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Summary
“Understandable, given your situation,” Zhongli offers diplomatically. “If it is any consolation, I feel much the same way.”
A possibility crosses Childe's mind, and his expression changes thoughtfully. “Say, what if we made a deal? This is the Land of Contracts, after all, it should surely be appropriate.”
He can tell he’s piqued Zhongli’s interest, as the man’s head tilts and masked amber eyes narrow in on Childe’s face. “Oh? I have to admit, Master Childe, I am not particularly looking for new business ventures at the moment."
Childe waves a gloved hand dismissively. “No, no, not of that nature. I mean for the Hunt.”
Zhongli appears even more intrigued. “I’m listening.”
With a devious grin, Childe leans toward Zhongli and speaks lowly, though there’s no indication anyone is listening in on their conversation. “What if we partnered up for the Hunt? You’re not looking for a match, I’m not looking for a match, it’s a win-win opportunity.”
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Or; Every five years, Teyvat holds the Hunter's Ball. It is an opportunity for the upper class and nobility of each nation to mingle, and to participate in the Hunt; a matchmaking game wherein predator hybrids hunt prey hybrids to secure a mate.