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At the end of every shift in his job as a consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Zhongli has followed the same routine every working day during the many years of his employment. He clocks out at precisely six pm, taking care to reorganize the small pile of paperwork into several stacks at his desk. He sighs through his boss’ impish grins and playful jabs on his way out the door and steps out into the cool, crisp evening air of Liyue Harbor.
Being a deity for thousands of years has never allowed him the opportunity to bask in the simplicity of a moment, nor the same relentless need to make the most of every fleeting day. Immortality dulls the sharp sting of time but does not make it any less relentless. If anything, the burden grows ever heavier and, as Rex Lapis, his shoulders would ache with weariness.
However, as Zhongli, the mysterious but well-read funeral consultant at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, basks in the small joys of life.
He passes by the market from his workplace, a familiar route that cuts right through the bustle. To his right, Ying’er tries to catch his attention with a small wave as she presents a heady but sweet-smelling perfume—a mix of sweet flowers and, oddly enough, Juyeun chili—which he comments on with a small awed explanation of how well their properties truly mixed together. She was pleased with his explanation, offering to reserve it for him when he passes by later today after dinner with his wallet, her eyes teasing. Zhongli agrees eagerly, of course.
Eventually, he makes it to his destination. As always Chef Mao stands at the front of the store, taking in orders with a jovial smile as he talks to regulars as they pick up their orders. Zhongli nods in greeting as he passes by and takes his usual seat at Wanmin Restaurant—at a table tucked away near the back so he could easily see the ships docked at the harbour, but quiet enough that he is free to amuse himself with his thoughts—and smiles at his dinner companion.
On days such as this, that dinner companion would be his husband, Ajax. Today was no different.
Xiangling comes by, already familiar with his usual routine, and leaves a small pot of tea at the middle of the table—steam curling from the spout with the undeniable smell of qingxin—and two pale green ceramic cups. She shoots him an uncertain look between him and his dinner companion. However, he just smiles at her to assuage her fears.
“I have a new recipe I’ve been working on, Zhongli-xiansheng,” she says, a smile on her face. It looks a little stiff, her eyes flickering to his companion. “Would you like me to send it in with your usual?”
“Ah, apologies, but just the usual dishes will do,” he replies with a small smile, already pouring himself a drink. “And if you would kindly send the bill to Northland Bank for tonight’s meal. It appears I forgot my wallet again.”
“Oh, that’s all right, Zhongli-xiansheng. I will have your orders out right away!”
“Thank you, Xiangling,” Zhongli says as he lifts the cup to his lips, steam curling just above the tea’s surface as he savours the subtly bitter but floral smell of his tea. He takes a carefully measured sip, closing his eyes. Once finished, he soundlessly places the cup back on the table and smiles at his companion.
Wide blue eyes stare back at him—brighter than he’s ever seen it, younger than he’s ever seen it—from across the table he could barely reach. Zhongli ploughs through the uncomfortably sour feeling at the pit of his stomach, careful not to let it show in the way he carefully tips tea into the other cup.
“Hello Ajax,” he says, voice calm and face impassive but friendly. “I hope your afternoon was well.” At the corner of his eye a small group of Fatui, who undoubtedly accompanied the boy here, were huddled together, keeping an eye on their surroundings.
Ajax ducks his head, takes one of the cups of tea—careful, it’s hot—and takes a small sip. “It was okay,” he says, voice shy and a pitch higher than usual. “I’ve never been to Liyue before. It’s so hot here…” Ajax grumbles a little at the end, staring at the steam from the tea.
Zhongli distinctly remembers Teucer, Ajax’s younger brother, who looks uncannily similar to him now, albeit less outgoing and a bit more polite. Regardless, he says, “Liyue is bordered by the sea and is primarily considered a tropical country. The heat is the humidity caused by excess water vapour in the air as the harbour borders the ocean.
“Unlike mainland Liyue, the harbour is actually a little cooler. When the temperature on land gets too warm, the air rises and the cooler air from the ocean occupies the vacated space. This is what we typically call the sea breeze.”
In moments like these, when Zhongli inevitably devolves into a lecture on whichever topic passes his fancy, Ajax would nod along—sometimes just as a polite courtesy when he’s already heard the same thing once before from his own mouth—and sometimes sprinkle in the occasional question. He can not deny that the attention pleases him, that the genuine interest was not a point in his love’s favour when they first met.
Unsurprisingly, his younger self was equally entranced, hands twisting around his cup and mouth ajar. However, unlike his Ajax who hid his emotions behind a cheeky smile and a carefully constructed veneer of control, honed by years of rigorous military training, this Ajax didn’t even bother. He thinks of a time when Ajax ever looked like this—unapologetic of his childlike curiosity and brimming with this fidgety, barely held in excitement—and immediately remembers him in the midst of battle, blood-soaked and beautiful.
Zhongli takes a long sip of his tea.
“Mr. Zhongli, your voice is very nice,” Ajax says, suddenly shy but still honest. He ducks his head to take another sip of his tea. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”
He smiles, “Yes, well. Thank you, Ajax. I’ve been told it makes my stories quite interesting to listen to.”
Ajax tightens his hands on his cup, feet kicking out restlessly, and he says hesitantly, “My father tells me stories a lot.”
“About?”
He shrugs, drumming his fingers, “Adventure?”
Zhongli does not miss the soft change in tone as he says it. He was not oblivious to the idealistic outlook of his husband, nor his upbringing in the small seaside town of Morepesok. On the late nights that his Ajax could spare in between work as a Harbinger, when he turns up at his doorstep in Liyue with a soft, tired smile and smelling like the ocean and standard issue Fatui detergent. He would tell him soft stories of his childhood, of growing up as the middle child of a big family, of cutting open frozen over ice in the early morning just to spend the afternoon fishing.
A shy child built on humble beginnings, emboldened by his father’s tales of grandeur. Zhongli looks across at that same child right now and smiles. Nowadays, his Ajax is less about seeing himself as the hero of the tale, but the strength and ability of those Zhongli describe. However, no love is lost from these tales. It was oddly comforting that despite his circumstances, Ajax retains some things from his early childhood.
“Like?” he prompts, knowing the tales before it even leaves his mouth.
Ajax bites his lip, forehead creasing. It takes a moment, which Zhongli gladly gives him as Xiangling arrives with their food, carefully stacked in her arms. She places each dish on the table, casting a small glance his way, before smiling and turning to leave. In front of them were the usual jade parcels, matsutake meat rolls, and, surprisingly, Wanmin Restaurant’s boiled fish dish. He does not comment on them.
“Have you heard of the story of my name? Ajax?”
Zhongli has, of course. Despite the tragedy in the story, it was one of Tartaglia’s favourite stories to tell. “Yes, but enlighten me. Contrary to popular belief, my memory is not infallible,” he says as he picks up the chopsticks near his hand.
“Infallible?”
“Incapable of mistakes.”
“Oh,” Ajax says, eyes on the food, sparkling with intent. Liyue is a country renowned for its depth of flavour, and for a young boy from a small village on the outskirts of Snezhnaya, something new like this is certainly appealing. “But the food is here already. I’m not even sure if I remember it.”
Ajax remembers. His Ajax always reflected on this story like it was a challenge from fate itself. A tragedy to overcome, a death omen with odds to beat.
Zhongli shook his head, “Humor me.”
The boy looks up, eyes contact for only the briefest of moments before he stares intently at the table. He shifts in his seat and says, “If you insist.
“My name, Ajax, comes from Ajax the Great. He was a great hero who fought in a war aided and overseen by gods. However, when he loses to an even greater hero, he gets mad. And… Well, my father never continued after that. I suspect that he dies, of which I am unsure.”
Zhongli knows the specifics. A tragic but classic story, rooted firmly in some of the most human aspects a person could have: selfishness and pride. It is always so curious as to why his father named his son after such a tragedy. Its end was unhappy for both Ajax the Great and his brother, Teucer who was inevitably exiled after his death.
He also wonders why exactly both Ajaxes seem to like such a tale, to begin with. It shows nothing of great valour or supreme fighting ability, nor the heroism that would allure this younger self. So he asks, “And why do you like such a story? It doesn’t appear to be very heroic.”
“Well, life at home, Mister Zhongli, is simple. There is no excitement, and most people who live in Morepesok expect to be born at its shores and die at its shores, just as their forefathers before them,” he says this as if he were reciting them from memory, but his real feelings still rang true with every word that escapes him. “This story makes me feel capable of such change, and of an adventure, I can experience for myself, despite the ending.”
It was deeply naive but spoke volumes of his intent. While Tartaglia has a neigh unquenchable thirst for power, this Ajax wished for an adventure like no other. It becomes perfectly clear to Zhongli that had Ajax not fallen into the Abyss, he would have still found himself across the world—Morepesok, too small a town to contain such a sterling young boy.
Zhongli won’t say he understands the need to prove something as he has lived as something extraordinary, placed in extraordinary circumstances for thousands of years. It was these feelings that pushed a foolhardy young boy to enter a forest with only a shortsword and a bag of bread. So instead, he nods, taking his chopsticks and piling his and Ajax’s plate with a little of everything on the table.
“Mr. Zhongli?”
“Yes?”
“What is that in your hands?”
“Chopsticks,” Zhongli says as he stares at the chopsticks in his hands, recalling that his Ajax never learned how to use chopsticks prior to his stay in Liyue. “Would you like to learn?”
Ajax perks up as he says excitedly, “You’ll teach me?”
“Of course,” he says, taking the young boy’s chopsticks from across the table. “How else will you enjoy Liyue’s gastronomy otherwise?”
“With a spoon and a fork?”
Zhongli has had this exact same conversation many times with his husband before he just barely managed to hold chopsticks well enough to pick food up. Even then, his handhold was atrocious, but at that point, it was a point of pride and not contention. He smiles a little, the sour feeling metastasizing into something hollow.
He fidgets a little with his chopsticks, rolling them between his fingers, and says, “There is great cultural significance to chopsticks, Ajax, and they have been in use for thousands of years here in Liyue and, in the years, its prevalence has even spread to the nation of Inazuma.
Initially, it was intended as a cooking utensil that enabled cooks to reach deep into pots of boiling water or oil without getting burned. While, today, we are now capable of crafting utensils such as tongs, more used in other cultures such as Snezhnaya, that could imitate a chopsticks’ function, these did not pass into dining utility the same way chopsticks had.”
As he spoke, Zhongli was placing the chopsticks into Ajax’s little hands, correcting the finger positions carefully. Ajax stares at the chopsticks in wonder, fingers immediately jostling the placement in a clumsy attempt to move it. “How did the people of Liyue start using chopsticks anyway?”
“Well, during a significantly rough economic crisis early into the Archon War, chefs had to resort to—hold it like you would a pencil, Ajax—cutting food small to save up on cooking time and, in turn, fuel. However, it made it hard to pick up, and so people resorted to using chopsticks instead.”
“Like this, Mr. Zhongli?” Ajax asks, lifting his hand up to eye level.
He nods, “Then you keep the top steady and adjust the bottom stick up and down. This allows you to pick up food,” he says, imitating this manoeuvre on his own chopsticks. “Why don’t you try it yourself?”
His attempts are clumsy. Whenever he tries to pick up food, his grip falters, and the piece of food slips from his shaky grasp. Zhongli wisely refrains from commenting, taking a long sip of his tea as he simply waits for him to pick up the jade parcel with unsteady hands. At his second cup, Ajax shouts in excitement, a jade parcel in his mouth.
“I did it!”
“You did. Congratulations,” he says with a smile. Ajax beams, swallowing the dumpling whole like a boa would a particularly large animal, and reaching for another piece. “Don’t forget to chew, Ajax.”
“Okay, Mr. Zhongli!” he says before putting another dumpling in his mouth. “This is so good!”
“And don’t speak with your mouth full.”
Ajax swallows, immediately embarrassed, “Sorry. But it is good, Mr. Zhongli! I’ve never had anything like this before!”
“Well, Liyue has a long history of rich, aromatic, and diversely colourful cuisine. Many specialties such as the Jueyun chili are used abundantly to provide a depth of flavour to the meals.”
“I wish I had more meals like this at home,” he replies, pushing one of the meat rolls onto his plate—giving up on trying to pick it up entirely. “Though, you should definitely try some Snezhnayan cuisine, Mr. Zhongli! It’s certainly nothing like this, but it tastes good. I promise!”
Zhongli nods, “I’ve tried some in the long time I’ve lived. Especially most recently.”
Ajax frowns, “Long time? You don’t look old! My brother’s cat, he’s a senior cat much older than all of my siblings and is blind in one eye, looks older than you are!”
A cat? “You’d be surprised. I’m certainly much older than the typical cat lifespan, Ajax.”
“If you say so, but I figured you’ve tried Snezhnayan food before!”
Zhongli blinks, tilting his head, “How can you tell?”
“Your ring!” Ajax says, pointing to his right hand. On it was a simple golden ring inlaid with cor lapis and noctilucous jade. Compared to his robes and the items he usually buys at the store, the ring itself appears simple, but no less beautiful. It glows softly with the unmistakable presence of Geo energy. “In Snezhnaya, wedding rings go on the right hand and not the left! I bet your wife is very pretty, Mr. Zhongli.”
Zhongli can’t help the smile on his face as he nods his agreement, “Yes, my husband is very pretty, Ajax. The prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”
“Man? How do you make babies? Can men make babies?”
He coughs awkwardly, “Typically, human men can’t make babies with other human men.”
“Well, that’s okay! Some kids are completely terrible. My second oldest brother is awful! Imagine if you had a kid just like that, Mr. Zhongli?!”
“I’d love them all the same,” Zhongli replies, immediately amused.
Ajax sniffs, “Well, not me!”
“What does he even do that you deplore him so much?”
“Exist!”
At this, Zhongli can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Admittedly, I’ve never truly had siblings,” he says, adding another jade parcel to his plate. “I have close friends who I consider family and, as such, like siblings I never had. But it amuses me how much you hold an irrational dislike of your brother. Don’t all siblings have an innate love and care for each other?”
“No,” Ajax says with a shrug. “Or, well. I don’t know! Maybe? I care about my sister though—the younger one! Her name is Tonia, and she’s still a baby…”
“You care very much for her.”
Ajax blushes, suddenly shy again, “Well, yes… But she is a baby. It’s not like she did anything bad to me.”
Zhongli delicately places another jade parcel into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and watching the young boy carefully. Ajax let out a soft breath, rubbing his eye a little as he took another sip of his tea.
“Mr. Zhongli?”
He swallows his food before responding, “Yes?”
“What is it like being married?”
That makes him pause. He never expected to be asked that question, much less by the younger version of his husband. However, he still takes a moment to carefully craft a response. “It’s a wonderful feeling to be married. Some people may disagree, but I am happy with where I am. I’ve lived for a long time and was never able to fully commit myself to someone for a long time. I could not afford to be selfish, not for even a moment. Too many people depended on me for so long.
“I have loved many before him and lost even more. But for the first time in a long time, I was given the opportunity to be indulgent, and so I chose him.”
“That doesn’t sound very romantic.”
“It rarely ever is,” Zhongli says, taking a long sip. “How we met wasn’t even romantic in the least. He was assigned to rob me.”
“And you still married him?!”
“Well, yes. I did ask him to, of course. Rob me, that is. Well, marry me too, but that is only tangentially related.”
Ajax frowns, confused, “Mr. Zhongli, you’re a weird guy.”
Zhongli hums, “I prefer eccentric.”
Ajax yawns softly, passively realising that he was done with his food, “Mr. Zhongli?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you love him?”
Zhongli doesn’t take a moment to pause this time. He just smiles softly at Ajax and says, “It’s hard not to.”
“That’s not a very direct answer.”
“It’s the best I can give.”
“Mr. Zhongli, can I ask one last question?” Ajax asks again, placing his chopsticks neatly on his plate.
“Of course.”
“How exactly did I get to Liyue? Why are my parents not here with me?”
Zhongli pauses while he eats, swallowing slowly as he thinks about how to explain to Ajax the actual circumstances of his time in Liyue. He sets his chopsticks down on his plate, mirroring the young boy, and says, “They did not come with you.”
Ajax recoils, “What? Why?”
“Well, you came here on your own.”
“I— I did?” Ajax asks, frowning. “That’s… That’s not right. I’m only 11; my parents would never allow me to travel on my own!”
Zhongli watches with a grim smile, the tea tasting bitter on his tongue and the smell of qingxin becoming nauseatingly strong. The special medicine, laced with adeptal energy, is stronger than expected as Zhongli finishes the last cup from the pot. “You’re not 11, Ajax. You’re an adult, well into your 20s.”
Ajax pales and his voice trembles as he whispers, “That’s— Mr. Zhongli, you must be lying.”
“Your parents are back home in Snezhnaya, taking care of your three younger siblings. You have a sister and two brothers—all of whom you cherish.”
“Tonia?”
Zhongli nods, “You call her princess. Then there’s Anthon and Teucer. They adore you.”
“Teucer? Like in the story,” Ajax says breathlessly. “But why do you know all this, Mr. Zhongli?”
Zhongli allows his eyes to slide over to the gleaming bright gold band on his right hand. Liyue didn't typically have customs that necessitated the wearing of rings, but his Ajax insisted on account of his own traditions. Zhongli could never regret it, even if its pair was heavy in his left breast pocket. He glances back up as he replies, “We are well-acquainted in the future.”
Now, he always knew that his Ajax was smart. It took an exceptional person to achieve what Tartaglia did. His time in the abyss merely honed and utilised his innate potential as a means to survive. The small hint he gave was more than enough for Ajax to gasp in shock, understanding the significance and knowing, without words being spoken, what it entails.
Ajax blinks at him, eyes bleary and suddenly overtaken by fatigue, “Mr. Zhongli, I’m very sleepy.”
“I know,” Zhongli says, moving to stand up from his seat. “It appears the medicine is starting to take effect. The curse that caused this should lift, and you’ll be back to normal.”
He nods, “Okay. I’m just going to rest my head a bit, Mr. Zhongli.”
“Of course, sleep well.”
The next day Ajax wakes alone in bed with the sun well above the sky. He takes careful stock of his surroundings, eyeing the glass of water at his desk and a steaming cup of tea right next to it. A book was closed next to it, a pen between its pages. Written on the cover are the words “Liyue Tax Law” in crisp, golden symbols. That’s most definitely his husband’s, who takes this exact moment to enter the room. Zhongli immediately notices that’s up and his pace quickens.
Ajax smiles, tired, “Good morning, xiansheng.”
“It’s noon, baobei,” he replies, relieved.
He grins, cheeky. “It’s good noon, then. Good noon to you, xiansheng.”
Zhongli sighs, amused but so very happy, “Good noon to you too, baobei. Do you remember what happened?”
“Um, I think I messed around a bit too closely near Dottore’s things,” Ajax says, recalling the explosion that flung him clear across the room. While not completely hurt, Ajax had been completely soaked by an odd mix of chemicals that reacted badly to his abyssal taint, causing him to revert to a child. As such, he was sent back to Liyue in the hopes that the Adepti had a cure. “Did you find me a cute child?”
“Very much,” Zhongli says, smiling a little to himself. “Very sweet and very smart.”
Ajax huffs, “You make it sound like I’m not still cute, sweet, and smart!”
His husband chuckles, kissing him, “Of course not, Ajax. You’re still very cute, sweet, and smart.”
“God, I have morning breath and you’re making me flustered,” He says, pouting into their kiss.
“If I had a problem with your morning breath, I wouldn’t have married you.”
Ajax laughs, pulling him into the bed by the lapels of his suit, uncaringly creasing it. Zhongli obliges, climbing in. “Yknow,” he starts, leaning into his familiar warmth. “I think you owe me a dinner date? You promised you’d take me out.
“I promised that to your younger self, Ajax.”
“Yeah, but that was still technically me. We can go to Xinyue Kiosk.”
Without looking, Ajax can tell that Zhongli’s nose scrunches at the thought, “Ah, of course. If you recover enough by then.”
“Well, I’m fine now—”
“And promise not to do that again.”
Ajax grins, “Alright, fine. But you’re paying this time.”