Ren's feet felt like lead as he walked back to the guesthouse, the cheerful sounds of the celebrating village now a distant, muffled hum. The cold, metal disk in his pocket felt like a brand, a secret, dangerous connection to a world of shadows and plots he wanted no part of. La Signora in Mondstadt. The timeline was no longer an abstract concept; it was a ticking clock.
He slid the door to his room open, his mind a maelstrom of fear and calculation. The sight that greeted him snapped him out of his reverie.
Keqing was standing in the middle of the room, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, her amethyst eyes narrowed with a sharp, protective intensity. Lingshan was behind her, looking pale and worried.
"Ren! Where were you?" Keqing demanded, her voice a low, urgent whisper. "Lingshan said you slipped out. In a village this remote, with the forest so close, you can't just…" She stopped, her eyes catching the look on his face. The usual bright, innocent light was gone, replaced by a shadow of something deep and unsettling.
"What happened?" she asked, her tone shifting from scolding to serious. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Ren took a deep breath, his small hands clenched into fists. He knew he couldn't keep this a secret. Keqing was the Yuheng. She had to know.
"Worse than a ghost," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Sandrone. The Fatui Harbinger. She was here."
The name dropped into the quiet room like a block of ice. Lingshan gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Keqing's face went rigid, her expression turning into a mask of cold fury and alarm.
"Here? In Qingce?" she hissed. "What did she want? Did she threaten you?"
"No," Ren said, shaking his head. "She was… polite. She said she saw the fight and my heater demonstration. She was curious. We just… talked. About engineering." He pulled the Fatui communicator from his pocket and placed it on the table. "She gave me this."
Keqing stared at the crimson, glowing disk as if it were a venomous snake. The fact that a Harbinger had not only approached Ren but had engaged him in a technical discussion and given him a personal communication device was a strategic anomaly of the highest order. It was baffling. It was terrifying.
"Did she say anything else?" Keqing pressed, her mind already racing through the geopolitical implications.
Ren hesitated for only a second. "She said… she said La Signora is going to Mondstadt. In a month."
Keqing's eyes narrowed. That was a significant piece of intelligence. The movements of the Harbingers were always precursors to major events.
She was silent for a long moment, processing the immense, dangerous weight of this new information. Finally, she let out a slow, controlled breath and came to a decision. She turned to the still-shaken attendant. "Lingshan, you may retire for the night. I will stay with Ren."
"But, Lady Keqing…" Lingshan began.
"That is an order," Keqing said, her voice leaving no room for argument.
After Lingshan had gone, leaving the two of them alone, Keqing's stern, official demeanor softened. She looked at Ren, at the lingering fear in his eyes, and a wave of fierce protectiveness washed over her. He had faced down a Harbinger alone, and he was still just a child.
The room had two separate bedrolls. Keqing looked at them, then at Ren. "I don't think it's wise for you to be alone tonight," she stated, her tone practical, as if she were discussing troop deployments. She then picked up her own bedroll and placed it right next to his, so close they were touching.
When it was time to sleep, she lay down, her back to him for a moment, her cheeks flushing a faint, uncharacteristic pink in the dim lantern light. Then, with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like she was trying to convince herself, she turned and hesitantly wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. His small body fit perfectly against hers.
"For your protection," she mumbled into his hair, her voice a little too quick. "A Harbinger in the area… it's only logical to take precautions."
Ren, nestled in the surprising warmth of her embrace, felt the tension and fear of the night finally begin to recede. He knew her excuse was flimsy at best, but he didn't care. He felt safe. He felt protected. He closed his eyes and, for the first time since his moonlit conversation, drifted into a peaceful sleep.
The return journey to Liyue Harbor was marked by a new, unspoken tension. Keqing was more vigilant than ever, her hand never straying far from her sword. They visited a few more small settlements along the way, and while Ren performed his duties with his usual charm and brilliance, the shadow of the Harbinger's presence lingered in the back of his mind.
Their route took them past the towering silhouette of the Wangshu Inn.
"Let's pause here for lunch," Keqing announced, her gaze sweeping the area. "The high ground will give us a good vantage point."
The inn was a familiar, comforting sight. As they enjoyed a meal on one of the lower balconies, Ren felt a sudden, intense gaze upon him. He looked up, towards the very highest point of the inn, the solitary lookout post.
A figure was standing there, his arms crossed, his teal-streaked hair ruffled by the wind. His golden, cat-like eyes were fixed on Ren with an unnerving, piercing intensity. It was Xiao, the last of the Yakshas.
Before Ren could even react, the figure vanished in a swirl of black and green smoke. A moment later, a faint whisper of wind brushed past him, and Xiao was standing on their balcony, a few feet away, his presence so sudden and silent it made even Keqing jump.
The adeptus ignored everyone else. His gaze was locked solely on Ren. "You are Ren," he stated, his voice a low, ancient rasp.
"Yes," Ren replied, his voice calm, his heart surprisingly steady.
"Rex Lapis wished for me to meet you," Xiao said, his tone flat, emotionless. "He said you possess a… commendable spirit."
Keqing looked between the ancient, world-weary Yaksha and the small, calm child, completely baffled by the situation.
Ren looked at the fearsome, legendary Guardian Yaksha, at the centuries of pain and solitude in his golden eyes, and he did not feel fear. He felt a deep, profound empathy.
"It's nice to meet you, Xiao," Ren said, and he offered a small, genuine smile.
The simple, friendly greeting seemed to throw the adeptus completely off balance. Xiao's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of pure, unadulterated surprise in their depths. Mortals feared him. They revered him. They prayed to him from a distance. They did not greet him with the casual warmth one would offer a friend.
"You are not afraid of me?" Xiao asked, his voice laced with a genuine, ancient confusion.
Ren shook his head. "Why would I be?" he asked, his logic simple and absolute. He looked at the being who had fought demons for millennia, who had sacrificed everything to protect the people of Liyue. "After all," he said, his voice soft but full of an unshakeable conviction, "you're a protector. You're a hero."
The words, so pure, so sincere, struck the ancient Yaksha with a force greater than any demonic onslaught. He, who was so often defined by the darkness he fought, by the karmic debt that haunted him, was being called a hero by a child who looked at him not with fear, but with understanding.
Xiao was silent for a long, profound moment. A thousand years of battle, of pain, of solitude, seemed to recede, just for a second, in the face of that simple, powerful truth. He gave a single, almost imperceptible nod.
"...Hmph," was all he said, before vanishing in another swirl of Anemo, leaving Keqing staring in stunned silence and Ren feeling as though he had just passed another, even more important, test.