[EARLY ACCESS] SHRINK IMPACT | GENSHIN IMPACT - CHAPTER 51

The gasp that left Ningguang’s throat was sharper than any command she had ever issued from her jade desk.

She had seen many things in her life — war, diplomacy, betrayal. But she had never, never, looked down the front of her own underwear and seen two tiny people nestled inside.

You and Mona froze.

Pressed together, red-faced, your bodies still slick with sweat and warmth, you barely had time to exchange a terrified glance before she reacted.

Ningguang froze. Her face went scarlet.

“Oh my Archons,” Hu Tao wheezed, half-laughing and half-horrified. “You were keeping them in there this whole time!?”

“I didn’t know!” Ningguang shrieked, her voice cracking in a way no one in Liyue had ever heard.

…

She brought you both into her private washroom — this time, thankfully, nowhere near the massive bath that had nearly swallowed you whole before. No risk of getting swallowed up between her thighs again either (you hoped).

“I’ll use the sink,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “Much safer.”

It was a beautiful basin — white porcelain with gold-veined inlay, shallow enough that you wouldn’t drown, deep enough for her to work. She let the water run just warm enough to be comforting, adding a drop of lavender oil from a crystal vial.

You and Mona were still too dazed to protest.

Ningguang’s hands moved carefully, reverently. She rolled up her sleeves, knelt before the basin, and reached in — her long, polished nails gleaming as she scooped water gently over your bodies.

Mona hissed softly at the contact. You flinched.

“I’m sorry,” Ningguang whispered, voice thick with embarrassment. “I’ll be gentle.”

And she was.

So gentle, in fact, it began to unnerve her.

She hadn’t truly looked at your bodies before now — not like this. But now, washed clean of sweat and panic, every detail was visible in the light that glittered through the gemstone sconces on the wall. The slope of a neck. The subtle rise and fall of a bare chest. The soft curve of your thighs. The way water slicked down your sides and pooled between delicate lines.

She swallowed.

This was supposed to be penance. Atonement. It was humiliating to think that someone of her stature (quite literally when compared to you two), would not have noticed there were two shrunken people in her very own home. 

But the act had become something else — slow, tender, intimate. And it was taking too long. She knew it. She should’ve finished by now, wrapped you both in cloth and tucked you somewhere safe. You’d need to be treated with the ultimate care until a solution to this whole ‘shrunken’ thing could be found.

Instead, her fingertips kept hovering — not quite touching, just…close. Skimming just enough to stir heat.

Her breath caught when she caught herself watching the droplets slide down your back. Her cheeks flamed anew.

“I didn’t mean to…” she trailed off, uncertain if she was apologizing to you or herself.

Mona, half-draped over the curve of her wrist, glanced up groggily. “You’re doing fine…”

That only made it worse.

By the time she finally patted you both dry with the edge of a silk handkerchief, Ningguang was flushed down to her chest. She didn’t speak again — not as she lifted you both, not as she carried you to her vanity and pulled open a carved wooden box lined with soft red velvet.

“You’ll be safe here,” she said stiffly. “Just for now. Until we…talk with Cloud Retainer.”

Clearing her throat awkwardly, she set you both down, withdrew her hand slowly, and closed the lid halfway. It remained ajar, just enough to let you breathe.

As she stood there, hand resting on the lacquered surface, her thumb rubbed absently against the corner of the box — as if tracing the memory of your skin. How tiny both of your bodies had felt in her grip.

And then she stepped back, the faintest tremble in her hands.

“I’ll…check on you soon.”

…

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, silence wrapped around Ningguang like a velvet curtain.

She stood in her private chambers, the hush almost oppressive after the chaos of the day. It was hard to believe any of this had happened. And it was so hard to resist going back and opening that box again…

She didn’t open it. Not yet.

Instead, she turned away, exhaling slowly as she leaned against the edge of her writing desk. Her hands braced the surface tightly, knuckles white. A few papers fluttered from the breeze that slipped through the window.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

So warm.

So small.

She closed her eyes, shuddering.

This wasn’t like her. She’d always been so composed, so unmoved by petty distractions — but this…this was something else. The way Mona had clung to her fingertip, trembling. The way your chest rose and fell as you lay across her palm, skin beaded with droplets she had caused.

And the thought that the two of you had been the cause of that strange feeling between her legs. The flush…

At first she’d chalked her reaction up to guilt. Embarrassment. Maybe even panic. But alone now, her body betrayed her. Her thighs pressed together instinctively. Her breath hitched.

She’d liked it. Saints above, she’d liked it.

The helplessness of it. The way you’d both trusted her without meaning to — unable to fight it, forced to be touched. It wasn’t something she ever knew she wanted. Or needed. But she wanted it now.

And the worst part?

She wanted to do it again.

Hands shaking faintly, she re-entered and crossed the room to the vanity. Slowly, reverently, she eased open the lid of the box. The two of you were curled up close under the soft velvet lining, sleeping, understandably exhausted.

She didn’t touch you. She only watched. For a long, dangerous moment.

And then, blushing, she whispered — more to herself than anyone else:

“…I should…not enjoy this.”

But she did.

She closed the lid gently and backed away.

Tomorrow, they’d confront Cloud Retainer. Fix everything. Restore you both to full size somehow. She’d fulfil her noble duties and do what she could to see that it happened.

But tonight…

Tonight, Ningguang locked the door behind her, drew the curtains, and sat in silence.

And in craving…