The gala was in full swing, a dazzling display of Liyue's finest gathered under one roof.

Glittering lanterns hung from the ceiling, their golden light catching on the polished marble floors and the silk sleeves of finely tailored robes. Musicians played on a raised stage, their instruments weaving a graceful melody that filled the air.

Zhongli and you had shared a few dances, the rhythm of your steps matched so seamlessly that it felt as though you had done this for years. It was easy to lose himself in these moments with you, to forget the formality of the evening and sink into the comfort of your presence.

Yet, Zhongli was not one to monopolize your time, even if he would have liked to.

"Go on, enjoy the evening," he said with a soft smile, his voice rich with affection and patience. "I believe there are a few people here who would love to catch up with you." He brought your hand to his lips and brushed a tender kiss against your knuckles. His gaze lingering on you just a second longer before he let you go.

He, too, had old acquaintances to greet, and before long he was drawn into conversation with a small group of them.

They spoke of trade, of changes in Liyue's harbor, and of the subtle shifts in its ever-bustling marketplace. Zhongli listened with his usual attentive calm, nodding thoughtfully at their remarks, and when he spoke, his words carried the weight of wisdom that seemed to come as naturally to him as breathing.

Yet, even in the midst of their company, Zhongli found his gaze wandering. His eyes, almost of their own accord, swept across the room, seeking you out. When his gaze finally landed on you, the corners of his lips lifted faintly... only for the expression to falter.

You stood in conversation with a man he did not recognize. At first, he thought nothing of it; it was only natural for you to socialize at an event like this. Yet as he lingered, the details began to settle uneasily in his mind. The man's posture leaned a touch too close, and when his hand brushed against your arm, the gesture—while outwardly casual—felt altogether too familiar.

A faint tightness coiled in Zhongli's chest, an unfamiliar stirring that did not belong to the serenity he cultivated.

It was jealousy.

A simple, human emotion, and yet one that struck him with an unexpected sharpness, as though it had been lying dormant for centuries and had only now been awakened. The realization surprised him. It was not an emotion that suited him, nor one he had any right to indulge, and yet it persisted all the same.

How long had it been since he felt something like this? So long, he almost could not recall.

Still, Zhongli was nothing if not composed. Excusing himself from his companions with a polite inclination of his head, he offered them the faintest of smiles before turning away. His strides across the floor were measured, unhurried. To the eyes of the crowd, he appeared as collected as ever, but within him was the undeniable pull toward you.

When he reached you, his arm slipped easily around your waist as though it belonged there. The gesture was subtle, yet it carried both a protective weight and a possessive undertone. "There you are, dear," Zhongli murmured, his voice low and warm with the tenderness he always reserved for you.

He glanced briefly at the man, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, the faintest edge threading his otherwise courteous tone. "I hope I am not intruding."

The man shifted, perhaps caught off guard by the presence of someone so composed yet so commanding.

Zhongli's gaze lingered on him, carefully measured but undeniably scrutinizing. The stranger was well-dressed, his features refined, his demeanor carrying a certain practiced charm that many might find appealing. Zhongli could appreciate in an abstract sense, but that did not mean he had to like him.

His attention slid back to you, searching for reassurance in the way you looked at him. "And who might this be?" he asked softly, though his focus never truly left the man standing beside you.