The knowledge of a city teeming with Harbingers settled like a constant, low-grade poison in the air of their home. Ganyu's protectiveness, already at a formidable level, became an almost suffocating presence. She rarely let Ren out of her sight, her gentle gaze now constantly scanning their surroundings for any hint of a threat. The quiet, joyful peace of their life had been tainted by a creeping, shadowy dread.
Ren felt the shift keenly. He loved his sister, but her palpable, ever-present anxiety was beginning to wear on him. More than that, he needed space. He needed to think. The approaching Rite of Descension, the impending arrival of La Signora, the intricate, dangerous game that was about to unfold—he needed to process it all, away from the prying eyes of the Harbor and the well-intentioned but stifling care of his sister.
He knew there was only one place he could find that kind of peace.
"Big sister?" he said one evening, his voice soft. "I… I think I'd like to go back to the mountains for a while. To visit Master."
Ganyu's reaction was immediate, and exactly as he'd predicted. A look of profound, heart-wrenching guilt and understanding washed over her face. She saw his request not as a simple desire to visit, but as a flight from danger. She believed he was terrified, that the encounter with the Balladeer had shattered his sense of safety in the Harbor.
"Of course, Ren," she said, her voice a gentle, sorrowful whisper as she pulled him into a hug. "Of course. The mountains are safer. I should have suggested it myself. I am so sorry you had to experience such a terrible thing."
Her assumption, while not entirely correct, served his purpose. There was no argument, no pleading, only an immediate, sorrowful acceptance.
The next morning, Ganyu did not entrust his journey to anyone else. She personally escorted him, her own adeptal energy allowing them to soar through the air, leaving the complex, dangerous city behind and rising into the clean, clear skies of Jueyun Karst.
The familiar, stark beauty of Mt. Aocang was a welcome sight, a sanctuary of stone and mist. Xianyun, in her elegant human form, was waiting for them at the peak, a look of calm inquiry on her face. Shenhe stood a short distance away, a silent, silver-haired sentinel, her presence as cool and unchanging as the mountain itself.
"Ganyu. Ren," Xianyun greeted them, her golden eyes immediately sensing the heavy atmosphere that surrounded them. "Your arrival is unexpected. Is something amiss?"
There, in the safety of their Master's domain, the story came tumbling out. Ganyu, her voice still trembling with a residual anger, recounted Ren's terrifying encounter with the Balladeer. Ren added the details, describing Sandrone's bizarre intervention and her strange, proprietary attitude.
As they spoke, the two mountain dwellers listened, their reactions a study in contrasts.
Xianyun's face became a mask of cold, analytical fury. The quill she had been holding in her hand snapped in two with a sharp crack, a small, violent testament to her rage. "The Sixth," she said, her voice a low, dangerous hum. "Arrogant. Unstable. To lay a hand on my disciple… an act of profound, immeasurable foolishness." Her gaze was like sharpened ice, and a dangerous, controlled power began to emanate from her.
Shenhe's reaction was far quieter, but no less terrifying. Her already placid expression became utterly, completely still. The crimson ropes that bound her seemed to glow with a faint, malevolent light, and the air around her grew so cold that a thin layer of frost began to form on the stone beneath her feet. She did not speak. She did not move. She simply listened, and a silent, murderous intent, honed by a lifetime of suppressing her own homicidal urges, began to gather around her like a shroud. She was a weapon being unsheathed.
When the story was finished, a heavy, dangerous silence filled the mountaintop.
"The Harbor is no longer safe for him," Ganyu stated, her voice full of a desperate finality. "Not with so many of them moving in the shadows."
Xianyun looked at Ren, at his pale, serious face, and the cold fury in her eyes softened into a deep, protective concern. "You are correct. He will remain here, on the mountain. Under our protection."
She then looked at Shenhe, whose chilling, murderous aura had not dissipated. "Shenhe."
The silver-haired girl's glacial-blue eyes shifted, focusing on her Master.
"You will be his personal guard," Xianyun commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. "While he is on this mountain, you will not leave his side. You will be his shadow. No one, and nothing, will get near him. Is that understood?"
A single, curt nod was Shenhe's only reply. The silent, leashed weapon had just been assigned its sole, sacred target to protect.
Ganyu, though her heart ached at the thought of leaving Ren behind, felt a profound sense of relief. He would not be alone. He would be here, in the safest place in Liyue, guarded by not one, but two of its most powerful adepti.
She gave him one last, tight hug, her heart a mixture of sorrow and gratitude. "Be good, Ren. Listen to Master. I'll visit as often as I can."
"I will, big sister," he promised.
He watched her soar away, a lonely speck of blue against the vast, empty sky, until she was gone. He then turned to face his other family: the brilliant, formidable Master and the silent, deadly sister. He had fled to his mountain sanctuary not just to escape a nest of vipers, but to prepare, in his own quiet way, for the great storm that he knew was about to break over the world.