The world returned to Ren not in a rush, but as a slow, gentle tide. For several days, he drifted in a deep, dreamless, and utterly exhausted sleep, his body and spirit slowly recovering from the immense, world-altering expenditure of power. When he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the familiar, elegant pattern of the ceiling in his own room, and the first thing he felt was the gentle, constant, reassuring presence of his family.
Ganyu was asleep in a chair by his bedside, her head resting on her arms, her face etched with exhaustion but peaceful for the first time in days. Xianyun was standing by the window, looking out at the calm, peaceful harbor, but her attention, he knew, was entirely focused on him.
She turned the moment his eyes fluttered open, and was at his side in an instant. Her expression was a complex, profound mixture of immense relief, deep pride, and stern, maternal disapproval.
"So," she began, her voice a low, controlled murmur, "the hero awakens."
She then proceeded to give him a scolding, but it was a scolding unlike any he had ever received. It was a calm, logical, and utterly terrifying breakdown of the risks he had taken. She spoke of the potential for catastrophic elemental backlash, of the physiological strain of channeling such immense power through a mortal body, of the sheer, statistical improbability of his survival. It was not a lecture born of anger, but of a deep, profound, and scholarly fear.
"Your actions were, by any logical metric, suicidally reckless," she concluded, adjusting her red glasses with a slightly trembling hand. "However," she added, a faint, proud smile finally breaking through her stern facade, "the outcome was… undeniably effective. You saved the Jade Chamber. You saved Liyue Harbor. You have this one's… profound gratitude. And my eternal worry. Do not ever do that again."
The scolding over, the period of intensive, almost suffocating, care began anew. Ganyu, waking the moment she heard his voice, was a constant, tearfully happy presence, plying him with warm broths and fresh fruit. Xianyun personally brewed him restorative adeptal medicines, their taste strange and herbal, but their effects immediate and comforting. He was once again the porcelain prince, the treasured, fragile center of their universe.
A few days into his recovery, a visitor arrived. It was Keqing, her usual sharp, energetic demeanor softened by a look of deep, sincere concern.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice unusually gentle.
"Better," Ren replied honestly. "What… what happened? After?"
Keqing sat, her expression turning grim and business-like. "The fallout has been… significant," she explained. "With Osial defeated and the city safe, Ningguang has moved against the Fatui. She has brought heavy, formal charges against the Northland Bank for their role in the crisis. She's using international law, trade agreements, every tool at her disposal to levy massive financial penalties against them. She's not trying to expel them; she's trying to bankrupt them." It was a classic Ningguang move—a war waged not with swords, but with contracts and mora.
"And Childe?" Ren asked.
"Vanished," Keqing said, a frustrated edge to her voice. "He slipped out of the city in the chaos. He is now officially a persona non grata in Liyue. But the damage is done. The city is safe, but the trust between Liyue and Snezhnaya is shattered."
She then looked at him, a new, profound respect in her amethyst eyes. "Everyone knows what you did, Ren. The story is already becoming a legend. The little boy who stood against a god and saved the Harbor. You are… a hero."
Ren just blushed, the praise still feeling strange and overwhelming.
His most important visitor, however, came a day later. Lumine arrived, looking weary but resolute, Paimon floating quietly, somberly, beside her. She had clearly been through her own profound, world-altering ordeal.
She sat by his bed, and after a few quiet pleasantries, she leaned in, her voice a low, conspiratorial whisper, meant only for him.
"Ren," she began, her golden eyes full of a deep level of understanding, "I know what happened. I know the truth."
She then told him everything. She told him of her confrontation with Childe at the Golden House, of the reveal that the Exuvia was empty, that the Gnosis was not there. She told him of the final, shocking confrontation outside the Northland Bank, where she had been a witness.
"It was Zhongli," she whispered, her voice a mixture of awe and betrayal. "He's Rex Lapis. He was alive this whole time. It was all a test. For Liyue."
Ren listened, his face a mask of calm, feigned surprise.
"And then," Lumine continued, her voice dropping even lower, "La Signora arrived. And he just… gave it to her." She looked at Ren, her eyes full of a profound, baffled confusion. "He had a contract with the Tsaritsa. He gave her the Geo Gnosis. Willingly."
The final, crucial piece of the puzzle had been revealed. The Liyue Archon Quest was over. The Gnosis was gone, the test was complete, and the god of contracts had finally, officially, retired.
Ren looked at Lumine, at the heavy burden of knowledge she now carried, a burden so similar to his own. He reached out and gently patted her hand. "It's a complicated world, isn't it?" he said softly.
"It is," she agreed, a small, weary smile on her face.
They sat in a quiet, shared silence, two outlanders, now both privy to the secret, divine machinations that truly governed the world of Teyvat. The game was growing more complex, the stakes were getting higher, and they both knew that their own journeys were just beginning.