While Ren's mind was busy subtly reshaping the economic and spiritual landscape of Liyue, his afternoons were still dedicated to the quiet, personal art of his Cryo powers. The garden of their home on Feiyun Slope had become a sanctuary for his practice, but he was beginning to feel its limitations. His shields, growing in size and power, needed a larger space to be tested, and his flash-freezing techniques required more dynamic, unpredictable targets than stationary training dummies.
Ganyu, ever attuned to his needs, recognized this. "Your control is flawless, Ren," she said one afternoon, after he had effortlessly created a complex, multi-layered ice dome that was both beautiful and incredibly resilient. "But control is only one half of the equation. You need to learn to react, to apply your skills under pressure in an unfamiliar environment."
And so, his training moved beyond the garden walls. Several times a week, they would venture to the outskirts of the harbor, to the secluded, rocky beaches and quiet, forested areas near the base of Mt. Tianheng. These trips became a new, cherished routine.
Sometimes, Ganyu would come with him. These were the sessions focused on pure elemental mastery. She would teach him the deeper, more subtle aspects of Cryo—how to feel the faintest traces of Hydro in the air to make his freezing more efficient, how to draw upon the inherent cold of the earth and stone to strengthen his constructs. She was a gentle, patient teacher, her guidance a soft murmur of encouragement, but her tests were rigorous. She would launch a volley of frostflake arrows at him from unexpected angles, forcing him to react instantaneously, his shields erupting from the ground with a crystalline shing to block her attacks.
More often than not, however, their training sessions were joined by a flash of purple lightning. Keqing, having heard of their excursions, had taken it upon herself to join them whenever her punishing schedule as the Yuheng allowed.
"A strong defense is useless if it cannot withstand a relentless offense," she would state, her tone that of a seasoned, pragmatic drill sergeant as she drew her sword, its blade already crackling with Electro energy. "Ganyu is too gentle with you. Let's see how your ice walls hold up against a real storm."
Keqing's involvement transformed the training from a graceful, adeptal art into a high-stakes, high-speed combat drill. She was a whirlwind of motion, a relentless barrage of lightning-fast strikes. She would test his defenses from every conceivable angle, forcing him to think tactically, to anticipate her movements.
"Too slow!" she would shout as her sword shattered a hastily formed shield. "Your reaction time is good, but your placement was predictable. I could have simply gone around it."
Ren, at first, was overwhelmed by her speed and aggression. But he was a remarkably fast learner. He began to watch her feet, not her sword, learning to read the subtle shifts in her stance to predict her next move. His shields became smaller, more efficient, appearing at the exact point of impact at the last possible second. He learned to create slick, frictionless patches of ice on the ground to disrupt her charges, and to form complex, angled barriers that would deflect her attacks rather than just absorbing them.
His two "sisters" were the perfect, complementary training partners. Ganyu taught him the soul of his power, its grace and its stillness. Keqing taught him its application, its speed and its tactical necessity. They both made sure, with a fierce, unwavering vigilance, that his training was always safe. They used blunted weapons, and the moment a drill seemed to be getting too intense, they would immediately stop. Their primary goal was not to turn him into a warrior, but to ensure he had the skills to survive.
He was never learning to hurt, only to defend and to immobilize. His flash-freezing, under Keqing's relentless pressure, became a tool of incredible precision. She would dart in, a blur of motion, and he would have to react, not by freezing her entire body, but by encasing just her sword hand in a block of ice, or freezing the ground beneath her lunging foot. It was a test of reflexes and fine motor control that was more difficult than any offensive attack.
The three of them, the gentle adeptus, the lightning-fast Yuheng, and the quiet, brilliant boy, would be a strange, powerful sight on the outskirts of Liyue. They were a family forged not just in the warmth of a home, but in the cold, sharp discipline of training, their bonds strengthened with every shattered shield and every perfectly executed defense. Ren was not just being taught; he was being forged, his gentle power tempered by the love of a sister and the respect of a warrior, into something beautiful, and unbreakable.