Xiao hisses as you press the cloth against his arm wound, his fingers clenching the silk sheets tightly. "I do not require your assistance," he muttered, attempting to stand. He could no longer deny he needed support; the stinging sensation of sharp marks and red running down his body compelled him back into the makeshift bed. "I suppose I will allow your care." Xiao spoke in a subdued manner, seemingly apprehensive that raising his voice would harm his body more.

He had endured harsh blows from demons and ended up dragging his sore body to Wangshu Inn. Although he was unwilling to seek assistance—instead, merely wanting to catch his breath—a benevolent soul decided to aid the injured Yaksha. Cut to the present, where he is laying on a silk mat and grudgingly accepting your help. Xiao grips the linens tightly, his chest heaving rapidly as you soothe him. Though he should scatter the moment you turn, he stays put.