Ren's recovery was a slow, gentle process, made infinitely slower by Ganyu's relentless, suffocating mother-henning. Her fear from the battle had now curdled into a form of hyper-vigilance so intense it was almost comical.
"Don't you dare get out of that bed, Ren!" she would chide, her voice a mixture of sternness and barely-suppressed panic, if he so much as shifted his weight to reach for a glass of water. "Your vital energies are still in a state of flux! You need absolute stillness!"
"Big sister," he would protest weakly, "I'm just thirsty."
"I will get it for you!" she would declare, before rushing to his side, fluffing his pillows, and holding the glass to his lips as if he were a fragile, newborn fawn.
His room became the new social hub of Liyue. A steady stream of visitors came to pay their respects and check on the city's small, quiet hero. Ningguang would visit, bringing him small, intricate puzzles and strategic board games to keep his mind sharp, her teasing now softened by a deep, genuine affection. Madam Ping would bring him calming, fragrant teas and tell him gentle, soothing stories of the old days. Xiangling would appear with new, "restorative" dishes, which, to everyone's relief, were surprisingly mild and delicious, Guoba waddling happily at her heels.
It was Keqing who brought him the most interesting news, her visits a welcome breath of pragmatic, no-nonsense reality amidst Ganyu's constant fretting.
"The Rite of Parting was a success," she reported one afternoon, taking a seat by his bed. "It was… a fitting farewell. A way for the city to formally process its grief and look towards the future."
She then rolled her eyes, a rare, expressive gesture of fond exasperation. "The Traveler, though. She has a flair for the dramatic."
She recounted the final, public scene of the Rite, where she, in her official capacity as the Yuheng, had asked Lumine what reward she sought for her immense contributions to Liyue.
"In front of the entire assembly," Keqing said, a small pout on her lips, "she says all she needs is help putting up 'Missing Person' posters for her brother. Honestly. As if I wouldn't have helped her with that anyway if she had just asked me privately. She didn't need to be so cool and detached about it."
Despite her grumbling, Ren could hear the deep, grudging respect and affection in her voice. Lumine had, in her own quiet, heroic way, completely won over the pragmatic Yuheng.
Keqing then looked at Ren, her expression turning a little more serious, a hint of a proud smile on her face. "You, on the other hand, are causing a different kind of stir."
"I am?" Ren asked, confused.
"Oh, yes," Keqing confirmed. "The stories of what you did on the Jade Chamber have spread throughout the entire city, and beyond. They're already calling you a hero. They've given you a title."
She leaned in, a teasing glint in her amethyst eyes. "You are now, according to the gossip on the wharf, 'Liyue's Azure Savior'."
Ren's face immediately flushed a bright, beet red. "That's… that's a silly name."
"Is it?" Keqing chuckled. "They say a small boy with hair like the midnight sky and eyes as blue as a clear ocean horizon stood against a vengeful god and saved them all with a shield of pure, azure frost. It seems rather fitting to me."
He buried his face in his hands, utterly embarrassed. He hadn't wanted a title. He hadn't wanted to be a hero. He had just wanted to save his friends, to save Ningguang's home.
Ganyu, who had been listening from the doorway, just smiled, her heart swelling with a pride so immense it felt like it could fill the entire room. Her little brother, her quiet, sweet Ren, was now a legend, his name whispered with the same reverence as the adepti of old. He was no longer just her little brother; he was Liyue's, a beloved, cherished hero in his own right. And she would make absolutely, positively sure that this hero got all the rest he needed, even if she had to tie him to the bed to do it.