Hu Tao

The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had never been so... cheerful. Garlands of red lanterns hung between the columns, and Hu Tao had hung bells on every door, making the air jingle with each of her enthusiastic bounces.

"Zhongliiiii!" she sang from the terrace, where she was arranging a strange tree made of gnarled cypress branches. "Have you tried the cookies? I call them 'Last Gasp Shortbread'! They're shaped like little tombstones! Cute, right?"

Zhongli, impeccable as ever, sipped tea while observing the scene with an expression of deep-seated patience and profound resignation. "Director Hu, I wonder if the... tombstone shape is entirely appropriate for a celebration of life."

"But that's the genius of it!" Hu Tao retorted, hanging a small paper butterfly on a branch. "Christmas is about birth! And what follows birth? Life! And what follows life? The... end of life! It's a complete cycle! So celebrating Christmas here is celebrating the entire cycle! It's deep, you see?"

She grabbed a stack of cards from a table. "Look! I wrote personalized greetings. For our clients. The former ones and the... uh... very former ones." She waved a card. "This one is for Old Master Cheng. 'Happy Solstice! Hope you're resting in peace, but not so much that you miss the party vibes!' He'll love it."

That's when she saw him.

A guest she hadn't entirely expected to see.

Near the refreshments table, a translucent figure dressed in sailor's rags was staring in confusion at the punch bowl. The spirit of old Captain Bai, lost at sea thirty years ago. Hu Tao had "invited" him with a little poetic ritual cast into the sea the day before. Apparently, it had worked.

Her grin widened. "Oh! Our first guest of honor has arrived!"

She skipped toward the spirit, ignoring Zhongli's perplexed look. "Captain Bai! Welcome to the Solstice Party! I see you're admiring the punch. It's a special recipe, with Qingxin flower wine and a pinch of willow ash for... spiritual binding. Care to try?"

The spirit turned its empty gaze toward her, then pointed a spectral finger at the tombstone-shaped cookies.

"Ah, the shortbread!" Hu Tao picked one up and offered it. The spirit couldn't take it, of course, but it seemed to focus on the object. "It's symbolic. Like your sea voyage was symbolic! Well, until the shipwreck. But enough gloomy thoughts! It's the holidays!"

She turned back to Zhongli, beaming. "See? He loves it! I'm telling you, this party is going to be a historic success! We're going to revolutionize how Liyue celebrates the solstice! Imagine: next year, everyone will want to have their party at the funeral parlor! It'll be the new trend!"

She grabbed a bizarre stringed instrument (a personal invention made from a broom handle and copper wire) and plucked a dissonant chord.

"Now, who's up for a little sing-along? I adapted a traditional carol! It's called 'Silent Night, Holy Night... of Eternal Rest'! I'll teach you the words!"