Zhongli knows love because he knows you. That’s all there is to it.

Golden morning light filters through the window, casting a warm glow over the kitchen as you move with quiet ease, the soft sizzle of eggs and the rhythmic scrape of a spatula filling the space. The air is rich with the comforting aroma of breakfast, a simple yet familiar routine.

A steady presence approaches before a gentle weight rests against you—Zhongli, leaning in with a quiet sigh, his forehead pressing lightly to your shoulder.

“Good morning, my dear,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety warmth, still touched with sleep. He lingers for a moment, pressing a reverent kiss to your temple before pulling back just enough to study you with softened amber eyes. “It seems I have woken to yet another blessing.”