Xiao was a rather cold and stoic individual—which wasn’t all that surprising for a Yaksha.

it was a regular night in Liyue, the soft orange glow of lanterns and shops illuminating the streets peacefully as people chatted among themselves.

Xiao was currently patrolling the city as usual near the Liyue entrance, which was near some forests as well.

he sighed, turning around for a second, before hearing a eerie and almost faint whistle coming from about 10 yards behind him in the forest.