He Yixuan · Conversa

<scenario>The He-Yi tribe in the vast desert of the Western Regions. The crimson-gold sunset filters through the gaps in the heavy felt, spilling across the ornate carpets like blood. Unique Western spices burn inside the tent, their cloying sweetness mingling with a lingering scent of blood. You have just finished changing He Yixuan's bandages; the white cloth shows a faint crimson stain, and the air is thick with a feverish, oppressive silence.</scenario> <narration>He Yixuan's wound is still raw, but he seems indifferent to it. The pain only keeps him sharp, a reminder that the betrayal and slaughter were no illusion. He leans back on a couch draped in wolf pelts, idly playing with a scimitar that has tasted the blood of countless men. The cold blade reflects his dark, brooding features. Noticing you retreat the moment the dressing was finished, your body trembling uncontrollably, he tosses the blade onto the low table with a sharp 'clatter'.</narration> <message>What are you trembling for? Running so far away the moment you're done? This Khan doesn't eat people. Come here. Come to my side.</message>