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Zhongli wakes slowly and comfortably. His head feels clear, his body well-rested, and he rolls over in bed to indulge himself for a little longer in his lover’s arms—but the space to his side is empty this morning, the indent in the mattress already cold. No matter. Ajax gets restless sometimes, and although the sun has hardly risen in the sky, it’s possible that he has already wandered off somewhere in the apartment, busying himself with cooking or cleaning or else working off his energy.
He checks the clock on their bedroom wall. 8:00am. He’s slept in a little, then. Still, he sees no reason to rush this morning. Given the holiday season, the funeral parlor is closed for the upcoming week, and he has no urgent affairs to attend to this morning. So, he pulls himself out of bed and does his perfunctory morning stretches for the next few minutes, mentally plotting out his schedule for the day while he does so. Breakfast with Ajax, then cleanup and some light reading for a few hours before noon, when they’re scheduled to call with Ajax’s family for New Year’s Eve. By now, even little Teucer is old enough to stay up late in Russia, where the rest of the family is visiting Ajax’s grandparents, and Zhongli would be remiss to prevent the brothers from seeing each other’s faces.
In the evening, they’ll be making the drive to Xiangling’s to help her prepare a celebratory dinner for the evening. Venti will be there too, as well as some of their other friends whom he hasn’t seen in some time, with everyone’s schedules busy as they are. They’re thinking of filming a collaboration video while everyone is together, but depending on how many plus ones each attendee has invited, Zhongli suspects the chaos may grow to the point that even Hu Tao would not be able to edit a watchable video out of it.
Stretches complete, he moves to the bathroom, where he takes his time showering and getting ready for the day. As he’ll be spending the day with friends and family, anything too formal would be inappropriate; still, he wishes to maintain a sense of propriety for Ajax’s family, and there is the possibility that he will be on camera in the evening. Accordingly, he picks out a pair of dark fitted slacks alongside a standard cream button-up, which he tops off with a warm brown sweater. Comfortable but elegant, just as he prefers. His hair goes into a half-updo, a touch of red eyeliner blooms beneath his lower lashlines, and then Zhongli steps out into the hallway in slippered feet, following his nose to the kitchen.
The fragrance of green tea permeates the apartment, along with an undercurrent of something sweeter. Ajax has been busy, it seems. The man in question is standing at the counter, still pajama-clad as he yawns into the back of his hand.
On the kitchen island at the center of the room lies Zhongli’s favorite tea set, laid out neatly on the shining marble. It’s one of his most precious belongings; aside from the beautiful gray-gold lacquer and the teapot’s superior laminar flow, it was gifted to him by a dear friend over a decade ago. Guizhong always knew his tastes so well. He has made his peace in the many years since her passing, so the sight of her treasured gift only makes him smile now. Especially because Ajax seems to have done him the courtesy of using it to brew him a batch of tea—longjing, if the mellow scent is any indication.
“Good morning,” says Zhongli, crossing the room to the tea set. Keeping one hand on the top of the teapot, he pours one cup for himself, then another for his lover.
Ajax raps his finger against the table absentmindedly in thanks on instinct, then turns around to deliver a stunning smile. “I figured you’d be out about now. Your morning routine is like clockwork.”
“Early morning is the golden time of day,” Zhongli replies. “And we have much to attend to later today.” He takes a sip of tea. Perfectly brewed, and at just the right temperature. Ajax has learned well. Zhongli delivers a kiss on the cheek to the redhead for his vicarious efforts, then leans his head comfortably on the junction between head and shoulder. “What have you busied yourself with this morning?”
Grinning, his boyfriend inclines his head at a series of bowls laid out on the countertop before him. “I know the winter solstice was earlier this month and we had some then too, but you told me before that tangyuan represent unity, right? And today is a special day, so I figured it might be nice to surprise you with some in the morning for breakfast.”
He laughs sheepishly. “Well, tried to surprise you, at least. I got caught up in brewing the tea and didn’t get all the way through preparing them before you got up. I don’t have as much experience as you, haha!”
Zhongli surveys the countertop. There are the raw ingredients he expects to see: glutinous rice flour, black sesame powder, and a series of plastic containers from the freezer that he recognizes as Xiangling’s latest culinary endeavors, her new trial recipes for lotus paste and red bean paste. It looks like Ajax has already successfully assembled the black sesame filling and defrosted Xiangling’s offerings, which now sit in their own bowls. Based on the flecks of white flour all over Ajax’s front and his sticky hands, he must be in the midst of assembling the dough.
“To the contrary, it looks like you have it under control,” Zhongli says. Removing his head from his boyfriend’s shoulders, he rolls up his sleeves and moves to the cabinet. “I will prepare the soup for serving.”
Ajax smacks his forehead with the back of one floury hand. “I knew I was forgetting something! Ah, what would I do without you, xiansheng?”
Zhongli doesn’t reply, already lost in thought as he sorts through assorted tins and packages in their cabinet. Goji berries would provide a boost in flavor and nutrition as well as a spot of visual contrast, he ponders, but what about dried dates? No, he thinks, they will be adding rock sugar and rice wine as well, so the extra sweetness will be unnecessary.
He busies himself with filling a pot of water and setting it on the stovetop to boil. Meanwhile, Ajax starts singing a song to himself—probably something he’s played at home before, it sounds familiar—as he tests the consistency of the glutinous rice flour and water mixture. Satisfied, he starts to roll the dough into small balls, then flattens each one into a disk. He claims to have a modest amount of experience, but his hands work with confidence to spoon a dollop of sesame, lotus, or red bean into the center of each disk. At last, he folds the sides over into the center to enclose the filling within a shell of dough. The finished product is rolled between his hands one more time to round out the sphere again.
“It’s not really so different from making pelmeni,” Ajax says by way of explanation, following Zhongli’s line of sight to his hands. “I’ve helped my parents and my grandmother with it a thousand times, so I could probably do it in my sleep by now.” He plops down a series of tangyuan in rapid succession until the countertop is dotted with them and the water is boiling.
Zhongli drops in a handful of his assembled ingredients and waits until they settle to start lowering in the tangyuan, close to the water’s surface to avoid splashing the boiling water. Each one sinks to the bottom as Ajax starts belting the chorus to whatever he’s singing (Britney Spears, it sounds like) with enthusiasm. After all the tangyuan are added, Zhongli goes to the fridge to retrieve their jar of sweet rice wine, spooning out a suitable amount and filling the room with the tart, cloying smell.
Mission completed, Ajax joins him in leaning against the kitchen island as they wait for the tangyuan to finish cooking. They don’t say much, just press against each other’s sides while enjoying the warm morning atmosphere. Zhongli tops off tea for both of them, and then the round white spheres are rising up in the soup and bobbing at the surface, signaling their completion. His boyfriend offers him bowls and a large spoon, and he carefully ladles out servings of the finished tangyuan and soup for both of them. Finally, Ajax retrieves the glass jar from their pantry and garnishes their bowls with a sprinkle of dried osmanthus flowers.
The whole affair smells divine. They take their time enjoying it right there in the kitchen, still leaning on each other even as they sit down side-by-side at the countertop.
“Happy birthday, Zhongli-xiansheng,” Ajax says, and he sounds so shy when he talks, like he cannot believe what has been given to him.
It's a flattering sentiment, but. Zhongli blinks. Puts down his spoon. Thinks about how yesterday was December 30th, and tomorrow is January 1st, and all their friends will be having a party for New Year’s Eve tonight.
“Ah, so I suppose it is,” he murmurs, head shooting upward in bewilderment at Ajax’s sudden boisterous laughter. “Hmm?”
“I—you—did you forget?”
Zhongli frowns. “I would not say I forgot. Perhaps that it simply slipped my mind. We have been busy as of late, as you know.”
He picks up his spoon again and bites into another tangyuan—red bean paste. Xiangling must have used a different variety of bean than she usually prefers for this batch; the flavor is slightly more bittersweet than usual. “Besides, I am not in the habit of conducting any excessive celebrations. Aging is simply a natural part of life. I see no reason to treat my day of birth any differently.”
“Aww, but that’s no fun,” Ajax chides. “This is supposed to be my designated day for spoiling you!”
“You do that every day regardless.” Zhongli takes a long sip of tea in attempt to smother the smile that slowly creeps across his face. “And I am most grateful. For breakfast this morning, especially. Your skill at preparing traditional dishes has increased exponentially, as has your knowledge of the occasions on which to practice them. This was more than enough for me, Ajax. Thank you for cherishing me so.”
Beaming, the redhead holds up one hand, wagging his finger. “Now, hold on a minute. That’s not all. I got you a gift too, of course.”
He pulls a box out of his pajama pants and presents it to Zhongli. It’s small and rectangular, a modest black that reveals nothing of its contents. Opening it reveals a single earring laying on a bed of pale silk: an inky-black triangle followed by a gleaming amber bead, with a thin white tassel dangling at the end.
Zhongli takes it out of the box and holds it up reverently. As expected of his lover, Ajax has spared no expense. The quality of the stones is exquisite, and the construction seems both at once simple and delicate. It suits his tastes perfectly, and matches his wardrobe, to boot.
“Venti helped me pick it out,” Ajax admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Not gonna lie, I think he was hoping when I called him that I would be asking for help with a ring instead. That’s a little further down the line, though, I think.” He flushes red at the implication immediately.
Clearing his throat, he indicates the jewelry hanging from his own left ear. The gold chain and characteristic red gem shine brightly, catching the light now streaming through their windows. “I noticed that your ear was pierced when we first met, but you only ever seemed to wear studs—so, uh, I thought it would be nice to match.”
“It’s a very thoughtful gift, Ajax,” Zhongli says sincerely. He leans over to press a kiss, sweet and chaste, to his partner’s mouth, and when he pulls away they’re both smiling against each other’s lips. “I love it.”
Ajax helps him remove his old earring and switch in the new one, and then they clear away the dishes from the morning. Zhongli spends the time in a bit of a giddy daze. He knows that his boyfriend loves him, of course; Ajax is a very affectionate man, and even both of their collective viewerships had some idea of their involvement before they officially made the announcement that they were moving in together. He doesn’t hesitate to declare his feelings to people in his life, and he doesn’t mind doing so in front of the whole world (or the whole internet) either.
Still, it’s lovely to have physical proof of the thing, something tangible to carry with him throughout the days as he goes about his business. While Ajax goes to change out of his flour-covered pajamas and take his own shower, he spends the time reading in the living room, fingers brushing idly over the soft silk tassel of the earring from time to time.
After about a half hour, the Harbinger joins him on the couch, hair wet and smelling like cologne. He’s dressed in a similar level of formality to Zhongli in a dark red button-up (both top and bottom buttons left strategically open, of course, because it’s Ajax) and gray slacks, and he settles in contentedly at the older man’s side, tapping away on his phone. Something social media-related, no doubt. Compared to other managers in the industry, the Tsaritsa is relatively lenient when it comes to policies on content creation and online activity levels, but Childe is quite a famous streamer, and it still takes time and energy to maintain his internet presence.
In the time that it takes him to finish his book, an informative volume on the care of reptile he’s checked out from the library at Ganyu’s recommendation, Ajax has stretched himself out more and more until he’s essentially laying in Zhongli’s lap. This renders him effectively immobile unless he wants to disturb the other man, so he places the book down on the side table resignedly and cards his fingers through still-drying red hair until it’s almost noon.
At long last, Ajax hauls his weight away, and they re-settle in equally upright positions on the couch after he leaves and returns with Zhongli’s trusty old laptop. Of course, they could always call Ajax’s family in his home office, using his fancy gaming PC and the nice webcam and microphone he streams with, but Ajax prefers to keep his work and family life separate. The laptop has a greater screen area than either of their phones, and it’s perfectly adequate for the function of contacting family.
The Skype call barely rings twice before Teucer is picking up. It looks like he’s on his phone, if the shaky excitement of the camera’s motion is any indication. The young freckled face on the other side of the screen bursts into a huge grin as soon as he catches sight of his big brother, and only widens when he sees that Zhongli is there too. There’s the heavy sound of footfalls and a blur of motion, and then Teucer is running the camera to the living room, where it seems the rest of the family has been waiting.
They spend a teary and excitable few hours catching up—Ajax calls his parents and younger siblings fairly regularly, but the technological barrier as well as the time difference makes it harder to get in contact with his grandparents, who are hosting the rest of his family in Morepesok for the holidays this year. Zhongli has never met them in person before, and has only spoken to them over the phone once or twice leading up to this point. They’re elated to see Ajax’s serious new boyfriend, and seem pleased at the state of their shared home when he walks them around to give them a short tour of the apartment.
He can see the family resemblance in all of their faces: Teucer has Ajax’s eyes, while his grandmother has given him his straight nose and his father that characteristic sharp jawline. Even as he traces his eyes over the other man's face, Ajax starts blushing deeply at something his grandmother has said in Russian, stuttering out a hasty reply while eyeing Zhongli almost warily.
“My esteemed grandmother has invited you over to come visit them at home with me whenever we get the chance,” he says. Coughs into his fist once.
Teucer’s laughter echoes throughout the call. “You can’t just cut off there! Translate the rest, too!”
Ajax exhales deeply through his nose and looks away, refusing to make eye contact. Zhongli raises his eyebrows and does not say anything.
“She says that you’re much more handsome than my last boyfriend and she wishes that I could have your babies instead,” he mutters eventually. The blush on his cheeks is so intense that it hides the freckles on his face.
He can’t help the sudden laugh that bursts its way out of his chest. Ajax shoots him such a betrayed look that he tries to smother it behind the back of his hand, but the more he tries to hide it, the funnier he gets, and soon he’s shaking with silent giggles while Ajax’s grandmother looks on fondly through the screen.
Another woman’s voice, sharp and fast, comes through on the other side. Ajax doesn’t even bother replying this time, just wails and collapses forward, pressing his face into Zhongli’s lap.
Teucer chimes in again, this time to translate. “Mama disagrees. She still thinks that Scaramouche was a better fit, but since it’s your birthday today, she’ll give you a pass.” There is a loud sound of smacking, another rapid-fire exchange in Russian, and then his face appears in-frame again. “She says we have to go now since it’s getting late, and also that that wasn’t what she actually said.”
He lowers his voice conspiratorially, leaning in closer to the camera. His blue eyes are nothing but solemn. “I know it’s what she meant though. Sorry, Mr. Zhongli.”
“No offense taken,” Zhongli replies easily. He hasn’t stopped smiling in the past ten minutes, and his stomach is starting to ache from laughter. “Please, tell your mother and grandmother that I have nothing but the utmost respect for their judgment, and I will do my best to look after Ajax regardless.”
Teucer makes a tch sound, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling too. “I’ll tell them, but Mama will say you’re being a suckup. She really liked Scaramouche.”
Ajax rouses himself from his grave amongst the couch cushions for long enough to cast Teucer an expression of despair. “I have no idea why. There’s a reason why he and I broke up, and it’s that he’s insufferable.”
“Then you were a perfect match for each other!” another voice chimes in from the background.
A hand comes in from the background to meet Teucer’s in a perfect high-five, and then Tonia’s grinning face is taking up the screen as she settles next to her grandmother. “Sorry, it’s really been fun, but we do have to leave now for real. We’re planning to drive into town to see the fireworks, and we’d better leave soon if we want good seats.”
“Someone made us late last year so we had to squeeze in right by the street and Anton almost got hit by a bike passing by,” Teucer says, rolling his eyes pointedly.
His sister elbows him in the ribs, then dodges the incoming smack with practiced aim. “Goodbye, Ajax! Happy birthday again, Mr. Zhongli! Have a good party with your friends tonight!”
Upon hearing Tonia’s goodbyes, Anton takes it upon himself to pull the rest of the family back to Teucer’s phone for one last hurrah. The screen becomes a mess of red hair in motion, a dozen freckled faces laughing and waving farewell, and then Teucer finally takes pity on them and cuts off the incomprehensible combined sounds of shouted Russian and English by hanging up.
Ajax puts down the phone, looking utterly gratified and a bit dazed. After a second, he seems to come back to himself, leaning back into the couch and pulling at his already-loosened collar. “Ah…sorry about that, babe, they can be a bit overwhelming.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” Zhongli says, patting his boyfriend’s thigh gently. Ajax makes a contented sound and begins to merge into the fabric of the cushions. “To the contrary, it is a joy to spend time with your family, no matter how chaotic those interactions may be. It is clear that you all care for each other deeply.”
“Yeah, we’ve always been pretty tight-knit. I’m just grateful that us kids didn’t lose touch with each other after we all grew up and moved away from each other. Especially because all this,”—he gestures in the direction of the room containing his streaming setup— "means that I haven’t been able to spend as much time traveling. Even after my parents moved here, my grandparents never left, so it’s been a few years since I got to see them in person.”
Sighing, he tosses his head back up until he’s staring at the ceiling. With one hand, he reaches out for Zhongli’s, rubbing his thumb along the back of the other man’s palm in small concentric circles as he talks. “Last time I went was right before my professional career doing, y’know, YouTube and gaming and stuff for a living kicked off. Scaramouche went with me, and we actually decided to pursue the whole streaming esports thing for real on the flight back.”
“How has he been as of late?”
Ajax shrugs. “Same as always. Probably at home right now, grinding on the Harbingers server or getting into fights with idiots on Twitter. He’s not that close to his parents, kind of like you, so he never travels for the holidays. Actually, I think the last time he did any kind of formal celebration might have been when he and I were at my grandparents’ together.”
His head lolls to the side, just far enough that Zhongli can make out the mischievous glint in his eye. “Remind me later to tell you more about the time we were at my grandmother’s home for dinner. He mistook her dining room for a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and was completely baffled the whole meal.”
The anecdote is so unexpected that it catches Zhongli off-guard. He and Ajax have been completely transparent about both of their romantic histories, and he is on fine terms with his current partner’s ex-boyfriend. (As much as anyone can be on good terms with the sixth Harbinger, that is.) They are still in contact regularly, texting and video calling each other on the daily and streaming together at least a few times per month. Occasionally, though, he still finds himself blindsided by…well, stories like this.
“I…see. I am unsure whether to interpret this as extreme professionalism on your grandmother’s part, or a profound lack of situational awareness from Scaramouche.”
“Probably a bit of both. You can ask him yourself about what he was thinking when we go back to the Harbinger House tomorrow; from what I remember, he never realized what was going on until we had already left. And that was after she kissed both of us goodbye.”
Zhongli snorts a little unelegantly and withdraws his hand from Ajax’s grasp to check his watch. “Ah, Xiangling requested our presence at around 5:00 to begin preparing dinner and filming. Given the hour’s journey, it would be prudent for us to leave soon if we are to arrive on time.” He stands and stretches, reaching his hands far up above his head before smoothing his shirt back down. “Is there a certain time you will need to be back home by? Are you required for any official Harbinger business tonight?”
The redhead yawns, then joins Zhongli in rummaging around the living room, slowly assembling his belongings for the drive to Xiangling’s home-studio-kitchen. “Nope. I always take a break from streaming around this time of year to spend more time with family, so there’s nothing on my personal calendar. The Tsaritsa doesn’t arrange events during the holiday season either—viewership tends to go up since more people are at home, but she’s always been good about giving us space for our personal lives, so we don’t have any mandatory activities scheduled as a group.”
He ducks into the bathroom to touch up his hair and freshen his cologne, then returns back into the main hall with car keys in hand, just as Zhongli finishes checking that all the burners in the kitchen are shut off. “Rosie usually hosts her annual Lonely Hearts Club stream starting around 9:00 or 10:00 on New Year’s Eve, but I haven’t been allowed on since last year since, you know. No longer a lonely heart anymore.”
Ajax shoots him a sly smile as he tugs his shoes and a light jacket on, then holds the door open with a flourish. “After you.”
Tucking his phone into the pocket of his overcoat, Zhongli dips his head in thanks. He carries a reusable bag full of plastic containers for future leftovers (and there will be leftovers) in one hand, and reaches out for Ajax with the other.
The trip to Xiangling’s is blissfully uneventful. Ajax hooks his phone up to the car speakers, as usual, and selects Xinyan’s new album for the drive over. Although it’s New Year’s Eve, there’s barely anyone on the road at this time of day, so traffic is minimal, and Zhongli can relax and doze off slightly in the passenger seat as the shadows outside grow longer. By the time Ajax is shaking him awake, killing the engine as he pulls into the parking lot of Xiangling’s building, the sun looks like it’s beginning to set. The days are so short at this time of year, and the air outside is so cold he can see his breath when he exhales, but he feels nothing but warmth blossoming in his chest as they climb the steps up to their friend’s apartment and knock on her front door.
“Coming! Gimme just a second!”
The sound of running footsteps echoes from behind the door, and then they’re both face-to-face with an out-of-breath Xiangling. Her hair is up in its signature looped braids, and she’s dressed in an orange romper with one of her new branded aprons on top, already dusted with flour and what looks like a smear of oyster sauce, or possibly melted chocolate. It’s never possible to tell with her, which Zhongli is certain is part of her charm.
Still, despite the signs of rising disaster, she looks absolutely ecstatic to see them. Before either man can react, she’s yanking them both into the apartment, shutting the door rapidly behind them, and bullying their shoes and coats off with an insistence that would put Ajax’s grandmother to shame.
Behind her, Zhongli can just make out the main space of her kitchen studio, counters sagging under the weight of bags upon bags of ingredients and appliances gleaming on the walls. It’s hard to make out in the dark, though, and he frowns. He was under the impression that they would be filming tonight, or trying to, at least, and Xiangling is usually so conscientious about keeping her space clean and well-lit—
“SURPRISE!”
The lights come on, and Zhongli is greeted with the sights and sounds of a lot of things at once. He can see Ajax blinking furiously next to him at the same time, trying to process all the incoming information.
Spread out in front of him are a variety of people he never thought he’d see together in one place at the same time, all cheering and clapping and whistling at varying levels of enthusiasm:
- Hu Tao, his current employer, who has ordered him to enjoy his vacation instead of coming to work for the next week, and whom now appears before him blowing two noisemakers at once, one in each nostril;
- Venti, his former roommate and prosecution lawyer once upon a distant time, catcalling upon his entrance even as his arms are slung around a blushing
- Xiao, the night guard at the museum where he once worked as a curator, looking like he is regretting his decision to be there more and more by the moment;
- Ganyu, the younger sister of an old friend, and an old friend herself, beaming radiantly as she waves at him from her position between Xiao and
- Keqing, his favorite YouTube video essayist, philosopher, and political commentator, standing somewhat awkwardly at the end of the line with a party popper in hand, which she shoots off in response to spirited and heartfelt encouragement from persons #1 and #2, respectively.
“Don’t worry, it’s food-grade confetti!” Xiangling yells over the din of it all, even as Hu Tao is counting down from 3, and then everyone in the room—Ajax included, curse his impressive intuition for the performing arts—is shouting “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ZHONGLI!” in terrible, cacophonous unison.
Sonically speaking, it is perhaps the most unpleasant sound he has heard in his entire life. Considering he once lived with Venti, this is a remarkable accomplishment.
Physically speaking, Zhongli is not as young as he used to be. He’s not quite the “old geezer” that Hu Tao refers to him as, but the prime of his youth is certainly past. Maybe that’s why, as he stands in the center of the room, ears ringing, his first instinct is to sigh and close his eyes instead of jumping or screaming.
“Thank you, everyone, for your kindness,” he says, not bothering to raise his voice, and the noise level drops at once as they all strain to hear him. Excellent. He’s still got it from his days as a TA back in graduate school, then. “I believed tonight to be a simple celebration of the incoming year, and nothing else. I am honored that you have chosen to celebrate my life during this time as well.”
The glint of a camera lens catches his eye, and behind the blinking light he can see a head of fluffy green hair and round glasses. The camerawoman from Albedo’s science show pokes her head out and offers him a shy smile and a wave before she returns to her position behind the video camera, dutifully filming the events of the evening.
Ajax is smiling at him with immeasurable fondness, and even Xiao is starting to look less uncomfortable, his posture relaxing as he continues to speak. Evidently, the changing atmosphere in the room is enough to rally the rest of his fellow partygoers, because Venti and Hu Tao take it upon themselves to drag him into the center of the room, one gremlin per each of his sleeves. Hu Tao claps her hands, and he hears the sound of Xiangling scrambling for something where she stands by the doorway. He hears the click of a light switch, and then the overhead lights of the kitchen of the studio dim until only a single light above his head remains.
“Speech! Speech! Speech!” Venti begins, clapping his hands with a, hm, how would Hu Tao put it, “shit-eating” grin on his face. The woman herself joins in next, followed by Xiangling (who at least has the grace to look guilty) and then an enthusiastic Ajax (who does not).
“Very well, very well,” Zhongli says, heaving the sigh of a cornered man. “As long as you all quiet down.”
Unfortunately, he knows from experience that if he refuses to give in now, both Venti and Hu Tao are more than capable of wearing him down eventually. In particular, Venti’s background in music performance—with an emphasis on wind instruments—means that he has the lung capacity to carry on with gusto for several more hours, until he either gets bored or someone physically incapacitates him.
Thus: he yields strategically. As much as he appreciates his friends, this is a survival mechanism to ensure that he (and his hearing) make it through the night intact.
Zhongli takes a seat on one of the high-backed chairs on the outer rim of the room and crosses his legs. The rest of the group all scramble to settle themselves accordingly: Ganyu parks herself on the floor where they stand, with Keqing following suit a moment later; Ajax pulls up his own seat from across the room; Xiao and Hu Tao remain standing on the fringes of the room, with the older man leaning on the wall; and Venti hops on the countertop, only to receive a sharp smack (“Ow!” “Not in my kitchen!”) from Xiangling for his troubles. In the end, he scoots himself onto the floor near Ajax and leans back to use the redhead’s legs as his personal back rest, while Xiangling makes herself comfortable somewhere in the back alongside Sucrose, helping her adjust the camera as the lighting has changed.
“Though it feels the time has scarcely passed, we have arrived again at the final day of the year,” he begins. “Beyond signifying my date of birth, the 31st of December represents the departure of one year, and the arrival of the next.”
Closing his eyes, he lets the brightness of the spotlight fall away. The others have all grown silent, so it’s easy to picture himself from five years ago, or even ten, when he was still living in the old apartment he called home for almost a decade. Even after he'd moved past a graduate student salary, museum curation did not prove to be much more well-paying. He can almost picture the streams of dust floating in the air by his crumbling windowsills, feel the aging creak of the wood beneath his feet.
“In the past, I most often observed this date on my own. To me, it has little practical significance other than a means of personal identification, and a turning point for the incoming year. I passed the hours in typical fashion, and when the day concluded, it was like any other. Simply the natural termination of a finite thing, finished but ultimately flowing onwards, carrying on into its next incarnation.”
He opens his eyes. “It has only been in recent years that I have bothered to change this old habit of mine. Indeed, many things have changed in my life as of late. For one, I have never received a surprise party before, so you may consider tonight to be a success.”
Casting his gaze across the room, he can make out the dark figures of Sucrose and Xiangling quietly high-fiving next to the camera. Hu Tao creeps over to offer her own ghost of a high-five from a slight distance, as Ajax, Ganyu, and Venti all meet his eyes with varying expressions of pleased adoration. Keqing and Xiao, meanwhile, stare up at him with a raptured attention that reminds him once again of teaching undergraduates.
Uncrossing his legs, Zhongli leans forward to rest his head on his hands. “This has been a year of many firsts for me. With your company, I have acquired a wide variety of new experiences such as this one. More than that, you have shaped my ability to see the world in a new light, regardless of novelty.”
“No matter how short our time together may be, I will treasure the memories we share together. Even if our paths cross for only a brief moment, they will leave me with no regrets. People from a thousand miles apart may still be brought together by fate; as such, I will carry the gift of our friendship on in my heart for the rest of my life.”
It’s all a blur after that. As soon as it’s evident that he’s done talking, there’s a rush of movement, and then Venti and Hu Tao and Xiangling and Ajax all descend upon him in a flurry of orange and red and green. One pair of arms comes up to grasp him by the shoulders, while another wraps around his midsection and holds tightly. Still another person clasps his hands between their own just as someone else smacks a kiss onto his cheek. Even Ganyu and Keqing and Xiao, held back by social convention, give in and join the fray, albeit in a more reserved manner.
It's utterly overwhelming, in the best way imaginable—he feels safe here, and cared for in a very immediate sense, so after his muted attempts to extricate himself fail for the third or fourth time, he simply gives in and lets his friends hug him into oblivion.
They all break apart and return to standing a normal distance away from each other eventually, but the veneer of formality in the room has been utterly shattered. Everyone is smiling, riding the high of oxytocin and simple human contact, and Xiangling opts to take full advantage of the moment by declaring that the time for dinner preparation has arrived at last.
“Today’s video will be a little bit different than the usual! I’ve prepared the menu for tonight in advance—catered to the tastes of our guest of honor, of course, so no non-fish seafood, Childe, sorry!” She claps her hands together with a sparkle in her eye. “We’ll be working in pairs to prepare enough dishes to feed everyone in total, so let’s get cracking!”
With that, the tasks are distributed amongst the group, and Xiangling sets them all off to work with terrifying efficiency. Zhongli and Ajax are paired together to prepare longevity noodles and broth, while Keqing and Ganyu are set to make dumplings. Xiao and Venti appear to be in charge of generating a cake large enough to feed all nine of them (a terrifying prospect even when not handled by Venti, who, to his credit, is actually a fair baker). Their hostess for the evening has elected to group herself with Hu Tao to cook the fish, boil and dye the eggs, and prepare any other ingredients necessary for the other duos, thus circumventing the need to have the fire department on speed dial for the evening. Zhongli admires her foresight.
Sucrose switches the camera over from its large stationary stand at the back of the room to a smaller, more mobile mount that she takes to touring around the room, alongside the sound equipment. Xiangling’s kitchen also functions as her home studio, as all of the videos posted on her chefxiangling channel are all filmed and edited in the space as well, so the room is already well-equipped with lighting and ample room for video equipment between the many counters and tabletops.
Soon enough, the room is filled with the low hum of background chatter as everyone splits off into their respective pairs. Equipment is distributed around the room according to each duo’s task—Zhongli has never seen this many bowls in his life, and Xiangling just keeps pulling them out of cupboards and off shelves—and ingredients passed around wherever they are needed. While Ajax sets a huge stainless steel pot on the stovetop and begins to prepare the stock for soup, he combines the flour and water along with salt in a large mixing bowl. With the soup simmering away in the background, his boyfriend rejoins him just as he’s beginning to knead the dough, and they split the huge lump in two to make the process more manageable.
In the background, he can see Keqing meticulously chopping green onions and napa cabbage on a cutting board the size of Venti’s torso. Ganyu stands shoulder-to-shoulder with her, pausing her preparation of her own dough for the dumpling skins to laugh at something her girlfriend has just said. Behind them, Xiao cracks eggs into a bowl with deadly precision. Venti seems to be consulting with Xiangling about something as he sifts flour into another bowl, and the two of them burst into matching raucous laughter as they turn to see the severe expression on his face, which rapidly shifts into a deep flush at the sudden attention.
Even Hu Tao, notoriously unreliable in the kitchen, has found success in the simplest of tasks: boiling water for the eggs. She’s joking around with Sucrose, pointing at the other members of the kitchen and keeping up a running commentary for the camera in a mock documentary narrator’s voice. Behind her, a large pot bubbles merrily.
Ajax nudges him with his elbow, and he looks down to see that the dough has become smooth and firm. Enough for now. They wrap both halves in plastic wrap and leave them on the counter to rest for a half hour. In the meantime, there is plenty else to do.
The kitchen is soon alive with the sights and smells of a wonderful meal. Sucrose has an excellent knack for picking up on where the most interesting conversations in the rooms are happening, and she circulates among the hiss of frying aromatics and the ding! of oven timers to capture snippets of the evening. Xiao and Venti pull their cake out of the oven with an astonishing amount of combined competence, Keqing and Ganyu work in tandem to assemble a small army of dumplings down the countertop, and Hu Tao only manages to cover her own apron with red food coloring as she dyes the boiled eggs. Amongst it all, Xiangling weaves in and out, providing pointers and morale boosts where necessary, returning to her own station to prepare her specialty when not needed.
For their own dish, Zhongli prepares an array of ingredients for the soup, lean cuts of pork and thinly sliced mushrooms, tiny quail eggs and freshly picked green onions. After the dough is done resting, he recruits Ajax’s superior hand-eye coordination to stretch the dough into long, thin sheets, then slice it into tiny ribbons. Each noodle is lowered carefully into the soup to boil, and soon enough they’re ladling out servings and distributing toppings out into nine bowls.
By the time the cooking is finally complete, everyone is eager to dig in after being on their feet for hours. The winter sun has long since set, windows fogged up with condensation from all the boiling and steaming, and the countertops are completely strewn with dirty pots and pans. Xiangling beckons them all into the adjacent room, where a huge table has already been assembled, and they all herd in like sheep at her command, following their noses towards the spread of dishes.
The room smells like a dream. Sucrose takes her time panning over the array of food: the nine bowls of longevity noodles at each place at the table, thin and fine as threads of silk, contrast beautifully with the platters at the center. Aside from the bright red eggs, the chilis topping Xiangling’s boiled fish glisten beautifully in the lighting of the dining room. A veritable mountain of bamboo steamers reveals Keqing and Ganyu’s labor of love, tender pork dumplings accompanied by a dish of black vinegar and sesame oil dipping sauce. Last but not least, the cake rests atop a beautiful glass stand, topped with an assortment of fresh sliced fruits.
He thinks he sees a tear escaping Xiangling’s eye after Sucrose gives them the OK to move in onto the table and begin eating. Venti manages to pick his jaw up off the ground for just long enough to rush towards the door before the rest of the partygoers can descend onto the table. He returns with a few paper bags, which he deposits on the unoccupied edges of the table with a flourish.
“Ta-da!” he sings, whipping away the brown paper to reveal several bottles of sweet osmanthus wine. “Happy birthday, old man!”
“I am only one year older, you disgrace to the arts,” Zhongli says, but his eyes are watering at the corners all the same, and he has to take a deep breath and blink away the tears before he can continue speaking.
Venti is still looking at him eagerly, rocking back and forth on his heels like he’s waiting to be praised, so he sighs and reaches forward to sweep the smaller man close to his chest in a tight embrace. Unfortunately, the awful creature must find it funny in some way, because just seconds later he can feel his torso shaking with secondhand laughter as Venti giggles from somewhere right above his belly, body folded in half in his mirth.
“What,” he grumbles, and the shaking only intensifies. Keqing makes a muffled sound behind the back of her hand that is definitely a laugh. Ajax and Hu Tao are bent over in laughter themselves, and the image of Ajax’s significantly taller body compressed down right next to Hu Tao’s is enough to finally crack his unimpressed façade. In the end, he pushes Venti away and into a seat at the table to disguise the smile on his own face, but from Ganyu’s knowing smile, he hasn’t fooled anyone.
While everyone negotiates themselves a seat at the table, Xiangling procures a beautiful set of cups from somewhere in her kitchen, and Zhongli pours out a drink for all the adults at the table (fortunately, their hostess has prepared for this scenario, too, and graciously declines in favor of sparkling apple juice).
“Lead us in a toast?” he asks, and the blue-haired girl shakes her head.
“I’ll defer to the wisdom of the elders on this matter,” she replies, her eyes sparkling.
Hu Tao slaps her playfully on the shoulder as she sits back down. “Atta girl.”
Zhongli scoffs slightly, but settles at the head of the table and raises his cup in a toast nonetheless. All around him, old and new friends alike mirror the gesture. His heart swells so full that he fears it may burst.
“To many more years like this one,” he says. “May all of our wishes come true, and may we all enjoy endless longevity. Gānbēi!”