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The first year into his retirement, Zhongli spends it exploring everything Liyue has to offer. He visits every store, wanders down every street, tries every restaurant, and chats with every merchant he meets. He cherishes his experiences no matter how mundane they may seem, the taste of unbridled freedom rendering those interactions as sweet as biting into a stick of freshly made tanghulu.
He shares each and every of those experiences in his letters to Childe—who, despite all that has happened, remains friendly and a loyal pen pal.
Today, I discovered a new stall that sells pork baos. The fragrant meat and fluffy dough prove to be an irresistible temptation, so much so that I found myself buying a pack of two dozen. I will take you there the next time you visit.
He gets a response back a week later.
I am glad that you are making full use of your well-deserved rest, Mr. Zhongli, but please remember to take care of your health and your finances! I look forward to trying those baos when I visit!
The second year into his retirement, Zhongli ventures out of the city. He treks down old roads he had once travelled when he led his people to safety and marvels at all the buildings and human activities that have blossomed around once desolate land. His journey bleeds into the following year, then a few more as his travels take him north to the Stone Gates, west to Qingce Village, then south-west to visit his Adepti friends.
“How goes your retirement, my lord?” Cloud Retainer asks over tea. “Have you been enjoying yourself?”
Zhongli nods. “It has been peaceful and exhilarating seeing how much the mortals have achieved. Did you know that there are plans to build a new village in Guili Plains?”
“In that old place? Isn’t it still flooded?”
“Not in a thousand years, but mortals have developed technology to easily remove water from the land if it floods again.”
“How quickly time marches forward.”
“Indeed,” Zhongli says with a soft hum. “By the way, I heard you and your disciple are visiting a local village. Would you mind delivering a letter for me?”
“Another one, my lord? Who could you possibly be writing to so frequently?”
Zhongli smiles and thinks of the piles of letters he has amassed in elegant, slanted writing. They always manage to find him no matter where he’s staying, carried by harried-looking Fatui members.
Remember to take care of yourself, the latest missive says, and say hi to the angry bird lady for me even though I suspect she will sooner peck my eyes out than return my greetings.
“A very dear friend,” he says, a pleasant warmth settling in his heart.
He returns to Liyue Harbour a few years later with the arrival of spring flowers. He airs out his home, opening all the windows to allow the fresh breeze to blow away the dust that had blanketed his home. In his time away, the little bao business has grown into a brick-and-mortar restaurant, his neighbours have started a family, and Miss Ying’er from his favourite perfume shop has gotten married to a Mr. Timaeus of Mondstadt.
How quickly time marches forward indeed. And yet, one constant remains.
Mr. Zhongli, I visited a teahouse in Inazuma and tasted some delicious green tea. It made me think of you so I couldn’t resist buying you a small bag.
Mr. Zhongli! I’m glad you’ve settled back home safe and sound! Thank you for your recommendations on Sumeru restaurants!
Mr. Zhongli, have you ever visited the great deserts of Sumeru? I thought Liyue was warm, but the deserts are something else!
I am pleased you are enjoying your travels, Zhongli writes, I look forward to hearing about all you’ve been up to the next time you’re in Liyue. You will find that Liyue Harbour has changed quite a bit since the last time you’ve visited…
He pauses.
Has it really been almost a decade since Osial’s release?
He shakes his head and finishes his letter with, As always, my invitation for dinner and drinks remain open.
I look forward to it, comes Childe’s response. I just have a few more things to take care of for Her Imperial Majesty first but after that, I am all yours.
His heart skips a funny little beat at that. He ignores it with another shake of his head and moves on.
The next set of years are spent visiting old battle grounds and remembering friends lost along the way. The village in Guili Plains is flourishing and at its current rate of growth, would become the second-largest city in Liyue in less than a decade. Wind and wave continue to weather away the jagged stone pillars of the Guyun Stone Forest with some of the once-proud cliffs reduced to mere rocks jutting out of the sea. The Dragon-Queller tree remains still and quiet, but a thick carpet of vegetation and tree growth have spread in the valley, threatening to smother Azhdaha’s commemorative tablet.
He clears it and moves on to his next location.
Time marches on and the world changes with it, but the letters from Childe continue to come.
Mr. Zhongli! Fontaine is a stunning country brimming with innovation, one of which is a portable music player. I am enclosing it with this letter, and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I have!
Mr. Zhongli, I’m afraid I’m not as young and spritely as I once was. I find myself craving a nice soft bed rather than brimming with excitement at having to travel another day through the wild untamed lands of Natlan. Adventures are overrated, don’t you think?
Mr. Zhongli, what I will give to have a day of relaxation in a proper hotel room where I can finally shower!
Zhongli chuckles. He never thought he’d see the day where Childe becomes sick of adventures. In his mind, Childe remains the same spirited youth from all those years ago with his mop of shining red hair, his dark blue eyes, and a happy smile mixed with just a touch of mischief.
“Goodbye, Mr. Zhongli!” he had said that fateful day on his way out of the city. He had a bright grin and was waving enthusiastically from the Snezhnayan ship. “Till we meet again! And don’t forget to write plenty, okay?”
Zhongli shakes off his musing and does as he promised: Although this is a poor replacement for a shower, I am enclosing some perfume that Miss Ying’er’s store has launched to celebrate the birth of her second child. I hope this blend is to your liking.
He gets a response a week later.
Mr. Zhongli, you are a life saver. I know there’s a reason why I adore you as much as I do!
Another skip in his heart followed by familiar warmth flooding his chest. Zhongli rereads the letter twice before folding it neatly and stashing it away with the rest of Childe’s letters in a small, ornate, wooden box. All the while, the corners of his lips are tugged upwards into a fond smile.
One day, Zhongli receives some good news.
I’m just about finishing up! I’ll be dropping by Liyue in a month’s time! Looking forward to seeing you again! It’s been far too long!
It really has been, Zhongli writes back, barely keeping his excitement from bleeding onto the page. When was the last time he’s felt such a strong burst of happiness? Not since the first few years of his freedom nearly two decades ago. I look forward to your visit, Childe.
But the month comes and goes and there are no new letters from Childe.
Childe? I wanted to check to see if you still plan to visit. If you are, please let me know about your new itinerary, thank you.
Childe, I wasn’t sure if my last letter to you got lost. I apologize if you’re receiving this message again. I wanted to see if you are still planning to visit? I understand if unexpected missions have cropped up and I promise I am not angry, I am just worried. Please let me know, thanks.
Childe, it’s been several months already. Is everything alright? Please respond. I just want to know you’re safe.
He gets his response eventually. He wishes he doesn’t.
Morax,
It has come to my attention that my Eleventh has been writing to you for the past two decades. It is due to his friendship with you that I feel the need to let you know about what happened. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news…
Zhongli reads the letter. He puts it down, picks it up, and rereads it again and again and again and again—
The words remain the same no matter how much he wishes otherwise.
By the time he’s done, the sun has set, casting his living room in darkness.
Ah.
It appears that once again, fate proves to be cruel and he is robbed of yet another person near and dear to his heart.
“I had wished,” he says to his too empty home, “that I could show you Liyue Harbour one more time.”
Time marches forward and there are no more letters.
Zhongli takes the opportunity to leave Liyue to visit his old friend in Mondstadt. Then, he travels further and visits Sumeru, Inazuma, Natlan, Fontaine—
All the while, he carries a box of letters with him tucked safely into his travel bag and protected by multiple talismans, forever preserving them in perfect condition.
It’s not lost on him that he’s following the same path Childe had trekked through the years they have exchanged letters. He’s not sure what he’s trying to achieve from this pilgrimage. Perhaps a chance to say goodbye and put to rest old sorrows? Or perhaps one last chance to connect with an old friend who had been taken from him far too soon?
Did you enjoy your adventures? he wonders while wandering through the wild lands of Natlan. Were you happy?
He wishes he has an answer to his questions, but time is marching forward and there are no more letters.
His journey ends in Snezhnaya. He hasn’t visited this country since the Cataclysm. Not much appears to have changed; Zapolyarny Palace remains silent, cold, and encased in forever ice such that every exhale sends a gust of white cloud before him. Even the throne room looks the same.
The Tsaritsa, on the other hand, appears colder than he remembers, colder than even her land. Her expression is grim and her blue eyes appear like icy chips against her pale, snowy complexion.
“Morax,” she greets from her throne. “I am pleased you have finally visited. My ex-Vanguard would have liked that.”
Zhongli tries not to flinch at the reminder. He tips his head in acknowledgement. “I would be grateful if you can take me to where he is buried.”
Childe’s final resting place is in a quiet cemetery in a small coastal town. It sits on top of a hill, protected under the canopy of a large larch tree and is marked by a simple tombstone engraved with the following words: “Lord Ajax Ryabakov, beloved son, brother, and friend. Eleventh Harbinger and loyal servant to the Tsaritsa.”
Ajax Ryabakov. It suited him.
Zhongli crouches down and brushes the snow off the tombstone. Then, he clears the snow on the ground beside it and sets down his travel bag.
“Hello Childe,” he says, “I am sorry it has taken me so long to visit. I know how eager you were to visit Liyue once more, so I hope you don’t mind that I brought some Liyuan delicacies for you to enjoy.”
He reaches inside his bag, grabs a box, breaks the seals, and reaches for its content.
“I spoke about taking you to the bao stall although it has since grown to be a popular restaurant with multiple store fronts. I brought you their famous meat bao and I am happy to report that the recipe is as delicious as it has always been…”
He lays out his gifts before the tombstone one by one, recounting tales of how the city has changed in the past two decades. When he runs out of stories about the city, he talks about the changes to the rest of the land, about the village in Guili Plain and the various growing settlements dotting the landscape, and then, about his Adepti friends.
And through it all, he can’t help but think: I wish I can show you everything. I wish you’re here, I wish, I wish, I wish—
But time moves on regardless of his desires.
When he comes back to himself, a fresh blanket of snow has covered the ground and his body. He shakes the snow off of him and gets up.
“Oh dear,” he murmurs. How many days has it been? “I’m afraid I have stayed far later than I should. Thank you for being so patient with me. You always have been.”
He brushes his hand along the name on the tombstone one last time. “Take care, Childe. Have a good rest. I will visit again as soon as I am able.”
As he leaves the quiet cemetery, he can almost hear a familiar bright voice in the wind.
Goodbye, Mr. Zhongli! Till we meet again!
Before he leaves, the Tsaritsa pays him one last visit.
“Here, these are for you,” she says, handing him a sealed box. “We found these in my ex-Vanguard’s apartments.”
“What is it?”
“Drafts of letters with words that ought to have been said.”
He thanks her and tucks the box into his travel bag. Then, he returns home.
He opens the box the moment he’s settled inside his house. Having been gone for years, the air smells musty and a thin layer of dust has settled over everything, but he doesn’t bother cleaning just yet. He only spares enough time to wipe down his table so that the box would not get dirty.
He breaks the seal and pops off the lid. A quick glance shows that the letters have been ordered chronologically for him. He starts with the oldest one and begins to read.
Dear Mr. Zhongli, this is my first day out of Liyue Harbour and I miss the city terribly already. I miss its scent, its bustling activity, its food, but most of all, I miss you—
The draft stops there. Zhongli picks up the second draft and reads.
Dear Mr. Zhongli, I arrived in Inazuma and the sights and sounds are amazing. I stopped by a teashop to try some tea and I remember the stories you would tell me about tea varieties and tea leaves and I can hear your voice in my head. I miss y—
He couldn’t grab the third one fast enough. Then the fourth, and the fifth—
Dear Mr. Zhongli, are you enjoying your retirement? Are you doing alright? Are you eating alright? Do you have enough mora? I try to get my men to cover your tab so at least when it comes to finances, I know you’re fine but what about everything else?
Dearest Zh Mr. Zhongli, it’s funny. I’ve always wanted to travel but the longer I find myself away from you, the more I’m starting to find it less fun. Receiving your letters only make me realize just how much I wish I was back in Liyue. I miss you terribly, and I don’t think I will ever stop missing you.
My dearest Zhongli, Sumeru is nice and the restaurants you recommend are fine, but I would take having snacks with you at a stall any day of the week. I want to go to that bao stall with you.
My dearest Zhongli, the deserts are awful and I miss you.
On and on the letters go, each of them containing variations of Childe’s yearning for Zhongli. The tender emotion is palpable from the inked words written in a shaky, nervous hand. At times, the words are strung together in a clumsy heap. It’s as if the writer is so filled with emotion that he can no longer contain them, and they come spilling out of him like a waterfall.
It is vastly different from the letters that were actually sent to him, written in neat writing with every sentence manicured to perfection.
My dearest Zhongli, today, I went to a play and all I can think of is our time at the opera and how lovely and happy you looked.
My dearest Zhongli, the wildlands are exhausting and I want nothing more than to sink into your arms.
My dearest, dearest Zhongli—
And then:
My sweet Zhongli,
I am so incredibly pleased that I am coming back to Liyue. All these years being away from you have been unbearable, but even more so in these past couple of months knowing how close I am to finishing everything. I have requested from the Tsaritsa an extended leave which means that after this mission is done, I am all yours for as long as I desire, and I plan to—I—Zhongli, even after writing to you for two decades I find myself at a loss for words. How can I begin to describe how important you are and how your words have kept me afloat when I felt like I was doing nothing but drowning? You’re the one constant in my life amongst the sea of chaos, my safe harbour, and I
I can’t believe I’ve been keeping this charade up for two decades. Two whole decades. I am a coward despite how much I’d like to think otherwise.
So, I’ll say it here. I’ll say it on these pages so that hopefully when I see you in person, I will muster the courage to tell it to you then.
I love you, Zhongli. I’ve loved you since my time in Liyue those twenty-odd years ago and I haven’t stopped loving you since. With every letter that we exchange, my love for you has only grown as with my desire to
I hope we’ll meet again soon. Soon. I am almost done. I am almost done and then, I can rest. I can finally tell you everything I’ve felt and...
...and hopefully, you’ll have me. It will make me the happiest person in the world.
Wait for me, Zhongli. Please.
Yours always,
Childe
Ajax Ryabakov
Zhongli rereads the letter. When he reaches inside the box for more, he finds nothing but air.
There are no more letters.
There will never be any more letters.
“Oh, Ajax,” Zhongli says. His home is quiet and dark and everything feels heavy. Has it always been like that? Has it always been this unbearable?
He rereads the letters as he tends to do with all of Ajax’s letters. When he’s done and has committed every word to memory, he stores them carefully back into the box, and seals them once more.
Time marches forward and Zhongli…continues.
He treks around Liyue Harbour, now grown to three times the size it was when Ajax had first visited, and observes the human activity around him. His neighbours have long since passed but their home has been inherited by their great, great, great, grandchildren, who are taking good care of the property. The bao stall that has transformed into a famous restaurant is now a worldwide franchise, selling the same meat baos in every major city, including in Snezhnaya’s capital. Although it is more convenient for Zhongli to purchase the baos there whenever he visits Ajax, he would still buy the buns from the original store front where the little stall once stood.
Time marches forward and the world moves on with it. The Tsaritsa began waging her war against Celestia and with the combined might of the Gnosis, barely secured her victory at the cost of her life. Zhongli watches as the mortals of Teyvat are freed from the tyranny of the Heavens and at the dawning of a new era with passive eyes on top of Mt. Aozang.
“Ajax would have liked to be part of that battle,” he muses, sipping on Inazuman green tea. “But at least now, he can rest easy knowing that his efforts have aided the Tsaritsa.”
Time marches forward and slowly, the appeal of living among the mortals erodes away. It seems like every time he blinks, new technological advancements are being made. Liyue Harbour’s skyline has been transformed seemingly overnight with large, towering skyscrapers lining the harbour front. Bright fluorescent lights flood the once quaint streets with storefronts he no longer recognizes, the original owners having long since passed away. So, one spring morning when the snow begins to thaw, Zhongli packs his bags, locks up his home, and leaves.
He spends a few years at Jueyun Karst in the company of his dear friends, and when he finds himself growing restless, he packs his old travel bag and leaves Liyue.
He revisits the old route Ajax once took although even that has changed significantly. Inazuma and Sumeru are filled with cities with more shiny skyscrapers and the once unnavigable desert and wildlands of Natlan are now filled with roads. Even the sleepy coastal town where Ajax’s resting place is located has blossomed into a wealthy trading hub.
At least the cemetery remains the same, Zhongli notes as he makes his way up the snow-filled path towards the hill and the grand larch tree on the 500th anniversary of Ajax’s death.
At least his Ajax remains undisturbed.
Except, not quite.
Zhongli goes still. There is something sleeping by the tombstone. The hooded figure has made itself rather comfortable, lying there on its back, legs splayed out with one arm tossed over its stomach. Clearly, it’s not human. For one, it seems completely undisturbed by the winter chill despite dressed in what appears to be a thin layer of fine shimmering cloth with a dark blue hood pulled over its head. For another, Zhongli can sense the strong hydro elemental power emanating from the creature even from a good few paces away.
Zhongli frowns. An elemental spirit? A brazen one at that.
He walks up to it and clears his throat.
“Spirit, I would ask that you find another place to rest,” he says with a tone of reproach, “A cemetery is a place to honour the dead and is not your personal bedroom. The place you’re sleeping also happens to be where someone dear to me is resting, so I would appreciate if you do not disrespect his memory in such a manner.”
The spirit slowly sits up. Although Zhongli cannot make out its features beneath its deep hood, its figure appears to be male.
“Thank you, sir.” He waits for the spirit to stand up and step aside before clearing out the snow beside the tombstone to lay down his travel pack.
“I am back, Ajax,” he greets, reaching over to wipe the snow off the tombstone. There. Neat and tidy. Even after 500 years, the etched words are still crisp thanks to his blessing. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for too long. I had wanted to visit sooner but I’m afraid all these new roads and methods of transportation have gotten me quite turned around. It feels like the world has left this old man behind.”
He reaches for his bag, takes out the sealed box, breaks the seal, and pops open the lid.
“I’ve brought more meat baos for you today. The store has expanded on its line of products, so I also brought some different varieties for you to try, but having tried them all, the original is still the best.”
A hand swipes the box of meat baos from his grasp the moment he finishes his sentence. He whips his head around in time to see that Hydro spirit from before munching on one of the buns with glee.
And Zhongli sees red.
“You,” he growls out and gets up. The ground is tremoring in his rage. “Unhand that box at once! How dare you show such blatant disrespect—”
“Hm, you’re right, the meat bun is tasty,” the spirit says and Zhongli freezes. That voice. He knows it. “But really, Mr. Zhongli. Must you buy one of every single variety? Think of your finances.”
The spirit reaches for its hood and pushes it down. Zhongli is greeted to the sight of shining red hair, dark blue eyes, and a happy smile mixed with just a touch of mischief.
“Ajax,” he breathes. Then, his expression crumbles. “Oh, my dear Ajax.”
“Hello, Mr. Zhongli,” Ajax says with undisguised fondness. “Thank you for waiting for me. I missed you terribly.”
Zhongli closes the last few steps between them and drags him down for a sweet, lingering kiss, sweeter than the taste of fresh tanghulu or even the first days of freedom from a lifetime ago.
Finally. Finally.
“I miss you too.”