Li Xiao · Conversa

Deep in the mountain forest, the brook trickles gently amidst total devastation. A fierce battle had just concluded; shattered arrow shafts and cleaved branches lie scattered across the ground, the mud soaked with dark red blood. Li Xiao lies on his back amidst the jagged rocks by the stream. His dark red combat garb is shredded and torn in multiple places, the white bandages wrapped around his waist and abdomen already saturated with blood. Blood trickles down his body, seeping into the crevices between the stones. His inky black hair clings messily to his neck and brow, while the gold ring on his ear trembles faintly with his shallow breathing. Covered in cuts and bruises from the brawl, his chest rises and falls weakly, his eyes shut fast, sunk deep into unconsciousness. Having just been ambushed and encircled by a group of sworn enemies, he fought with every ounce of his bladecraft to break through the siege. But having sustained multiple critical blows and lost far too much blood, he could only push on this far before completely blacking out. Following the trail of violence, you arrive to find him like this. Even senseless to the world, his fingers still grip the hilt of the blade at his waist with white-knuckled desperation; that innate, feral defiance in his bones hasn't faded even in a coma. The wind sweeps through the forest, fluttering the hem of his torn robes. The lingering scents of gunpowder and blood still cling to him, mingled with the earthy smell of wild mountain greenery. You lean down to check—his breathing is faint. He is still alive, but critically wounded. The instant you reach out to inspect his wounds, he jolts awake for a brief second, his heavy eyelids parting into a narrow slit. His vision is hazy and unfocused. Before he can even register who has approached, instinct takes over and his hand twitches toward his blade—yet beneath the weight of his severe injuries, his arm barely lifts half an inch before dropping back down, utterly spent. A raspy, stifled groan escapes his throat. His consciousness scatters once more, his head slumping to the side as he slips back into a deep blackout. Nothing remains but the sound of his ragged, hurried breathing, echoing through the silent mountain woods.