Chapter Text
Zhongli had anticipated that retirement would bring him peace.
A quiet existence filled with his precious thinking time, cups of fine tea, and afternoons spent in the company of history books.
After fifteen years of archaeological work, and ten years of teaching, his life had been a whirlwind of excavation sites, lecture halls, and research papers. He'd unearthed countless artifacts, mentored dozens of students, and built a reputation as one of Liyue's most distinguished scholars. At forty-five, he'd earned his rest.
Or so he’d thought.
Two years into retirement, Zhongli found himself desperately, inexplicably bored.
It wasn't that he lacked things to do. His garden needed tending, his library remained full of unread volumes, and the teahouses of Liyue Harbor always welcomed his patronage. The problem was that after a lifetime of purpose, the sudden absence of structure left him adrift.
His mind, trained for decades to analyze and synthesize and question, now found itself under-stimulated. Restless, like a caged animal, waiting for its slow death.
Zhongli felt selfish for his discontent.
His colleagues had thrown him a wonderful retirement party. His former students had sent him heartfelt notes of gratitude. Everyone seemed so pleased for him, so certain that he'd finally found the peace he deserved. How could he possibly complain?
So he didn’t.
Instead, he took long walks through the harbor, his leather-bound notebook tucked under one arm. He observed the changing seasons, the ebb and flow of commerce, the way the city seemed to move at a pace that left him standing still. He took meticulous notes on everything, as if recording the present might somehow anchor him to it.
And it was during one of these walks, on an afternoon that seemed unremarkable, that something rather remarkable did happen.
The apartment beside his—the one recently vacated by Mrs. Chen, an elderly woman with whom he'd shared many pleasant conversations—stood with its door slightly ajar. Zhongli knew Mrs. Chen had moved to Qingce Village to live with her daughter several weeks ago, and the apartment had sat vacant ever since.
Jarringly, a pair of dirty athletic shoes sat untidily outside the doorway.
Zhongli paused, his scholarly curiosity immediately piqued.
A squatter, perhaps?
Or a contractor preparing the space for a new tenant?
Zhongli couldn't quite bury the instincts that had served him so well in his younger years, so after a moment’s hesitation, he approached the open door and peered inside.
What he saw did not meet either expectation.
A young man stood in the center of the apartment, shirtless and wearing nothing but a pair of worn jeans. His hair was a shocking shade of red—natural, from the looks of it—and fell in wild, untamed curls. Headphones covered his ears, and he moved with unconscious grace as he cleaned, his lean, muscled frame swaying to whatever music played in his ears. He hummed along, completely lost in his own world.
It was like catching an animal in its natural habitat. Something intimate that made Zhongli suddenly feel like an intruder, disturbing nature like a clumsy human. But before he could extract himself, the young man turned and their eyes met.
The headphones came off in one swift motion.
"Who the hell are you?!" The words were sharp, accusatory, and the young man's blue eyes narrowed with valid suspicion.
Shaken but not one to be easily flustered, Zhongli maintained his composure. "My apologies for startling you. I am Zhongli, your next-door neighbor. I noticed the door was open and became... concerned."
The young man's expression immediately shifted to embarrassment, but for just a fraction of a second, Zhongli could have sworn he saw something else—a flash of calculation, perhaps—before the sheepish smile took over. His cheeks flushed and he quickly grabbed a shirt from a nearby box, pulling it over his head.
"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—" The redhead ran a hand through his messy hair, looking genuinely distressed. "I just moved in today, and I wasn't expecting anyone to just... I mean, I should've closed the door, I just thought it might help air the place out, and—"
"Please," Zhongli interrupted gently, raising a hand to stop the young man's rambling. "There's no need to apologize. I am the one who intruded uninvited. You are the new tenant, then?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am." The young man seemed to collect himself, offering a timid smile. "My name’s Ajax. I, uh... I just moved to Liyue. Still getting used to everything here."
"Ajax," Zhongli repeated, testing the name. Foreign, but it sounded perfectly suited somehow.
There was a brief, awkward silence. Ajax shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncertain how to proceed. Then, as if making a decision, he gestured toward the kitchen.
"Hey, look, I feel bad about the whole... you know, shouting at you thing. Can I offer you some tea? As an apology? I don't have much set up yet, but I've got tea and a pot, at least."
Tea. The universal language of Liyuen hospitality.
Zhongli felt something in his chest loosen, a first genuine spark of interest.
"I would be delighted."
And so, quite unexpectedly, Zhongli found himself following this young stranger into what had once been Mrs. Chen's kitchen. The once-cluttered room was mostly empty if not for the unopened moving boxes and a few loose mugs scattered across the counter.
Ajax beelined for a box, retrieved a tea set, filled a kettle with water, and set it on the stove. Meanwhile, Zhongli occupied his attention by reading the labels on nearby boxes, noting their contents:
‘Kitchen.’ ‘Books.’ ‘Camera Equipment.’ ‘Office.’
The man's belongings didn’t look like much, but Zhongli could already see traces of the man's personality in what he'd chosen to bring with him.
Ajax left the kitchen briefly and returned with a small shopping bag Zhongli recognized as from the grocery store down the road. From the bag, Ajax pulled out a small tin of loose-leaf tea. Nothing fancy, but respectable quality for someone who'd just arrived in an unfamiliar city.
"I have to warn you, I'm still learning about brewing Liyuen tea," Ajax said with a self-deprecating smile as he spooned leaves into the pot. "Back home, we mostly just drink black tea strong enough to strip paint."
Zhongli gave a small laugh at the joke.
“Do not worry. The tea set you brought is quite appropriate for the tea blend you purchased. Qiaoying in origin, in Chenyu Vale. A good choice.”
Ajax flushed bashfully as he closed the tin. "Ah, I can't take credit for that. I bought this tea set from a souvenir stall at the airport, and the girl at the shop recommended the tea. She said it was popular with locals."
Zhongli smiled warmly. "Then fortune guided you well. Perhaps next time I can recommend other varieties for you to try."
"I'd like that," Ajax said, his expression softening. He glanced aside at the warming kettle, seeming to gather courage before adding, "I... I really appreciate this. Having someone to talk to. It was… kind of a rough journey getting here."
The admission tugged at something in Zhongli's chest—a loose thread attached to something yet undiscovered.
"It is my pleasure," he replied honestly. "Your previous neighbor, Mrs. Chen, was a delightful conversationalist, but she was a Harbor native like myself. I look forward to talking with someone beyond our warm shores. If you don't mind my asking, what brings you to Liyue?"
Ajax let out a soft laugh, running his hand through his hair again. A nervous habit Zhongli was beginning to notice.
"Travel, mostly. Call it an impulse, but I've always felt more comfortable on the move than staying in one place." He paused, something unreadable crossing his features. "Though I think Liyue might be where I stop."
The way Ajax said it gave Zhongli pause.
"Plus, you know those giant encyclopedia sets? I used to flip through those as a kid, dreaming about seeing the places pictured in there for real. Liyue was always at the top of my list. The architecture, the history, the landscapes. It felt almost magical." Ajax paused, eyes sparkling before he dialed back his child-like excitement. "Sorry, I’ll ramble if you let me.”
Zhongli felt his pulse quicken. "Please, do not apologize for your enthusiasm. As a former professor, I can assure you that I am quite accustomed to and appreciate passionate discourse on such subjects."
Something flickered across Ajax's expression—interest, certainly, but also something else.
Relief? Concern?
It vanished before Zhongli could identify it, but he filed the observation away nonetheless.
The kettle began to whistle, pulling both men’s attention. Ajax turned to attend to it, pouring hot water over the tea leaves with care.
“To be honest,” Ajax continued from where he left off, “those encyclopedias were pretty outdated. Liyue is so much more vibrant in person. More than even what the internet shows." He arranged two mismatched cups on the counter and carefully poured the tea. "I've been here a couple of days and my phone’s already maxed out on storage with photos. The scenery here is incredible. Golden hour hits different here compared to home. Probably because everything back home is either white snow or gray slush for ten months in a year."
"A photographer," Zhongli mused, accepting the offered cup of tea with a small nod of gratitude. "That explains the camera equipment I noticed among your belongings."
Ajax blinked, then laughed. "Oh! Haha, no. I mean, I’ve dabbled. I just have an eye for composition, but I'm not a professional or anything. I've worked a lot of odd jobs over the years. Kind of have to when you live the wandering lifestyle."
“But that means you’ve acquired a diverse range of skills," Zhongli complimented, taking a sip of his tea. The flavor was pleasant, if simple. "That must make for fascinating stories."
Ajax took a quick sip of his own tea, his eyes distant for a moment.
"Some good, some bad. Mostly just... experiences, you know? Things that taught me something." His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his teacup. Then just as quick, he released it and leaned against the counter. "What about you? You said you were a professor?"
Zhongli filled Ajax in on his background as a historian, sharing anecdotes from his years of research. He found himself relaxing into the conversation, surprised by how easy it was to talk to this young man who listened with genuine interest, asking thoughtful questions about Liyue's history and culture without even a hint of boredom.
More cups of tea were poured until only the dregs remained. Zhongli glanced at his watch and was startled to realize nearly two hours had passed.
“I apologize, Ajax. I did not mean to take so much of your time. You must have more pressing matters to attend to on your move-in day."
"No worries," Ajax said, his smile dimpling his cheeks. "This was exactly what I needed. I consider myself lucky to have such a welcoming neighbor. You could've just ignored me." He chuckled sheepishly, then added more seriously, "But really, thanks for checking in. Not many people would do that anymore."
"The pleasure has been mine," Zhongli replied, and he meant it. "Should you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to knock."
Ajax walked him to the door.
"By the way, when are you expecting the rest of your things?" Zhongli asked, glancing back at the sparse apartment through the doorway. His neighbor's belongings seemed too few for someone who claimed to have wandered for years.
"Next week."
"Then I shall come by then to help you settle in, if you would like."
Ajax's smile widened, something warm and genuine lighting up his features. "I'll definitely take you up on that, Professor."
The door closed with a soft click, leaving Zhongli standing in the entryway. As the elder walked the short distance back to his own apartment, he felt something he hadn't experienced in months:
Anticipation.
It had been a long time since Zhongli had felt this fulfilled, and he was already looking forward to his next conversation with his young neighbor. Ajax was charming and intelligent, with a curiosity that reminded Zhongli of his brightest students. Yet there was something else beneath the surface—a shadow that clouded his eyes at times, and a tension in his shoulders that never quite released.
Something was there, and some unsated part of Zhongli—the part that had lain dormant for years—wanted very much to understand what it was.
Back in his own apartment, Zhongli moved to his favorite armchair by the window. The leather creaked as he settled into it, and he found himself gazing at the wall he shared with Ajax's apartment, contemplating the enigmatic young man on the other side.
Perhaps retirement wouldn't be quite so boring after all.