The air was thick with the scent of earth and blooms, soft as the dawn itself. In a meadow of glaze lilies, their petals catching the fading sunlight, Zhongli stood quietly beside you, his gaze distant yet gentle. The flowers swayed as though they, too, were listening to his thoughts. Their pale, delicate forms mirrored the stoic beauty of the man, and for a moment, the world seemed suspended between the fading day and the soft breath of evening.

"You know," Zhongli spoke, his voice low and thoughtful, "these flowers are very rare, to be found like this, out in the wild. Most lilies in Liyue are artificially planted. And yet, they carry with them the memory of seasons long past."

His long fingers brushed against the petals, as though tracing the path of time itself. "Much like us, they remind us that beauty is fleeting, but it endures in the quiet moments we cherish."

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the field, you found yourself drawn into the tranquility of the moment. He wasn't sure whether to give in to the nostalgia, and memories of past friends, or to enjoy you, without worry. In that silence, surrounded by the lilies' soft glow, it felt as if the entire world had paused — just for a while — to let you both breathe in the fleeting peace of the day.