The next morning, the air was crisp and clear, a perfect day for flying. There was no slow, formal ascent up the mountain paths. Ganyu and Ren stood in the secluded garden of their home, their feet securely latched onto their respective hoverboards, a shared, excited grin on their faces.
"Ready?" Ren asked, his board humming with a quiet, potential energy.
Ganyu's eyes, usually so full of a gentle, serene calm, now held a bright, competitive sparkle, a side of her that Ren had rarely seen. "Oh, I'm ready," she said, a playful, challenging smirk on her lips. "And just to make it interesting… the last one to the peak has to buy the winner a gift. Anything they want."
"You're on!" Ren laughed.
With a shared, joyous whoop, they shot into the sky, two streaks of gray and qilin-blue against the vast, open canvas of the Liyue sky. The race was a beautiful, exhilarating ballet of high-speed flight. Ren, with his smaller, more agile frame and his more practiced, intuitive control, was a blur of motion, executing sharp, impossible turns. But Ganyu, with her adeptal grace and her powerful, unwavering focus, was a force of pure, streamlined speed.
They zipped past the peaks of Jueyun Karst, their laughter echoing in the misty, silent valleys, a rare, joyous sound in the ancient, sacred mountains.
They arrived at the peak of Mt. Aocang in a near-perfect photo finish, landing in a graceful, synchronized glide, their faces flushed with the exhilaration of the race and the joy of the shared, wonderful moment.
Xianyun and Shenhe were waiting for them, as they always were. A soft, genuine, and deeply, deeply, happy, smile graced Xianyun's lips as they landed. It was a smile not just for Ren's safe return, but for the sight before her. She saw Ganyu, her usually burdened, ever-dutiful disciple, her face alight with a pure, carefree happiness, her laughter echoing a sound that had been absent from these peaks for far too long. She saw the profound, transformative joy that Ren had brought into all of their quiet, eternal lives.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in a warm, happy reunion. They sat at the familiar, stone table, and Ren and Ganyu recounted their grand, chaotic, and ultimately triumphant, adventure in Inazuma.
Ren, of course, brought out his most prized possession: the photo album. He showed them the pictures, his voice full of a proud, happy excitement as he introduced his new friends. He showed them the picture of the blushing Ayaka, of the joyous Yoimiya, of the serene Yae Miko. Shenhe, in her usual, silent way, simply observed, but Ren could see a flicker of a new, profound curiosity in her glacial-blue eyes.
Xianyun listened, her scholar's mind absorbing every detail, her guardian's heart swelling with a quiet, profound pride.
It was during the recounting of the final, epic battle that Ren, in his excited storytelling, let a small, crucial detail slip. "...and then, after the Balladeer blasted me through the wall of the shrine, I was unconscious for two days…"
The cheerful, happy atmosphere on the mountaintop instantly froze.
A profound, deathly silence fell.
Ganyu winced, a look of pure, "oh no, he wasn't supposed to say that" panic on her face.
Xianyun slowly, deliberately, put down the teacup she had been holding. She turned her head, her golden eyes, which had been so full of a warm, maternal pride, now narrowing into two points of cold, sharp, and utterly, terrifyingly, furious, light.
She looked at Ganyu, and her voice was a low, chilling, and incredibly, dangerously, calm, whisper. "He was injured?"
"Master, it was… a minor…" Ganyu began, her voice a weak, desperate squeak.
"Injured," Xianyun repeated, the word a blade of pure, solidified, adeptal wrath. "And you did not see fit to mention this… this critical piece of information… in any of your cheerful reports on the communication sigil?"
She stood up, her movements slow, graceful, and full of a coiled, murderous intent. The air around her began to crackle with a raw, untamed, and very, very, angry, Anemo energy. "The Raiden Shogun," she hissed, her voice a low, dangerous gale. "She allowed this to happen. In her own nation. Under her own watch. An act of profound, unforgivable negligence."
She turned, her gaze fixed on the distant, eastern horizon, towards the storm-wracked islands of Inazuma. "This one has half a mind," she declared, her voice now a rising, furious storm, "to fly there right now and have a very direct, and very destructive, conversation with the god of Eternity about the proper protocols for ensuring the safety of a guest!"
The threat was real. It was absolute. Her rage was palpable around her frame.
"Master, wait!" Ren yelped, scrambling to his feet. "It's okay! I'm fine! Look!"
He knew he had to de-escalate the situation, fast. He held out his hand, and with a sharp, crackling sound, a small, beautiful, and completely harmless, ball of pure, violet, Electro energy materialized in his palm. "See? I'm better than fine! I even got a new power out of it!"
Xianyun froze, her furious, forward momentum halted in an instant. She stared at the crackling, violet energy in his hand, her rage completely, utterly, and instantly, eclipsed by a wave of pure, unadulterated, scientific shock.
She slowly, deliberately, leaned in, her golden eyes wide with a look of dazed, analytical wonder. "A new elemental signature… it is pure. Stable." She looked from the ball of lightning, to Ren's calm, smiling face, and then back again.
The impending, international, and very destructive, diplomatic incident had been averted, replaced by a new, far more interesting, and infinitely less violent, scientific anomaly. The storm had passed, for now, leaving behind only a very curious, and very, very, relieved, silence.