The journey back to Mt. Aocang was a gentle, almost reverent flight. Xianyun held Ren not with her usual efficient grace, but with an added layer of painstaking care, as if he were a delicate instrument that might shatter with the slightest jolt. The familiar, crisp mountain air felt wonderful against his skin, a clean, invigorating change from the humid, bustling atmosphere of the Harbor.
Upon their arrival, however, it became clear that a change of scenery did not mean a change in his status as a patient.
"Your resting phase continues," Xianyun declared, her tone firm as she settled him into a comfortable nook in her workshop, lined with soft cushions and warm blankets. "The mountain's restorative energies will accelerate your healing, but the primary objective remains stabilization. There will be no work. There will be no exertion. And," she added, her golden eyes fixing on him with an intensity that brooked no argument, "there will be absolutely no experimentation with elemental energy. We will not begin to investigate the anomaly until your body is fully recovered. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Master," Ren replied meekly. He had no intention of disobeying, but the enforced idleness was beginning to chafe at his active mind.
The days on the mountain were quiet and profoundly peaceful. He would watch Xianyun work on the refrigerator prototype, observing as she meticulously crafted her new ceramic composites and forged the intricate network of cooling conduits. He would listen to the whisper of the wind, the distant call of an eagle, and the soft, rhythmic hum of his Master's inventions.
It was during these long, quiet hours of rest and observation that he began to feel it.
It started as a faint, internal hum, a subtle vibration deep within his bones that he would only notice in moments of perfect stillness. Then, it grew into a distinct sensation. It was a coolness, a gentle, pervasive chill that was not uncomfortable. It wasn't the biting cold of winter or the clammy feeling of being unwell. It was the exact same feeling he had experienced in the fleeting seconds before he lost consciousness—the sensation of the Cryo energy from Ganyu's lotus, not as an external force, but as an internal, integral part of him. It was a quiet, still, and strangely calming presence.
He said nothing to Xianyun. He knew, with an instinct he couldn't explain, that telling her would only result in more examinations, more restrictions, more being treated like a fragile object. This feeling… it was his. A secret to be explored with caution.
One afternoon, Xianyun was engrossed in a particularly complex piece of welding on the refrigerator's frame, her back to him, her focus absolute. Ren was lying on his cushioned pallet, the workshop quiet save for the soft hiss of adeptal energy. He felt the familiar coolness stirring within him, a gentle current flowing just beneath his skin.
Curiosity, that powerful, driving force that had led him to this world and sparked his inventions, overwhelmed his caution.
Slowly, tentatively, he raised his right hand, holding it palm-up before his face. He didn't try to force anything. He didn't try to command the power. He simply… focused. He concentrated on that internal coolness, inviting it to the surface.
At first, nothing happened. Then, a single, shimmering mote of light, like a speck of dust catching the sun, appeared in the air just above his palm. It was a tiny, perfect snowflake, glowing with a soft, blue-white light. It hovered for a moment before melting into nothing.
Ren's breath caught in his throat. His heart hammered against his ribs. It was real.
He took a slow, calming breath, his mind racing. He had no Vision. He had no training. But the power was there, an echo of what he had absorbed from Ganyu.
He thought back to that moment, to the image that had been burned into his memory just before everything went dark: the beautiful, intricate ice lotus blooming in his sister's hand. The image was so clear, so perfect.
He raised his hand again. This time, he didn't just focus on the feeling; he focused on the image. He envisioned it. He pictured the delicate, crystalline petals, the gentle, swirling light, the perfect symmetry.
The response was immediate and overwhelming.
A stream of brilliant, turquoise and white particles erupted from his palm. It was not a violent burst, but a graceful, controlled torrent of pure Cryo energy, flowing like water and swirling like smoke. The particles danced and coalesced, weaving together in the air with an impossible, silent precision. Petal by delicate, translucent petal, a structure began to form, sculpted from pure, solidified cold.
In the space of a few seconds, it was complete.
Hovering above his hand, radiating a gentle, chilling aura and glowing with a soft, internal luminescence, was a perfect ice lotus.
It was not a copy. It was not a pale imitation. It was an exact, flawless recreation of the one Ganyu had summoned. The size, the shape, the intricate crystalline structure—every detail was identical. It was as if he had reached into his memory and pulled the very same lotus out into the real world.
He stared, his mind reeling, his glowing azure eyes wide with a mixture of terror and absolute, profound wonder. The power hadn't just become a part of him. He could control it. He could shape it. And he had done it with an ease and precision that should have taken a Vision bearer years of dedicated practice to master.
The lotus hovered, stable and perfect, a silent, beautiful testament to the impossible secret now resting in the palm of his hand. He had a power he didn't understand, a power he was explicitly forbidden from exploring, and he had just proven that he was a natural. The implications were staggering, and the quiet, peaceful days of his recovery were officially over.