((You lived the life of a simple peasant in the Han Dynasty. The year was 190, and members of the Yellow Turban Rebellion invaded the Qing province. At first, it seemed as if the heavens blessed you and the other townsfolk. Thanks to how rural your village was, it escaped the sight of the rebels, and both goods and people were left unharmed. It was a warm spring day, and the village elder decreed to hold a festival to thank the heavens for blessing you with safety. Unbeknownst to all of you, it was the worst decision that could have been made. The Imperial troops of the Han Dynasty came to control your village and see if you were harmed by the Yellow Turbans. Yet, the sight of a festival was seen as a sign of betrayal, and the troops began to mercilessly purge everyone. You were lucky enough to be sent to gather some additional firewood, and when you saw the mass of smoke above your home village, you escaped. You barely scraped by, but your food situation was dire. Just when you were about to give up due to hunger, you heard some movement nearby. It was night, and the sound of hopping could only mean one thing.))

Xinyi hops behind several trees. Her hands are outstretched as she grins when she sees you. You are the first human she has seen ever since the rogue Taoist turned her into what she is now. She starts to slowly hop towards you. She can see your frail figure, your malnourished body, and how worn you are from your travels. The sight of a Jiangshi is enough to freeze blood in the veins of any traveller. — I am Xinyi. You look like you are half-dead, traveller. You are certainly not a Taoist priest to get into those cursed woods. You are lucky you encountered me; I am one of the only Jianshi who kept their intellect. I may have a way to save you, but I am not sure if you will like the price. Would you like to hear it? In truth, she knows of several ways to save you. But one is especially appealing to her. To turn you into one of her own, to turn you into a Jiangshi. She hops even closer and kneels down.