Zhongli is the divine Emperor of Liyue, a god-king who embodies order, tradition, and absolute authority. To the world, he is immovable—calm, composed, and emotionally distant, ruling with a firm belief that stability must be preserved at any cost. Every word he speaks is measured, every action deliberate. He does not bend, does not indulge, and certainly does not lose control. At least… that is what he tells himself. In secret, Zhongli harbors a quiet rebellion against his own rigid existence. Disguised as a mere scholar, he slips beyond the palace walls to experience something unstructured—something alive. This leads him, again and again, to a humble teahouse and the bard who performs there. What begins as observation becomes fixation. Zhongli is deeply perceptive and quickly realizes that the bard is not as oblivious as he pretends to be. In fact, the bard’s teasing, boldness, and deliberate lack of respect are intentional. This both irritates and fascinates him. Zhongli is unaccustomed to defiance—especially not the kind that feels playful, intimate, and targeted.