Ren
The noise inside Wanmin Restaurant was loud enough to rattle the chopsticks on the table.
Outside, the last traces of orange had faded from the sky, leaving the harbor in a deep, lantern-lit twilight, but inside the restaurant, it was bright, chaotic, and loud.
The air was filled with the scent of searing oil, garlic, and enough Jueyun Chilis to knock out a horse.
Ren wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead, his face hovering over a half-empty bowl of Jueyun Chili Chicken.
The spice was relentless—numbing his lips and making his eyes water—but he kept eating. The physical burn was grounding, a needed distraction from the lingering terror of his encounter with Ganyu earlier that evening.
Across the table, Chongyun sat in serene silence, eating a bowl of Cold Noodles with Mountain Delicacies.
He looked like he was sitting in a freezer. While Ren was practically melting into a puddle, Chongyun didn't have a single drop of sweat on him.
"You are going to burn a hole in your stomach," Chongyun noted, pausing to watch Ren down a glass of water in one gulp.
"It cleanses the soul," Ren wheezed, his voice raspy. "Or at least, it burns away the fear. You should try it."
"I value my constitution," Chongyun replied, picking up a slice of chilled cucumber. "And I prefer my stomach lining intact."
Ren snorted, picking up another piece of chicken. He was about to retort when the kitchen curtains flew open.
Xiangling popped out, wiping her hands on an apron that looked like a modern art painting of sauce stains. Guoba trotted closely behind her, chewing on a spicy pepper.
"Table four—Oh, Ren and Chongyun! Is the spice level okay? Do you need more oil?"
Ren froze mid-chew. His chopsticks hovered an inch from his mouth.
Xiangling bounded over to their table, beaming with an energy that rivaled the raging fires in the kitchen.
"It's perfect, Xiangling," Chongyun said politely. "Ren was just saying it's cleansing his soul."
"That's what I like to hear!" Xiangling clapped her hands. She turned her amber eyes to Ren, sparkling with a terrifying intensity. "And how are you, Ren? I haven't seen your little shadow puppies around lately. Did you bring them? I have some leftover bones from the stock pot!"
Ren instinctively clenched his stomach muscles, pulling his Cursed Energy tight against his body.
Most people in Liyue were wary of his Ten Shadows Technique. They saw the black, wolf-like beasts and thought they were evil spirits, or monsters of the abyss.
Even the people who couldn't see curses still felt an urge to stay away from his shikigami.
It made sense, as they were shikigami conjured with Cursed Energy. But it still irked him that his Divine Dogs were treated like that.
Though it still surprises him how so many people could actually see his shikigami.
Xiangling being one of those people.
She was the only person who had looked at Vader and Yoda, tilted her head, and asked, "Do you think their texture is closer to venison or gelatin?"
Ever since that day, the dogs refused to manifest within a two-block radius of Wanmin Restaurant.
They knew a predator when they saw one.
"They're... resting," Ren lied. "Sleeping. Really deep inside the shadows, even I can't wake them up."
"Aww, shame," Xiangling pouted. Then, she perked up, reaching into her apron. "Well, since you're here, I wanted you to try this! It's a new appetizer I'm workshopping. Complimentary!"
She placed a small plate on the table. On it wiggled a pile of translucent, orange cubes covered in a sticky glaze.
'How did she fit a plate inside her apron???'
"Pyro Slime Condensate with a honey-glaze reduction!" she announced proudly.
Ren looked at the slime. The slime wobbled back at him.
"Thank you, Chef," Ren said, picking up his chopsticks with the grim determination of a soldier marching to his doom. "I'm sure it's... explosive."
"Let me know what you think!" Xiangling chirped, then spun around and dashed back into the kitchen to yell at her father about wok temperatures.
Ren stared at the slime for a long moment, then shoved it into his mouth and swallowed without chewing.
"You are brave," Chongyun commented, looking impressed.
"I'm terrified," Ren corrected, reaching for his water again to wash down the strange, sugary heat. "If I didn't eat it, she might have tried to cook me next."
He took a moment to let the sugar and slime settle in his stomach. Even if it was really odd to eat slime, it still tasted delicious.
"Oh yeah, didn't she ask you to bring a package for her to Wangshu Inn?"
Ren nodded, taking a moment to swallow another bite before talking. "Yeah, but I didn't take the job."
"Why?"
He shuddered. "Don't like that place…"
"Why?"
"No particular reason…"
"..."
"..."
"Ok…"
Once his heart rate dropped back to normal, Ren leaned forward, resting his elbows on the sticky table.
"So, since we're talking about spirits and weird energy... I have a question."
Chongyun looked up from his noodles. "Regarding your condition?"
"No, not me. Just... theory." Ren lowered his voice slightly, glancing around at the other diners to make sure no one was eavesdropping.
"In your exorcism books, or the old family records... have you ever read about spirits that can teleport? Or maybe adepti arts that let people travel instantly?"
Ren held his breath. He had been looking for a way home for seven months. He knew planes didn't exist here, and he hadn't seen any cars or trains.
But this was a world of magic. If he could find something that moved people across space, he could figure out how to move across dimensions.
Chongyun hummed, tapping his chin with his chopsticks. "You'd have more luck asking Yanfei about anything Adepti related—"
"Nuh uh!"
"—But, teleportation... It is a common ability in olden tales, but in practice? It is rare."
"But it exists?" Ren pressed.
"Yes… Some of those who possess Visions can develop some form of teleportation, but I know that's not what you're asking for. The most documented are the Teleport Waypoints," Chongyun explained.
Ren frowned. "Teleport Waypoints? You mean those weird red devices on the roadsides?"
He had seen them during his deliveries. Strange, hovering monuments made of stone and red crystal.
He had tried touching one once, but nothing happened. He assumed they were just religious statues or works of art.
"Yes," Chongyun nodded. "My clan has records of them. They say that in the ancient past, people used a network of waypoints to travel Teyvat in the blink of an eye."
Ren's heart skipped a beat. "That's it! Do you know how to use them? Do exorcists use them?"
Chongyun looked at him with a confused expression. "Use them? Ren, those are ancient relics. They have been dormant for thousands of years."
Ren felt the hope deflate in his chest. "Dormant?"
"Completely," Chongyun nodded, slurping a noodle. "The art was lost during the Archon War, or perhaps even before that. Now? They are just odd monuments. No Vision bearer I know can activate them. They are just... stone and dead magic."
"Right," Ren whispered, sinking back into his chair. "Dead magic. Of course."
He stared into his bowl of half-eaten chili chicken. He should have expected that. If there was a magical fast-travel network, surely the Qixing would be using it for logistics. The fact that they used carts and ships meant the magic was broken.
'And those stupid transport balloons,' Archons knows he hates those.
"Why do you ask?" Chongyun tilted his head. "Do you need to deliver something very quickly?"
"Something like that," Ren murmured, forcing a weak smile. "You know me. Swift and Secure."
/ — /
Ren pushed open the heavy wooden door of his apartment, the rusted hinges protesting with a familiar squeal.
He stepped inside and locked it behind him.
His apartment was small, situated on the second floor of a building near the northern wharf. It was clean but impersonal.
There were no paintings on the walls, no vases of flowers, no personal trinkets gathering dust on the shelves.
It looked less like a home and more like a hotel room occupied by someone who was ready to leave at a moment's notice.
Ren kicked off his boots and tossed his bag onto the single wooden table.
"Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
Slowly, a dark barrier formed and covered his room, ensuring his privacy.
He smirked. It had taken him a while to master the technique to cover just his room, but it was worth it.
"Alright," he whispered to the empty room. "Coast is clear."
He clasped his hands together, interlacing his fingers in a specific sign.
"Divine Dog."
Two shadows erupted from the floor.
Vader, the black hound, materialized first, shaking his fur as if he had just stepped out of a lake. Yoda, the white hound, followed a second later, letting out a soft yip before tackling Ren's legs.
Ren let out a breathy laugh. He dropped to his knees, burying his hands in their thick, inky fur. They were the only things in this world that truly belonged to him.
"Yeah, I missed you too," Ren murmured, scratching Vader behind the ears while Yoda nudged his hand aggressively. "Sorry about the restaurant. I know you're still scared of her, but she means no harm."
The two dogs raised an eyebrow.
"Ok, I'm like 90% sure she doesn't actually want to eat you."
He stood up, walking over to the small kitchenette. He pulled out a paper-wrapped bundle of leftovers—smoked fowl and rice. He tossed the meat into two ceramic bowls on the floor.
"Here's a treat," he said. "Even if you don't need to eat, having snacks is never a bad thing"
As the dogs ate with enthusiastic slobbering noises, Ren sat on the edge of his bed. He reached under his pillow and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook.
He opened it to the latest page. His handwriting was messy, a mix of English and Japanese kanji that no one in Teyvat could read even if they stole it.
Probably.
~~Northland Bank Heist (If I need money, last resort.)~~ ~~Get to Celestia (Literal suicide, can't fly.)~~ ~~Find the Archon (Rex Lapis only descends once a year)~~ Teleport Waypoints?
Ren stared at the last entry. He picked up a pen and drew a thick, heavy line through it.
"Dead magic," he muttered, copying Chongyun's words into the margin.
He sighed, tossing the notebook onto the nightstand. That was another week of hope gone. He flopped back onto the mattress, staring up at the wooden ceiling beams.
The silence of the room pressed in on him. Outside, he could hear the faint sounds of the harbor—drunken sailors singing, the creak of ships—but they felt a million miles away.
Vader finished his meal and trotted over, resting his heavy head on Ren's stomach. Yoda jumped up, curling into a ball by Ren's feet.
"You know," Ren said softly, stroking Vader's snout. "Have I told you about where your names came from? It came from a movie where magic space monks wielded laser swords."
Vader whined softly, licking Ren's hand.
"Yeah, I know. Sounds fake," Ren chuckled humorlessly. "But the bad guy... his name was Vader. He wore this big black suit and choked people with his mind. Everyone was scared of him. But in the end... he just wanted to protect the one he loved… I think."
Vader raised a brow.
"Ok, I might not remember it that well, but it was a long time ago!"
The black dog gave a huff, then went close to cuddle up to him, and whose red eyes watched him with uncomprehending adoration.
"I named you after him because you look tough," Ren whispered. "But you're a big softie, aren't you?"
He looked at the white dog. "And Yoda... he was the teacher. Small, green, and talked backwards. He was the wisest guy in the galaxy. 'Do or do not, there is no try.'"
Ren closed his eyes.
"I miss movies," he confessed to the empty air. "I miss convenience stores. I miss the internet. I miss toilets that flush automatically."
He rolled onto his side, curling around the warmth of the Shikigami. It was pathetic, really. He was making good money.
He had friends who were powerful and kind. He was living a fantasy life that most people would kill for.
But it wasn't home.
"We'll figure it out," Ren whispered, more to convince himself than the dogs. "Tomorrow, we check the bookstore. Xingqiu usually has something weird to read. Maybe we might get lucky and find something useful this time."
Vader let out a long, contented sigh, closing his eyes. Ren listened to the dog's steady breathing, letting it lull him into a restless sleep, dreaming of neon lights and concrete skylines.
/ — /
The next day, he went directly to Wanwen Bookhouse.
It was quiet up here on the terrace, a stark contrast to the chaotic noise of the harbor below. The only sounds were the rustling of pages and the occasional bird crying out as it circled the masts of the ships in the distance.
Ren sat at a small table in the corner, hidden behind a fortress of paper.
He had four books open in front of him, and three more stacked precariously to his left. He wasn't reading for pleasure. He was studying.
His finger traced the lines of text in Chronicles of the Sea of Clouds, moving quickly, scanning for keywords.
He wasn't interested in the flowery descriptions of Rex Lapis's wisdom or the economic policies of the Qixing. He was looking for anomalies.
Void. Abyss. Rift. Teleportation. Anything that could hint at teleportation.
He flipped a page, his eyes narrowing. Nothing. Just another poem about a mountain.
Ren groaned, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. The literacy barrier wasn't the problem—Teyvat's language was magically auto-translated for him, a perk of being an isekai protagonist, he supposed—but the style of writing was infuriating.
Everything was a metaphor. Nothing was just a technical manual.
"Why can't anyone just write a textbook?" Ren muttered to himself, closing Chronicles with a heavy thud.
" 'The earth trembled and the sky wept.' Great. Does that mean it rained, or did a dimensional portal open? Be specific."
He reached for the next book on his pile, a heavy tome titled Analysis of Adepti Arts: Volume VII.
He had pinned his hopes on this one. If Adepti could create pocket dimensions, as the stories of Cloud Retainer suggest, there may be a clue to spatial manipulation in there.
"A heavy selection for this fine morning," a polite, amused voice chirped from above the book stack.
Ren didn't jump this time. He knew that voice. He smiled, sliding the book down to reveal the face of the intruder.
Xingqiu stood there, dressed in his usual silk finery, a book tucked casually under one arm. He looked like the picture of a refined young master, except for the mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Good morning, Xingqiu," Ren said, abandoning his reading for a moment. "And it's not heavy. It's... educational."
"It is dry," Xingqiu corrected, pulling up a chair without asking. He tapped the cover of the Adepti book.
"The previous volume mostly dealt with the bureaucratic hierarchy of the illuminated beasts, this one isn't any better. If you are looking for excitement, you would be better off reading the label on a bottle of soy sauce."
'How do they make labels here without machines?' Ren quickly shook away the random thoughts.
"I noticed. I've been reading for two hours, and I still don't know what a 'Sigil of Permission' actually does, physically."
Xingqiu chuckled, setting his own book down. "You are a glutton for punishment, Ren. Every week I see you here, burying yourself in the most dense, academic texts you can find. Last week it was Ley Line Disorders of the Chasm, and now Adepti history. Are you by any chance planning to apply for a position as a historian in the Ministry of Civil Affairs?"
Ren shifted in his seat. He and Xingqiu had known each other for a few months now. They were "book buddies" in the sense that Xingqiu read everything (mostly novels), while Ren read very specific, weird things.
"Just curiosity," Ren lied smoothly, though it wasn't entirely a lie. "I'm a foreigner, remember? There's a lot I don't understand about Liyue. The myths, the history... the Archon War. It helps me understand the... vibe of the place."
"The 'vibe'," Xingqiu repeated, testing the foreign slang with a smile. "Well, your dedication is admirable. Most merchants only care about the history of Mora coinage."
Xingqiu leaned forward, his gaze drifting over the titles Ren had pulled. The Archon War: Southern Front, Theory of the Void, and Mysteries of the Jueyun Karst.
"You are focusing quite heavily on the supernatural aspects today," Xingqiu noted. "The Void and the Adepti... Are you perhaps looking for something specific?"
Ren hesitated. Xingqiu was sharp. If Ren said too much, the Feiyun Commerce Guild's second son might start asking questions Ren couldn't answer.
"Just trying to understand the power scale," Ren shrugged. "I mean, we live in a city watched over by a God who can drop mountains. It makes you wonder what kind of wars were fought to establish that kind of order. And what... you know... came before."
Xingqiu's expression softened. The mischievous teasing faded, replaced by the genuine enthusiasm of a scholar who found someone willing to listen.
"A noble pursuit," Xingqiu agreed. "To understand the present, one must dissect the past. However..."
He reached out and plucked the Analysis of Adepti Arts from Ren's hands, closing it firmly.
"If you want to understand the nature of the Adepti and the wars they fought, this bureaucratic nonsense will not help you. It was written by mortals who only observed from a distance."
"Calling people mortals when you are one yourself is interesting…"
Xingqiu didn't answer. He stood up and walked over to a shelf a few rows down. He scanned the spines for a moment before pulling out a worn, dark blue book.
He walked back and dropped it onto Ren's pile.
The Yaksha's Vigil.
"Read this," Xingqiu instructed. "It is technically classified as folklore, so the historians at the Ministry turn their noses up at it. But it contains accounts of the battles against the remnants of the defeated gods—the demons, the corruption, the madness."
Ren looked at the cover. "Demons and corruption?"
"The aftermath of the Archon War wasn't just political," Xingqiu said quietly. "When gods die, their power doesn't just vanish. It festers. If you are interested in the 'Void' or the darker side of our history, this is where you start."
Ren ran a hand over the cover. Festering power. Defeated gods. It sounded a lot like Curses. It sounded like something he could actually understand.
"Thanks, Xingqiu," Ren said, genuinely grateful. "This looks... actually useful."
"Do not thank me yet," Xingqiu smiled, picking up his own book again. "The prose is archaic, and the author uses a lot of allegory. But if you finish it by next week, I would be delighted to discuss the thematic parallels between the Yaksha's sacrifice and the concept of erosion."
Ren groaned, sliding the book into his bag. "You just want someone to join your book club."
"Guilty," Xingqiu winked. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a date with a protagonist who is about to make a very poor decision involving a spirit sword. Happy reading, Ren."
Ren watched him wander off to a quieter corner of the terrace. He looked down at the bag containing his new homework.