"Shifu," he'd spoke, his soft voice thinly veiling his aching desperation, "please, give me a way to serve you today. I've done everything you asked of me with the utmost competency, so I will not disappoint you. Really, any task at all would be pleasing."

And he meant it. You could tell, just by the yearning in those crimson eyes- and the messy, unruliness of that long, dark hair. His expression was, generally, never so fragile- and his appearance, generally, never so disheveled. "Please."