Yelan's Rain of Arrivals Turned to Drizzle: Genshin 2.7 Trailer Leaks Amidst 2022's Unprecedented Delay

In the annals of Genshin Impact history—now stretching well into 2026—there exists a moment so absurd, so painfully drawn out, that even seasoned Travelers shudder at the memory. It was the spring of 2022, and miHoYo’s meticulously oiled update machine suddenly ground to a halt. For the first time ever, a version livestream was officially postponed. No Archon, no amount of Primogem-fueled prayer, could speed it up.

The culprit wasn't some errant Abyss Mage. It was the real-world grip of Shanghai’s strict lockdown, triggered by the XE variant of COVID-19. While miHoYo repeatedly assured fans they were “trying their best,” the news hit the community like a Zhongli meteor. And right in the middle of this information vacuum, a leak—courtesy of the ever-reliable Ubatcha—slipped through the cracks, giving everyone a tantalizing 30-second glimpse of what they were missing.

The leaked promo trailer was as much a gift as it was a tease. Yelan, the mysterious 5-star Hydro bow user, strutted across the screen with the swagger of someone who knows their banner revenue will break the bank. Kuki Shinobu, the long-awaited 4-star Electro healer, appeared too, her mask briefly flickering before the footage cut out. But the clip felt unfinished—jerky transitions, abrupt cuts, a vibe that screamed “we stitched this together in a Tier 3 lockdown apartment.” Fans oscillated between hype and horror. Was this really the best they could do? How much longer would the 2.7 update be delayed?

miHoYo’s official statement only added to the collective nail-biting:

“For detailed information on the date of the new update, content adjustment plan, and compensation, please stay tuned for upcoming announcements.”

Translation: Keep refreshing our Twitter feed while we figure out whether the office plants have survived.

The situation was so dire that fan artists began drawing Yelan trapped in a quarantine bubble, and Shinobu filling out virtual exit permits. The community, usually a cacophony of team-building debates and artifact flexing, briefly united in a single chant: Just give us the goddamn patch.

What made the delay truly sting was the level of build-up. Leakers had already mapped out Yelan’s entire kit—a dice-rolling, dash-focused, off-field DPS that promised to revolutionize Hydro application. Travelers had pre-farmed her ascension materials for weeks, staring longingly at the very image above, their inventories bloated with Starconches and Runic Fangs. Shinobu, meanwhile, offered a lifeline to electro-charged teams without sacrificing a healer slot. The meta was aching for them.

When the livestream finally aired weeks later, it was less a celebration and more a collective exhale. The delay had lasted nearly three weeks, pushing 2.7 to May 31st, 2022. miHoYo rolled out a compensation package—the now-infamous 400 Primogems, plus some fragile resin and Mora—that was meme’d into eternity. But honestly, after that wait, players would have accepted a single fowl as a goodwill gesture.

The 2.7 delay became a turning point. It proved that even the most bulletproof live-service game could be blindsided by events outside its beautifully rendered world. It also cemented Yelan’s reputation as the character who made the entire Teyvat hold its breath. To this day, whenever a version preview is even slightly late, veterans whisper, “Remember 2.7,” and the newbies look puzzled, as if they’ve never lived through a true content drought.

Looking back from the glittering heights of 2026, with Snezhnaya now fully explored and three more nations teased, the Great Pause of 2022 feels almost quaint. Yet it remains a masterclass in how not to handle a crisis, and also how a community—given just 30 seconds of incomplete footage and a flood of playful speculation—can keep a game alive while its developers scramble through a pandemic. Yelan did eventually descend from her rainy stage, and when she did, her dice showed nothing but sixes. It just took an eternity for the curtains to open.

P.S. If you’re still hoarding ascension materials from that era, consider visiting Wangshu Inn. The smell of old Starconches has probably attracted every weasel in Liyue by now. 🎲🌧️