mr. Zhongli. Far be it from me to refuse a dinner with the former Geo Archon himself, especially with all the trouble I’ve caused you...”

—  

Even after traveling the seven nations, you’d never once stopped pining for the savory, hearty flavors of Liyue cuisine. The spice of the black-perch stew that Xiangling taught you to cook had kept you warm through many a Snezhnayan blizzard, after all. Basking in the familiar scent of Wanmin Restaurant with a stomach full of hot food, and watching Paimon devour skewers of meat five at a time, you began to feel much better. 

The anger you’d felt at Zhongli’s manipulation of your brother had also since faded into contentment. After all, negotiation, you found, came as naturally to Zhongli as breathing; he had likely meant nothing by it.

Maybe it was okay that you spent just one more night with Zhongli. Maybe it would turn out to be the closure you need. 

You glanced at the man in question; he was teaching Aether how to use chopsticks, of course, and you were grateful to see that the haunted look in Aether’s eyes had given way to exasperation for now. By the time your brother had snapped his third pair of wooden ones, he was smiling and Paimon was just about rolling around on the ground in glee. As you stifled your own laughter, Zhongli set two small bottles of wine on the table.

You tried not to let yourself think about how the string lights of Chi’hu Rock glinted like stars in his eyes. 

“What’s this?” You joked, referencing Zhongli’s anger from the one time he’d seen Venti get you drunk. “Are we all to become disgraces to the arts tonight?”

Zhongli’s lip curled into a small smile. You couldn’t remember when his smiles had started coming more and more frequently, but you’d learned to savor each one. “Ordinarily, I would not condone such strong drink, but today is the most special of occasions, no?” 

As you watched, a goblet began to form between his fingers, golden, black and resplendent. You’d seen similar ones before, buried deep within the Domain of Guyun Stone Forest — an Archaic Petra Artifact, a Goblet of Chiseled Crag. According to Zhongli’s stories, the very same ones that he had created for the Seven to drink from in celebration, before all but two of them had vanished from this world. 

The cruel irony was not lost on you. 

“Besides, this is nothing like the watered down Mondstadt alcohol that that young bard partakes in,” Zhongli said, gloved fingers masterfully plucking the cork from the first bottle and pouring it into the goblets. “These two bottles contain the finest wu’liang’ye spirit that Liyue has to offer. They’ve been aged for well over decades with a technique passed down from the goddess Guizhong, whose mastery over grain and crop transcends even my own today.” 

“We��re—  flattered,” you bowed your head. The matter of Guizhong, the late Goddess of Dust and Zhongli’s good friend from when the Archon War still ravaged the land, was but one of the many things that you’d wanted to talk to him about. If only you had more time. “Thank you, Zhongli.”

He passed you the first goblet, then the second to Paimon. “Please, let’s forgo the formalities tonight. You are a dear friend to me, and so, by extension, is your family.” The second bottle was opened, its contents split between Zhongli and Aether. “Let us drink, to the happy reunion of loved ones, to the fruitful friendships you have forged in this world, and to all the triumphant adventures to be had still.”

The wince you hid was only partially from the burning drag of liquor sliding down your throat.

It had not escaped your notice that Zhongli had been staring at you all night — more intently than usual, and that was saying something. 

“y/n, I think—“ he began, as you met his gaze. By the Archons, the way he said your name—

“ Paimon thinks there should be less talking, more drinking! Ganbei!” Paimon screeches, downing half her goblet and immediately falling down to the cobblestone road, spluttering and choking at the heat. 

“This is… very strong, Mr. Zhongli,” Aether was the first to speak after. “Wonderful liquor. What gives it its mild bitterness?” 

“Bitter?” You asked, letting the drink roll on your tongue, “where’s the bitterness? It tastes mostly sweet to me.”

Aether took another long drink, thoughtfully. “Definitely bitter. Here, try a sip?”

You took his goblet, but as you pressed it to your lips, you felt it begin to violently vibrate. Quickly, you pulled it away from your face just in time for it to shatter in your hand, gold and black shards falling to the floor as what little drink left in the goblet splattered across the table. 

“Goodness,” Zhongli said, after your surprised yelp brought Paimon stumbling back to your side, her cheeks still stained scarlet from the liquor, “I must apologize. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had to construct something so small and intricate — I am out of practice, it seems.” 

“Oh! That’s quite alright, I drank most of it already—“ Aether glanced over your shoulder, “by the Archons, Paimon has a knife!”

As you watched Chef Mao try to wrestle his knife back from a cackling, red-faced Paimon, you recalled the crystal hairpin Zhongli had forged two months ago — when you’d complained of the Natlan desert wind blowing your hair into your eyes. It had been just as intricate as the goblets, and much, much smaller. One of the few belongings you were planning on bringing with you.

You wondered what reason Zhongli had to lie. 

— 

“Maybe it was a good thing your goblet shattered,” you told Zhongli, prodding Aether with one of your chopsticks. He had stopped even groaning in response. And though Paimon was still conscious, she looked as though she would much rather not be, sitting forlornly on the table with her head in her hands. “Look at them. Drunk as skunks.” 

“Maybe,” Zhongli replied, “though I did not expect these two to have such low tolerance to alcohol. It was a miscalculation on my part.” 

“Paimon’s always like this —you know, remember that bar in Snezhnaya?— but Aether’s usually better at holding his drink,” you sighed. “I should probably get him back to Wangshu Inn.”

“Let him sober up a little here. It’s a long trek to the inn, and you don’t want him making a mess of his dinner on the way back.” Loathe as you were to admit it, Zhongli was right. It seemed that the fates were demanding that you spend a little more time with him, after all. He stood up, his tremendous height still a little startling to you. 

“Will you walk with me for a little, y/n?”

It wasn’t fair, really, the way he said your name. “Where are we going?” 

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “The harbor for a breath of fresh air perhaps, or Bubu Pharmacy to fetch a remedy for Aether. Does it matter to you, where we go?”

Going anywhere with him was a pleasure, one that against your better judgement, you yearned to partake in one more time. “No,” you admitted. “Let’s go.” 

--  

“It’s been so long since we’ve walked through Liyue — a year, almost. Do you remember? It was my birthday, and we walked for hours through the harbor.” Zhongli chuckled, the sound a deep rumble through your bones. “You wouldn’t let me buy dinner that time, either.” 

The nights of Liyue, its rolling hills and monumental mountains, were a peace you’d never known before coming to Teyvat. The city was uncharacteristically quiet tonight, and by the time you got to Yujing Terrace, you realized that it was the emptiest you’d ever seen it. The usual evening crowd of kids out of school and elderly taking strolls were nowhere to be seen — not even the Millelith guards usually standing by the gate were there. 

“ That time ,” you corrected, swallowing your unease at the silence of the city, “you didn’t have a single Mora to your name.” The strides you had to take to keep up with Zhongli’s long, long legs were huge, and you struggled to stay by his side. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that I wouldn’t have had to pay the entire bill if we’d actually gone to Wangshu Inn for dinner that night.” 

You immediately regretted it when he turned his golden gaze upon you, and it took everything within you to not avert yours. “Perhaps that may have been the case,” Zhongli allowed, “though I would have returned your investment tenfold over the next week. Have I not proven as much throughout our travels?” 

His vast knowledge of valuable gemstones and herbs — and more importantly, his uncanny ability to get any deal he set his mind to — had kept you and Paimon fed for many a week during your trek through the caves and jungles of Sumeru. You had to give him that. And that wasn’t not even counting the number of boulders, traps, swords and ravenous winter wolves that his shield had protected you from—

“Fine, I’ll admit, it was nice to have you around, you bourgeois parasite,” you said, playing on his joke back from when you’d first met. Then, after a brief silence, “Zhongli, in all seriousness, thank you.”

“Hmm?”

“I know that you’ve accompanied many adventurers on their journeys,” you explained, “but you — you dropped everything and journeyed with me, and you’ve done more for me than anyone else. I could never have found Aether without you.” Zhongli was being uncharacteristically quiet, and so you hurried along to fill the silence, “We— we made a great team together. And I will never forget everything that you’ve done for me. So, thank you.” 

“A great team together...” he repeated, voice lower than a whisper. “y/n, this sounds like a farewell.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. Even in silence, you were breaking the most important rule you’d learned throughout all your travels. Never let them know you’re leaving.

Zhongli turned to face you, and his full attention is a force that you had not yet learned to endure. So instead, you turned your attention to the koi darting about among the lotus reeds as he continued, “I’ve noticed that you’ve been more careless with your Mora lately. And as for your hard-earned weapons, artifacts, and resources, you have given them all to the Knights of Favonius, correct?” 

“I gave some to the Millelith too,” you objected quietly.

“You know that is not what I meant,” Zhongli said. You did know. “Are you planning on leaving this world, y/n?”

“I have to,” you heard yourself say, “we don’t belong here.” 

As though he heard the waver in your voice, the Lord of Contracts honed in on it like a Sumeran jaguar. “Do you remember the first Lantern Rite you partook in? Though you had just arrived in Liyue, and though the Millelith, Qixing and Adepti each gave you reason to distrust them, you still chose to spend the festival helping people.” 

“I didn’t help that many—” 

“Twenty-six people,” he corrected, and you cursed yourself for not thinking that he would remember. “A dozen more, if we are to count the young and elderly of Qingce, whose lives were brightened by the festivities you brought to the village. And hundreds above that, if we acknowledge every person in Liyue Harbor, whose Lantern Rite would have been ruined had you not stopped the thief who tried to steal the Mingxiao Lantern. Am I correct?” 

“I did it for the compensation,” you retorted, determined not to let yourself think about the people you’d helped. Who would help them after you left? 

“Hmm.” Zhongli rested his gloved fingers against his chin, and you could tell that he didn’t buy your bluff, not for a moment. “Anyone else, I may have believed. But you, y/n, who have begged me to stay my hand against fleeing Hilichurls? You, who could not bear to attack the Mitachurl that sits alone on Mount Tianheng and watches the harbor? You, who gave it a name ?” 

“Okay,” you finally relented. “Okay, I like helping people, and I don’t want to go. But that doesn’t mean I can stay. It’s— it’s not good for Aether to stay here, after what this world has done to him.” 

“With time, I believe your brother can adjust—”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Zhongli,” you begged, and the tone of your voice finally made him take notice. He regarded you for a moment, and you thought you saw his eyes glow bright. 

“The last thing I wanted,” he sighed, reaching into his coat, “was for it to come to this.” 

Your first reaction was to reach for your weapon — it wasn’t there; you’d given Festering Desire to dear little Bennett just before you’d left Mondstadt. Still, you felt the bright burn of shame when the only thing Zhongli pulled out was a piece of parchment, folded into a perfect square. How could you think that after everything, Zhongli would ever hurt you? 

“Do you remember this contract of ours?” Zhongli asked as he carefully unfolded the paper, handing it to you. You stared down at the neat lines of calligraphy, punctuated by your name in your own handwriting. 

Of course you remembered: the moment you had approached Zhongli at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, after your expedition into Havria’s domain. The day you’d asked him to join you on your travels.

“ Oh? A new contract? I'm still on leave, but I can accompany you for a while. ” Zhongli had mused, as though he hadn’t just sent butterflies soaring through your insides. “ What name should I use on the contract? I have a great many names, though when on leave... I tend to go by Zhongli. And you, Traveler? What name will you be signing on this contract— ?” 

The following contract had been quickly printed in his swift brushstrokes — simple terms: he would lend his strength and knowledge to your endeavor of finding Aether, and you, in turn, would simply keep him in good company. 

Even at the time, you’d wondered what was in it for Zhongli — the terms of the contract had seemed rather imbalanced, but in your euphoria at having gained Zhongli as your new travelling partner, you had not thought more on it. 

—

The same terms stared back at you now, and you were quickly realizing what was going on. 

For thousands of years, I have made countless contracts. If the deal was of no benefit, then I certainly would not be inclined to agree to it. 

The day you discovered his identity, Zhongli had said this to you. He’d never signed a contract before that did not benefit him wholly; and you were a fool to think he would’ve made an exception for you. 

“By keeping you in good company,” you said, numbly, “you don’t mean— forever ?”

“In the circumstances that the duration of a contract’s term is unspecified—” Zhongli held out his hand for the parchment. Briefly, you debated tearing it up and scattering it to the koi, but you knew well enough that it would not void the contract — one of the hundreds of thousands that Zhongli had undoubtedly seared into his memory. You handed it back to him silently. “Well, it would be fair to say that you are obliged to uphold it, until I personally release you from it, no?”

The first thing you felt was: fear, deep and chilling. You hadn’t truly believed that Zhongli would hurt you — until now. Until a contract had come into play. Until you realized you were poised to break one.

“You can’t be serious,” you said, but you’d known him long enough to know that he was. “I found my brother. I’m not from this world, and so I have to leave. I have to go home.” 

“Has Teyvat not provided you enough of a home? You have made friends here, allies who would die for you in a heartbeat. And as for Liyue — Liyue will always be as much of your home as mine. You have your own room in Chi’hu Rock, you are on a first-name basis with the Qixing and the Adepti would spar with you as though you were one of their own—”

You could feel your resolve trembling, but it was not enough. You would not ask your brother to compromise his wellbeing in a world that had not been kind to him. “I’m sorry,” you said, and you understood fully what was coming. “I can’t stay.” 

“After everything we have gone through, my friend, you would leave... me?” And there it was. In that moment, the former Archon — the oldest being in the world — looked so lonely that you almost broke down, almost apologized, almost reassured him that you would never once again put him through what he’d gone through far too many times: the loss of a friend. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “My family comes first. I can’t stay.” 

Zhongli’s expression became unreadable. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, there was a peaceful silence that you savored. You had a feeling that it would be the last one you’d ever have in Liyue. The seconds crawled by, and briefly, you let yourself hope that Zhongli might relent, might make an exception for his close travel companion. 

“Well then, my friend,” Zhongli finally said, holding out his right arm. Sparks of energy gathered in his palms, forming a wicked, golden spear. The Vortex Vanquisher. You’d seen it countless times, marveling each time at its beauty and strength. You never thought you would one day be staring down the end of it. “You must know what comes next.” 

—

On your journey, you’d witnessed many a broken contract between Zhongli and other people — an Inazuman merchant whose greed for an extra trinket got the better of him; a Sumeran scholar who just needed to grab that last book from the hidden ruins; a Snezhnayan soldier whose loyalty to the Tsaritsa transcended his gratitude to you saving his life— 

None of them had escaped unscathed.  And each time, after delivering the punishment required of the situation, Zhongli would ask you the same thing, uncharacteristic frustration in his voice: 

“ To get people to abide by a contract, and act in accordance with the guidelines set out within, is simply to ask them to respect the concept of fairness. It is not a large request. How are there those who still do not understand such simplicity? ”

Each time, after you’d cheered him on in his reckoning of justice, you would nod and agree sympathetically. None of their contracts, you thought, had been particularly difficult to uphold. And each time, you would thank the heavens that you had more sense than to break a promise between yourself and the God of Contracts. 

It seemed that today, you were going to learn of what happened when you did. 

You took a step backwards as Zhongli took a slow, calculated one towards you. Having closely watched him rain destruction down upon your foes for the past few months, you knew with certainty that you, lightheaded from the wind and the still exhausted from your fight with Aether, would not be able to keep up with his speed and technique. 

And even if you weren’t, how could you even hope to compete with six thousand years of experience in war and strife and carnage? No; fighting him was not an option.

“Come on now, Zhongli,” you pleaded, taking another step and discovering, to your horror, that one more step backwards would have you falling into the koi ponds. You had nowhere else to go. “Aren’t we friends?” 

Even as the words left your mouth, you knew that they would fall on uncaring ears. Friendship had never stayed the hand of the victor of the Archon war.

Zhongli took another lazy stride forward. 

“Are we really going to fight in the city? We’ll destroy half the harbor.”

“While I appreciate your concern, I am quite confident that it will not come to that,” Zhongli said, the ‘because I would long have you pinned under my spear before then’ unspoken but tacit. “And besides, most of Liyue architecture is of stone. It would be nothing that I could not easily fix.” 

Fair enough. You switched gears, praying that two millennia of walking amongst the mortals had given him some vestige of human empathy. “Please, I need to go back and check on Aether. What if he woke up and found himself alone? Who knows what Paimon’s done to him by now.”

“Aether,” Zhongli said, “will not wake up for another day or two.” 

You pause, letting that register. “What?” 

The first bottle: you and Paimon. The second bottle: Zhongli and Aether. You remembered how carefully Zhongli handed you the first goblet, though Liyuenese etiquette would have mandated that he pass the first drink to the guest at the table. The way the goblet had shattered suddenly rang clear in your mind’s eye. His lie. How adamantly Zhongli must have been trying to keep you from drinking from Aether’s cup— 

“The herb I placed in his drink was but a very mild… sedative. He will almost certainly not die from it, but it can take mortals up to two days to regain consciousness.”

“ What ?” You could barely breathe. “You’re joking. You drank from the same bottle he did.”

“You need not concern yourself about me. My body has always been much more resistant to poisons than that of mortals.” 

The rage made your throat tight; it had been a long, long time since you had been so angry. “Congratulations, you know that there’s absolutely no way I’m staying now, right?” 

“Even before our confrontation today, I could tell that your mind was already made up,” he explained, as nonchalant as ever, as though he hadn’t just poisoned your fucking brother . “Naturally, the next course of action was to prevent you from breaking your contract by any means necessary, so that we could further negotiate. I did not want—” 

You would never learn what Zhongli didn’t want, because the fury in your lungs erupted outwards in a burst of elemental energy. You reached out, grabbing one of the last swords in your arsenal — a dull blade that you had been keeping around for enhancement fodder — but it didn’t matter, didn’t matter didn’t matter didn’t matter. All that mattered in that moment was making Zhongli pay . 

The familiar warmth of the element you were attuned to channeled through the sword, and you swung it as hard as you could in the direction of the former Archon. A wake of hardened earth ripped through the stone brick of the terrace, circling Zhongli in a jagged cage of rock and crystal. A little too late, you realized your folly.

Zhongli absently reached out, resting his gloved fingers against the earthly fangs you’d entrapped him within. Even through the haze of your anger, you could see a smile — a kind you had never seen on him — forming between his cheeks. “How ironic,” he said, “that you would use the powers that I granted you against me.” 

You could see the glow of Geo flowing from your constructs towards his outstretched palm. Vaguely, you knew that you had to run . 

“And how endearing—” he continued, and you could hear the rumbling beneath your feet, even as you turned to flee, “—that you truly thought it would work.” 

From behind, a shockwave of Geo more powerful than anything you’d ever felt smashed into you, throwing you off your feet and slamming you against the wall behind the pond. You crumpled like a paper lantern, cheek hitting the cool stone floor. As you struggled to keep your eyes open, the last things you saw were Zhongli’s intricate boots, gleaming in the moonlight before you.

[vermillioncrown]

Hey verm, your LWH au is freaking perfection - I can’t wait to see how Lan Qiren finds out! Your JGY POV is absolutely awesome as well - he’s so attentive to his sworn brother’s freakout, and the utter insanity of the entire stage cast.

I’m curious about LWH’s cultivation - as Zyx, they got to work on strategy, and create new cutting-edge anqi. Do you think that she would be allowed to do the same as a member of Gusu Lan? Since she’s the highest-ranking woman in the sect, I’d imagine that she has a lot of responsibilities over on the women’s side of the mountain.

Thank you for your writing, I’ve never had such amazing brainworms before. DBD is truly one of the best things I have ever read.

thanks for reading larb, 🥰 let's see how things go from ch 1 (it could flop 🤷‍♂️)

every ch will rotate different povs bc i think the outside perspective on this trainwreck is more effective. lqr will get his turn whether he likes it or not (he dreads learning things concerning his niece)

i personally find jgy very hard to write. idk if it's bc it's the current point of dbd's timeline that i can't have another character's voice in my mind yet (that's why i can't write so many different fics at once - the preservation of vibes and voices is so neccessary) or just jgy being not as salient in personality traits as other mdzs characters (and the ones that are overt i gotta be careful not to turn him into... hm. someone blah)

there have been hints of what lwh gets up to in gusu lan. in particular, check out the answer where lqr tries to keep her from interacting w guests by getting her to prep special lectures

and as hinted in larb ch 1, she basically stood as proxy for lxc when her brothers were out at war. you can imagine how dbd-zyx bulldozes their way through shuangfeng sect hierarchy -> her growing up in a northern sect that lauds pedigree and talent (prodigy or not). she's up there.

all three lans' povs will give more flavor to lwh's place in the sect and their family. it will be wack, funny, and sad

just like the lans themselves (at least i hope i can do that)

again, thanks for the enthusiasm! i appreciate knowing my writing makes others happy. we're all on this ride together, i'm driving and i like to serpentine

[atlamagazine]

Contributor Spotlight (ARTIST) : Anqi

Tumblr: @atanqi

I'm a Brazilian BG artist and I'm also a big nerd who, like everyone else here, absolutely loves avatar and its entire universe! I'm also not very good at writing bios.

[siumerghe]

Ji Kang, from Alchemists, Mediums, and Magicians: Stories of Taoist Mystics

Alchemists, Mediums, and Magicians: Stories of Taoist Mystics is a collection of biographies of 144 historical figures associated with Daoism, compiled under the title Xuanping lu 玄品錄 by daoist Zhang Tianyu 張天雨 (1279-1350) and translated by Thomas Cleary.

Ji Kang was styled Shuye. He was a man of Zhi prefecture in the state of Qiao.(9) He was orphaned early. He had extraordinary talent, far beyond the crowd. He was more than six feet three inches tall.(10) He was eloquent and handsome, but he made his appearance plain and didn’t dress up. People considered him distinguished and elegant, but it was innate, naturally so.

He studied without instruction from teachers, read widely and comprehended everything. He was married into the ruling family of Wei and was given a prestige title. He used to practice nurturing nature and ingesting elixirs. He played the lute and sang poetry, enough to comfort his heart.

He considered spiritual immortality to be an endowment from nature, not a product of learning. As for reasonable exercise and nutrition, the standards of Anqi(11) and Grandfather Peng(12) could be reached, so he wrote Discourse on Nurturing Life.

Those with whom he always considered spiritual communication genuine were only Ruan Ji of Chenliu and Shan Tao of Henei, while those who joined their set were Xiang Xiu, Liu Ling, Ji’s nephew Han, and Wang Ru, eventually making up the Bamboo Grove association.

Ru said he’d lived with Kang in Shenyang for twenty years and never once saw him either angry or joyful.

Kang used to gather herbs, roaming mountains and wetlands. When he’d get into a good mood, he’d become ecstatic and forget to return. The occasional woodcutter or thatch cutter who encountered him thought he was a spirit man.

He went to the mountains of Ji county,(13) where he saw Sun Deng and then went wandering along with him. Deng was sunk in silence and self-contained; he didn’t talk or say anything. When Kang was about to leave, he asked for a word of advice. Deng said, “Your talent is of a high order, but your way of preserving your body is inadequate.”

He also met Wang Lie, and they went into the mountains together. Lie once found some stone marrow like rock sugar. He ingested half and gave the rest to Kang. In both cases it crystallized.

Wang also once saw a silk text in a cavern and immediately called Kang to go get it, but suddenly it could no longer be seen. Lie lamented, “Shuye’s mentality is extraordinary, and yet even though he looked right away he couldn’t find it. That’s fate.”

When Shan Tao was about to leave, he was selected for office but recommended Kang in his stead. Kang then presented Shan Tao with a letter announcing termination of contact. In sum it said, “I have heard the sayings left by Taoists, that ingesting polygonatum and atractylodes enables people to prolong the life span, and I have a lot of confidence in this. Roaming the mountains and wilds, watching birds and fish, is a pleasure to my heart. Were I to become an official, I’d have to give all of this up. How can I abandon what I enjoy to pursue what I fear! Now I just want to stay in a humble neighborhood, raise my children and grandchildren, from time to time express my feelings about separation and distance from relatives and friends, talking about the old days. A cup of unfiltered wine, a tune on the lute—that’s the extent of my ambition!”

Now that this had been put in writing, it was obvious he couldn’t be compelled or constrained.

The governor of Nanhai, Bao Jing, was one in communion with the miraculous; Xu Ning of Donghai took him for his teacher. One night Ning heard the sound of a lute in Jing’s room; marveling at its refinement, he asked about it. Jing said, “That was Ji Shuye.” Ning said, “Ji was killed—how could he be here?”(14)

Jing said, “Shuye projected the appearance of dying, but in reality he just left the body.”

This appears in Gu Kaizhi’s(15) eulogy of Ji Kang.

Footnotes:

10. Seven chi eight cun: based on these measures as of Jin times, this would be somewhat more than six feet three inches. Presumably this was above average for his time and place.

11. Anqi Sheng is a legendary immortal associated with the island of Penglai. He is supposed to have lived more than a thousand years. The First Emperor of China, who was intensely interested in immortality, is said to have met Anqi on a journey east.

12. Grandfather Peng is supposed to have lived for eight hundred years. A manual on energy-induction exercises attributed to him can be found in the Baopuzi. See Daozang jiyao, vol. 20, p. 8686.

13. In Henan.

14. The Ming dynasty scholar Li Zhi recounts the story of Ji Kang’s murder in his Zangshu:

“Kang was poor and supported himself by working as a smith. In those days Zhong Hui, a friend of Sima Zhao, heard of Kang and went to visit him. Hui was a distinguished gentleman, esteemed for talent and ability, who rode on hefty horses and wore lightweight clothes, with a huge crowd of hangers-on. Kang kept working at his forge and didn’t pay attention. Hui was impressed with him.

“When Shan Tao was chosen to be a courtier, he nominated Kang instead. Kang wrote a letter refusing and cutting off contact, explaining that he personally could not stand current customs, not that he was slighting the example of sagacious kings of old. So when Sima Zhao heard of this, he hated Kang.

“Kang was on good terms with Lu Zhao and his younger brother An. An was smitten with Kang’s loftiness and would go to any lengths for him. Now, Lu Zhao had an illicit affair with An’s wife and then condemned An for disrespect and had him imprisoned. An called on Kang to testify for him. Kang’s sense of justice was not without appreciation, so he explained the matter.

“Like Kang, An was also very zealous in his will to save the world. Zhong Hui urged Lu Zhao to take this opportunity to get rid of him. So he killed An, and Kang too.”

15. Gu Kaizhi (345–406) was a poet, painter, and courtier.

[gaanqi]

hi all, i’m kon and i have no sense of time 🥴 i write for the lovely miss anqi beifong aka triplet no. 1! the a in her name means she’s first.... you can read about her here but a rough introduction will be available under the cut!

not the image of the quintessential eldest but Someone has to wear the big boy pants and that's her... hell yeah responsibilities

say the wrong thing to any one of her siblings and she will bury you in the earth #rip

if she's not at odds with them for whatever reason, she's definitely indulging her younger siblings 😳

idea of fun includes practicing her bending lmao but also enjoys power disc, window shopping (loves pretty accessories!) and tea among others

when necessary, the choice child to send out for socialising, especially for diplomatic reasons or whatever

not really her scene though there's some effort on her part because at least she understands where her parents are coming from!

definitely more affable than she seems; out here thinking about making "beneficial connections" but just ends up making friends

consequently pushed into attending una with her siblings but what can you do 🤷‍♀️ she likes the idea behind it though, very nice!

for the most part, quite easygoing and laidback until it's time to put her foot down. very rational, often the voice of reason much to her despair

dobs: poor girl fatigued due to poor sleep quality, constantly woke up because it was so hot/humid and was not in the right mind to process what was happening... just knew she had to check on her siblings since she's very one-track mind like that!

very annoyed with how things have unfolded, generally with the lack of caution and thought put into the plan? has some speculations about who might be behind the assassination but is too concerned about the well-being of other earth nation citizens to give much thought to it

edit: does it mean she’s helping to smuggle them out? yes

have no premade plots, brain empty but let's plot! i have a discord if you prefer that

[babiemochie]

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Although I have been on tumblr for years, I recently hit my one year as parksouthgate. And what a year it has been. I have had the joy of meeting a number of lovely people, and obtaining a few mutuals. It is only fair that I mention those that have made my year so memorable. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

messages and tags below the cut to save space ღ 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ special words⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

@minsbutt : alex !!! thank you so much for encouraging me to make moodboards and edits. without you I’m sure my posts would have a total of 2 notes, and I wouldn’t have this cute one year banner thing. I might not understand tumblr of photoshop, but without you I would be completely lost. uwu. 

@hwagaemkt : kate !!! it have enjoyed getting to know you, and being about to chat when we both have time. You always support the things I make, and you always find interesting posts to tag me in. I’m so glad to have you as a mutual, and a friend. thank you so much !!! 

@hobistigma : chey !!! my mutual, my soulmate. I am so glad that I have had the opportunity to get to know you and chat with you. You are lovely and you deserve the world. I hope you are well, and that you are taking care of yourself! I miss you, and I’m sending you all the love! 

@httpjibooty bunny !!! It has been lovely getting to know you, and have the opportunity to read the things you create. I hope you continue writing, and we have the chance to talk more in the future! 

@smol-joong anett !!! my first ateez mutual, I cannot thank you enough. I hope you are well, and that you are not too stressed. 

@7ersona anqie !!! It has been lovely getting to know you and see your encouraging messages every once in a while. They really make my day! I’ll try to be better about responding. But I hope you are well, and that school isn’t too stressful for you. 

@devildevlin1 marcy !!! thank you for supporting all of the things I create, whether that is a decent moodboard, or an absolutely sh**post. you are lovely and wonderful, and I’m so glad you have found your way to creating your own aesthetic here on tumblr. I can’t wait to see what you do next 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ mutuals ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

@taemines @dearmingki @namjoonieftw @la-vie-en-tae @lilhwahwa @guktwt @yoonqiful @hyejiseul @jooniepatootie @mochiofkimchi @allthebrighteststars @wooshins @zzzett @wonholine @wngkunhang @amazarashiz @roseyjongdae @yxrik @byunayeon @hyukohinwoo @skzmxtp @jkjmemory @kimlinecafe​ @taenites​ @nyamvember​ @greenlightintheharbor​ @queenappleandme​ 

I might have missed one or two, but just know that I deeply appreciate all of you. You make tumblr a more enjoyable place! ღ 

[ericvick]

Don’t contribute to your 2020 IRA until you read this

Don’t click that mouse.

Before you plunge your $6,000 annual limit into a “Roth” individual retirement account for 2020, stop for a second and look at some fresh data out of Boston College.

New research from the BC Center for Retirement Research finds that most of us don’t pay much in income tax once we’re retired. For at least 80% of the population the amounts are peanuts.

And that suggests that for most of us the “traditional” IRA is probably going to work out a better deal than the Roth option.

The IRS lets each of us save up to $6,000 a year in a tax-sheltered individual retirement account (there are, as always with the IRS, some mind-numbing little complications and caveats). If I choose a traditional IRA, I get a tax saving right away: For federal and state purposes, my taxable income this year is reduced by the amount of my contribution. Alas, when I withdraw the money in my golden years, it will count as taxable income, and I’ll pay taxes on it then.

Roth IRAs, created by Congress in 1997 and named after Delaware senator William Roth, their champion, work the other way around. The money I deposit has already been taxed, so I get no tax break on my contributions today. But when I withdraw it there is no tax to pay.

So, do you want to pay taxes now, or later?

It’s a long-running debate, and when I Google “Roth or Traditional IRA” I get about 5.6 million results, most headlined something like “Roth IRA or Traditional: Which Is Right For You?”, and giving you a list of pros and cons.

Interestingly, even though Roth IRAs get a lot of airtime in the media and lots of support from financial planners, they aren’t as popular as you might imagine. According to IRS data, at the end of 2017 there were more than twice as many traditional IRAs as Roths, and they held about nine times as much money: $8 trillion in total, compared with $841 billion in Roths.

The public may be on to something. While there are other issues involved in choosing between the two accounts, the core issue is whether you’re better off taking your tax break now or when you’re retired.

Enter Boston College.

Four-fifths of households in retirement will pay an effective tax rate of 0%, or nearly zero, write Boston College researchers Anqi Chen and Alicia Munnell (the director of the Center for Retirement Research, and a MarketWatch contributor) in a new paper. That includes federal and state income taxes.

Only those in the top fifth of retired households by income pay significant taxes, and even then the average rate for that group is only 11.3%, they calculate.

In the top 1% by income the average is 22.7%, they add.

“Regardless of the drawdown strategy, households in the bottom three [income] quintiles most likely pay zero taxes in retirement,” write Chen and Munnell. “This percentage rises to only 2 to 3 percent for the fourth quintile. In terms of financial security in retirement, this finding is good news—most households are not dramatically underestimating their retirement resources by not considering taxes.”

Their findings are based on an analysis of data in the University of Michigan’s long-running Health and Retirement Survey.

There are good reasons why tax rates are generally low in retirement. Social Security is only partly taxable, and only above certain income thresholds. For many in retirement, their biggest asset is beautifully tax sheltered: Their home. The IRS does not — yet—consider it taxable “imputed rent” that you live there.

Most people in retirement don’t have that money. The median household in the survey (actually, the mean of the middle quintile, if you really want to get technical) was living on Social Security and other pension income of around $42,000 a year, and a total of about $186,000 in other savings including retirement plans, the researchers calculate.

The average household in the bottom 20% was living on $13,500 in Social Security and pensions and had $50,000 in savings.

Are you paying more than 2% in taxes while you work? How about 11%? For those in the “top 1%” of earners, even a tax rate of 23% must look pretty good.

There are other factors at play, to be sure. (For instance the technicalities of Roths can be favorable in some circumstances.) But on tax rates these numbers seem to point pretty strongly toward the traditional IRA.

[peashooter85]

The First Emperor of China and the Giant Sea Monster,

Qin Shi Huangdi is famous for being the first Emperor of a unified China.  While Emperor he created a common writing system, system of currency, an imperial bureaucracy based on merit, a codified system of laws, and a unified Chinese Empire.  He is also famous for expending much blood and treasure on the Great Wall of China as well as building a massive elaborate tomb complex complete with 8,000 terracotta warriors.

Another thing Qin Shi Huangdi is famous for was his quest for the elixir of life, a potion or concoction that could magically grant him immortality.  Qin Shi Huagdi commissioned hundreds of alchemists and mystics to create the elixir.  Many of the elixirs the Emperor favored contained mercury as a main ingredient.  A poisonous substance, mercury is now known to cause degenerative effects on the nervous system and madness. After many years of drinking dubious elixirs, potions, and concoctions, the first Emperor of China was beginning to lose grip on reality.

His alchemists never were able to find the right concoction, and the Emperor, growing more desperate and mentally unstable, order the execution of those who failed to provide him with a working elixir of life.  One day the Emperor commissioned an expedition of several ships crewed by 6,000 virgins to find the elixir of life.  The expedition was led by Xu Fu, the court sorcerer of the Emperor.  According to the Emperor Xu Fu was to find the mystical land of Penglai Island, where a 1,000 year old sorcerer named Anqi Sheng lived, a man who knew the secret of the elixir of life.  According to the Emperor he had once met Anqi Sheng who had invited him to the island.  Anqi Sheng promised the Emperor the elixir of life if he would bring him 6,000 virgins.

Xu Fu and his crew knew that the story told by the Emperor was nonsense, but they had to return with something or they would all surely be executed.  What Xu Fu came up with was an excuse, an excuse that took advantage of the Emperor’s failing mental health.  After a short sail, Xu Fu reported to the Emperor that the fleet was unable to sail to Penglai Island due to a large sea monster that patrolled the coast, preventing the fleet from sailing beyond coastal waters.  The Emperor believed the story, but not willing to let monster get in his way, he assembled a team of archers and a warship.

With Xu Fu, his eunuchs, and courtiers, Qin Shi Huangdi sailed the coast, his archers firing randomly at every disturbance of the water. The Emperor declared that he had killed the monster, it was quite apparent that Xu Fu’s plan had backfired.  He was once again ordered to set sail with his expedition and find Penglai Island.  This time the expedition never returned, instead opting to settle in Japan rather than return home to certain death.

Qin Shi Huangdi’s search for the elixir of life would be fruitless.  For the remainder of his life the Emperor continued to ingest harmful potions in hopes of gaining immortality.  He died in 210 BC after ingesting a number of pills containing mercury.

[archonanqi]

consequence / pt ii

⛔️ Warning: Please read the tags and warnings on the info page and proceed with caution.

🔖 [first] [prev] [next]

—

pt. ii of iii

The sky was still dark when you woke with a splitting headache. You blinked the sleep from your eyelids, eyes adjusting to the shadowy silhouettes of furniture around you. This was— one of Wangshu Inn’s rooms? You checked yourself for wounds and fractures; there was a scrape on your knee, but it had been properly dressed and bandaged.

Zhongli.

You had to get Aether and get out. You would have taken any punishment from Zhongli for breaking the contract but Aether— it was clear that Zhongli knew he could get to you through him. Your brother was in danger, too.

Stumbling to the door, you threw it open to meet the stunning Liyue night view. At the altitude of Wangshu Inn, the air was always cold and crisp, and you took a deep breath as you stepped out of the room to come face to face with a pair of familiar, bright yellow eyes. 

“Xiao?” The relief you felt was immense. No matter the danger, you’d always been able to depend on the Vigilant Yaksha to back you up in battle. “I’m so glad to see you. You won’t believe this—“

Once you took a better look at Xiao’s face, you trailed off. There was no surprise in his gaze. You had not found him by a stroke of luck; he was here to stop you from leaving.

“I know of your contract with Rex Lapis.” How long had it been since he had last spoken to you in that tone of disdain? “I have helped him uphold countless in the past few millennia. Even you are no exception.” 

“Xiao, I didn’t even know what the contract meant,” you pleaded, hope soaring at the flicker in his eyes. “Please, let me leave.”

The Yaksha swallowed visibly, brows knitting together. “No,” he finally said. “Go back to your room. I don’t want to have to fight you while you’re in... this state.”

“You’d fight me here?” You said, for the second time that night. “The civilians—” As you turned to gesture at the staff of Wangshu Inn, you realized that despite the commotion, not one of them was looking in your direction.

“The staff of Wangshu Inn are prepared, as am I,” Xiao said, without so much as glancing in their direction, “to carry out the will of our lord.”

Ah. You were alone here. But still, you stood firm, and watched the resignation dawn in Xiao’s eyes. You had not backed down when Chef Mao told you they were out of Almond Tofu, during your dinner with Xiao three months ago. You had not backed down when three Abyss Mages had you cornered in Lingju Pass; and even as Xiao had slaughtered them, you’d tried to get one last swing in with a tree branch. You would not back down now, and Xiao knew it as well as you did.

“I wish it didn’t come to this,” Xiao said, and you believed him wholly. 

He clasped his hand to his face, and when it came away, he was wearing his mask. You supposed that you should feel a little flattered that he thought he had to don his Yaksha mask to fight you, hungover as you were. But before that, you felt worry. You knew full well what the mask did to him, had seen your fair share of aftermaths after a battle had dragged too long. 

“Xiao, don’t hurt yourself,” you whispered.

In his eyes, behind the teal glow of his veil, you saw just a flicker of hesitation. But not enough.

Just as you shifted into a defensive stance — the way Xiao had taught you to do during your sparring sessions — there was a movement behind you. The Yaksha looked up over your shoulder, and immediately bowed his head, his mask fading away as quickly as it had come. You turned, even though you already knew what you’d see: Zhongli, pristine and immaculate as ever, his coat carried gently in the wind. 

Disappointment in Zhongli’s gaze had always been hard to stomach, but today, it felt like the weight of the world on your lungs. “So she did try to escape, then, before even granting me an audience?” The former Archon asked, every word chilling you to your core. “Thank you for your service, Xiao. You may go now.” 

Xiao lifted his head, turning to go wordlessly. Before he disappeared down the stairs, he paused. “What are you going to do to her?”

Zhongli regarded him with a lidded glance. “Only what must be done.”

—  

After Xiao’s leave, Zhongli turned to you. 

“Do you understand now?” He asked, flicking his hand back in the same slow gesture as he always did when he was telling a long story. You remembered how much you adored listening to the tales of the Archon War. Stories of those he conquered, brought to life through his deep, rich voice. You never thought you’d be among them, one day. “Six thousand years is a long time, even for those who live forever. I know every crack, cave and crevice, every clan, bloodline and family in Liyue. There is no place for you to run.”

You knew what he left unspoken. You had been a part of Liyue for what, one, two years? He had raised it from the earth. Despite all his talk of friendship, you would find no allies here who would, when faced with the choice, defy their archaic lord for you. 

Xiao’s betrayal still stung, but in light of the weight of Zhongli’s presence before you, it was all but inconsequential, and wholly unsurprising. The slight shiver that ran down your spine, this time, was not because of the cold night air. 

“What did you do to Aether?” is the first thing you managed to say.

“Your brother is safe.” Zhongli assured you. “I’ve had him sent to Bubu Pharmacy for treatment, and Paimon is looking after him.” 

The relief you felt was uneasy. Safe— for now, at least. 

“Where is he?”

“A location that I have secured, personally. You may see him when we are done here.” Zhongli answered seamlessly. You did not miss the threat that was left unspoken. “Though, he is not the one you ought to be worrying about, right now.”

An amicable departure from Teyvat was but a dream at this point; but maybe if you swallowed your anger, you could get him to leave you alone. Of all the farewells you had imagined, this wasn’t one you hadn’t even imagined would come to pass.

“That was it, right?” You joked weakly, even the pretense of cordiality almost too difficult to maintain, “the Wrath of the Rock? I mean, you literally knocked me out.” 

Zhongli studied you carefully, before opening his mouth. “What do you think?” He asked. “ Was that a punishment fitting enough for one who reneged against the God of Contracts?”

“I— I,” You stammered for a little, but stopped once you realized it was futile. Zhongli would exact what punishment he deemed you deserved, and no force in Teyvat could possibly hope to stop him. Defeated, you exhaled deeply. “Would it help my case if I said ‘yes’?”

“No,” Zhongli answered, without hesitation. “Not in the slightest.” There was nothing left of the Zhongli you knew — thought you’d known — in his stone-cold expression.

A festering fear had settled deep within your stomach, rancid and heavy.  How arrogant you had been, to think that you could thoroughly understand a being that had lived longer than recorded history, longer than human civilization in some worlds — could you even grasp the very notion of living six thousand years, of spending four thousand fighting a war? The countless bygone friends and foes he must have had to cut down? 

How foolish of you to think that you could have outweighed any of them. 

“What will it take to keep Aether safe?” You said, dropping your smile. If Zhongli would not budge when faced with the lingering remnants of your friendship, then you would speak to him the only way you knew how to get through to him; with a contract. “I’ll willingly accept any punishment, without a fight, as long as you promise to let him and Paimon go safely afterwards.”

Would Zhongli really… kill you? Even knowing all that you knew of his brutality during the war, it was hard to wrap your head around. You couldn’t breathe.

“Any…?” Zhongli’s huff created a small cloud of condensation in the night air. “It seems I have not taught you enough about the art of negotiation during our journey together. An open contract is a very dangerous thing to place in the hands of your adversaries.“ 

“I don’t care,” you snapped. Any other time, and you would have loved to hear him lecture, but...“Just tell me you won’t hurt them.” 

Zhongli closed his eyes once more, as he always did when presented with a contractual proposal to ponder. Finally, when he had been still so long you’d thought he might have fallen asleep, he crossed his arms. “Very well. I accept the terms of your contract.” 

At least, no matter what happened to you, Aether and Paimon would be safe. 

“Come, y/n,” Zhongli beckoned with two gloved fingers, “let us continue somewhere more private.” He turned around and began walking, as though he had not a doubt that you would follow him. Well, with the terms that he had over your head, did you really have a choice? 

You had been to Wangshu Inn so many times — to complete commissions, to grab a quick lunch, to bring Almond Tofu for Xiao — that you knew the land around it like the back of your hand. It would be so easy to escape on your own; you’d make it to Mondstadt within the night. Determined as Zhongli was, the idea of a diplomatic fallout with Liyue’s neighboring nation would at least make him take pause in his pursuit of you. Right?

Freedom was within your grasp. Behind you, the crickets chirped their hymns into a star-flecked sky. 

You owe me big time, dear brother , you thought bitterly to yourself as you followed Zhongli back into his room.

[onlinepinsite-blog]

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[archonanqi]

some alternative vision reveals for fragile as dust + bonus zhongliregret.png