The next morning, the now-familiar ritual of departure played out, but the emotional tenor was entirely different. There was no sadness, no clinging goodbyes, only a sense of shared purpose.
Xianyun, clutching the refrigerator blueprint as if it were a sacred text, was alight with a quiet, scholarly excitement. "The principles of cryo energy transference will have unique properties. The insulation will need to be redesigned to combat condensation. Fascinating," she mused, her mind already deep within the workshop on Mt. Aocang.
Shenhe stood beside her, a silent pillar of silver and ice. Before leaving, she looked at the bustling city streets with a clear, undisguised distaste. "The air here is thick. The sounds are a chaotic jumble. The mountains are quiet. I prefer the mountains." It was one of the longest, most opinionated statements Ren had ever heard her make.
She then looked down at Ren, her glacial eyes holding his for a moment. "Do not wander into dark alleys. Your situational awareness is poor." It was the closest she could come to saying 'be safe'.
Ren just smiled up at her. "I will, big sister Shenhe." The title still felt strange on his tongue, but he saw a flicker, the barest hint of a micro-expression in her eyes, before she turned away.
With a final nod, Xianyun and Shenhe took to the skies, leaving Ren once again in the care of Liyue Harbor and his other, much warmer, big sister.
The days that followed were, for Ren, a perfect blend of productivity and simple, joyful living. He set up a small workspace in a corner of the main room, his papers and charcoal sticks neatly arranged. He would spend hours engrossed in his work, meticulously redrawing the heater blueprint. He added cross-sections, detailed material lists, and step-by-step assembly instructions, writing the annotations in a clear, simple script that any craftsman could understand. He designed the more compact housing, sketching out the internal ceramic insulation and the rubber-like sealant around the crystal port with a focused precision that belied his age.
But it was not all work. The true joy of his time in the Harbor was Ganyu.
Ganyu, for her part, was a woman transformed. Her colleagues at the Yuehai Pavilion were baffled. The perpetually overworked, often-exhausted Secretary Ganyu now finished her duties with a strange, almost frightening efficiency. She no longer stayed late, poring over documents until midnight. The moment her official duties were concluded, she would be gone, a soft, happy smile on her face, leaving her coworkers staring in stunned silence.
Her destination was always home. The moment she stepped through the gate of the house on Feiyun Slope, her formal, professional demeanor would melt away. She would find Ren, and her entire being would soften.
"How was your day, Ren?" she'd ask, her voice full of a genuine, eager interest as she helped him put away his drawings for the evening.
She was an affectionate, ever-present source of comfort. If Ren was sketching, she would sit nearby, doing her own paperwork, just to be in the same room. If he was reading one of the books Xianyun had left for him, she would find a reason to sit on the same couch, their shoulders just barely touching. She was a constant, warm presence, a silent and loving guardian who seemed to be making up for centuries of loneliness, all at once.
One afternoon, Ren found her at the main table, a mountain of official scrolls in front of her, a frown of concentration on her face. She was so engrossed, she didn't notice him watching. He quietly got his drawing supplies, sat down at a distance, and began to sketch. He drew her just as she was: the elegant curve of her neck, the way a stray strand of dark blue hair fell across her cheek, the focused intensity in her amethyst eyes, the slight, endearing smudge of ink on her finger. It wasn't a perfect, lifelike portrait, but it captured her essence, her quiet dedication and gentle beauty.
When he showed it to her, she stared at it for a full minute, her eyes growing wide and misty. She carefully took the drawing, her hands trembling slightly, and held it as if it were a priceless treasure. She didn't say anything; she just pulled him into a soft, gentle hug that was full of a thousand unspoken words of love and gratitude.
But Ren couldn't stay in the house all the time. The city was a vast, exciting playground, and he was a curious ten-year-old. Ganyu, buried as she was in her Qixing duties, couldn't always accompany him. The thought of him wandering the bustling city alone, however, filled her with a level of anxiety that was detrimental to her paperwork.
So, she had taken a quiet, executive action. Without telling Ren, she had a brief, formal meeting with the captain of the Millelith guards who patrolled the upper districts.
"My younger brother," she had explained, her tone polite but unyielding, "will be spending time around Yujing Terrace and Chihu Rock. He is… curious. I would consider it a personal favor if your patrols could maintain a discreet, non-intrusive awareness of his location and well-being."
The captain, a stern, battle-hardened man, had simply snapped to attention. "Lady Ganyu, consider it done. He will be the safest child in all of Liyue."
Ren was not informed of this arrangement, but he wasn't oblivious. He was, after all, exceptionally observant.
When he went out, he noticed things.
He would visit Madam Ping, sitting with her for hours listening to her gentle stories. As he walked through the glades of Yujing Terrace, he would notice a pair of Millelith guards, who were supposed to be standing sentinel at a pavilion entrance, now somehow patrolling a path that just happened to overlook his own. Their gazes would casually sweep past him, lingering for just a fraction of a second too long.
He would go down to Wanmin Restaurant, his official role now being Xiangling's "Number One Taste-Tester." She would present him with her latest, often bizarre, culinary creations. As he sat at the table, bravely sampling a dish of slime condensate mixed with Jueyun Chili, he would notice a Millelith guard, who was usually stationed at the district entrance, now intensely fascinated by a display of pottery in a shop across the street—a shop that gave him a perfect line of sight to Ren.
He even took to petting Guoba, who would waddle out and greet him with a happy grunt whenever he was near. He'd sit on the steps, stroking the Stove God's warm, furry head, and see a guard on the far side of the street suddenly stop to retie a bootlace that didn't seem to need retying.
It wasn't intrusive. It wasn't overbearing. It was just… a presence. A silent, watchful bubble of security that followed him wherever he went. He was never approached, never spoken to by them, but he was always seen. He knew, with an amused certainty, that this was Ganyu's doing. His big sister, unable to be there herself, had mobilized a small, subtle detachment of the Liyue army to be his personal bodyguards.
The realization didn't annoy him. It filled him with a deep, profound warmth. He was so loved, so cherished, that the very guardians of the city were tasked with ensuring his safety as he went about his day. He was Ganyu's little brother, and in Liyue Harbor, that was a title that came with its own invisible, ever-present honor guard.