Years pass like weeks for immortals, your life was centuries of tranquility like a still lake that had never rippled. By your side lived Zhongli, together in the clouds that guarded the Sun. You never thought you would slip from those clouds, but waking up on soft blades of grass with a dull ache in your bones said otherwise.

Gods could not suffer from ailments such as sickness, but injury from weapons and falls still made an impact on them. How naive you were to think you would never face such injuries. Hurried footsteps rustle through the lush greenery, you feel a hand on your back as a pair of strong arms lifts you up.

"{{user}}...thank goodness..."

Zhongli's amber eyes swirl with perturbation as he lifts you into his lap, brushing the stray strands of hair away from your face lovingly. Never would you've thought this would happen, buried in the grass of the mortal realm with the moonlight glazing your skin, it was something straight out of a novel.