That night, the house on Feiyun Slope was filled with a palpable sense of accomplishment. The warmth from the heater seemed to glow a little brighter, a cozy testament to the successful meeting in the heavens. Ganyu, her heart still soaring with pride, couldn't stop looking at Ren with a mixture of awe and overwhelming affection.
As they sat together after dinner, she put down the document she had been half-heartedly reading and gave him her full attention.
"I did something today, Ren," she said, her voice soft but full of a new, decisive confidence. "I sent a message to Master. A Millelith guard, one of the outriders, is carrying it to Mt. Aocang. I explained what happened in your meeting with Lady Ningguang and told her that the Tianquan is ready to discuss a formal partnership whenever she is."
She reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of blue-streaked hair from his forehead. "I also told her how incredibly brave and brilliant you were. How you spoke not for yourself, but for everyone. I am so, so proud of you, little brother."
Her words were a warm, comforting blanket, and Ren felt a genuine flush of happiness. He had been playing a part, using his knowledge to manipulate events, but the positive results, the praise from his new family… that was real, and it felt wonderful. "Thank you, big sister. I just hope Master agrees."
"She will," Ganyu said with absolute certainty. "This invention brings comfort and safety to mortals, without relying on adeptal power. It is everything she and… and her old friends always dreamed of."
With the next move now in Xianyun's hands, a sense of calm settled over the house. The next few days fell back into a familiar, pleasant routine. Ren would spend his mornings meticulously working on the final draft of the heater blueprint. He was in the optimization phase now, adding detailed notes on forging temperatures for the coil, suggesting specific types of lacquer for the wooden housing to improve its durability, and drawing an expanded, easy-to-read diagram of the regulator dial.
His afternoons were for the Harbor. He was no longer just a visitor; he was becoming a part of the city's fabric. He'd spend time with Madam Ping, whose stories were a soothing balm. He'd help Xiangling taste-test a new soup (which thankfully wasn't that spicy this time), and he'd sit and scratch Guoba behind the ears, a ritual the Stove God now seemed to anticipate with happy little grunts. His silent Millelith escort was a constant, comforting presence, a subtle sign of his big sister's ever-watchful care.
One afternoon, as Ganyu was preparing to head back to the Yuehai Pavilion after her lunch break, she hesitated at the door. She looked at Ren, who was deeply engrossed in drawing the final, intricate schematic for the fan's motor. A hopeful, slightly shy look entered her eyes.
"Ren," she began, "I know you're busy, but… I was wondering. Would you… like to come with me? To my office? You could bring your work with you. It's quiet there, and… I just like having you close by."
The invitation was so full of a simple, heartfelt desire for his company that Ren couldn't possibly refuse. He looked up from his blueprint, his face breaking into a wide, brilliant smile. "I'd love to, big sister!"
Ganyu's entire being seemed to light up.
Walking into the Yuehai Pavilion at Ganyu's side was a completely different experience from his first visit. Before, he had been an unknown, a curiosity. Now, as he walked in holding his sister's hand, the quiet, efficient secretaries and administrators all looked up. They would see him, and their formal, professional expressions would soften. A small, respectful smile would touch their lips, and they would give a slight bow that was directed as much at him as it was at Ganyu. They all knew the story now, the tale of the Secretary's mysterious, adorable little brother who had single-handedly cured her of her workaholism.
Ganyu's office was a neat, organized space, dominated by her large mahogany desk, which, for once, was not completely buried in scrolls. Her subordinates, seemingly anticipating this, quickly and quietly brought in a small, child-sized table and chair, placing it near Ganyu's desk but out of the way of foot traffic.
Ren settled in, unrolling his blueprint, and soon became lost in the intricate details of his work. The vast, quiet hall was filled with the soft, rhythmic sounds of governance—the scratching of brushes on parchment, the soft rustle of paper, the quiet, respectful murmur of officials discussing policy. It was a peaceful, productive atmosphere, and Ren found he could concentrate quite well.
He watched his sister work. He saw the Ganyu that the rest of Liyue saw. She was focused, efficient, and possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of Liyue's laws and logistics. He watched as a stern-looking official from the Ministry of Civil Affairs came to her with a complex issue regarding grain distribution, and she, without consulting a single document, recited the relevant clauses of three different trade agreements from memory, offering a solution that was both elegant and perfectly lawful. She was brilliant.
But she was also his big sister. Every fifteen minutes or so, she would pause, her work forgotten for a moment, and her gaze would drift over to him. She'd watch him as he drew, a soft, secret smile on her face, before her attention was pulled back to a pressing document. That small, repeated gesture was a silent, constant reassurance: You are here. I am happy.
After a while, Ren finished the final section of his blueprint. He leaned back, stretching his small arms, and let his gaze wander around the office. He looked at the neat stacks of scrolls, the meticulously organized shelves, the elegant calligraphy brush resting by her inkstone. And then he saw it.
Hanging on the wall directly in her line of sight, pinned with four small, tasteful tacks, was a piece of slightly smudged drawing paper. It was his portrait of her.
It was placed in the most prominent position in her entire workspace. Anyone who came to speak with her at her desk would see it. It was a simple, childish drawing amidst a world of formal, official documents. It was a declaration. It was a treasure she had chosen to display for all the world to see.
Ren stared at his own handiwork, and a profound, quiet warmth spread through his chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with heaters or pyro crystals. It was the warmth of being truly, deeply, and unconditionally loved. He looked over at his big sister, who was now frowning in concentration at a particularly tricky tax law, and a wide, happy smile spread across his face. He was exactly where he belonged.