Yingxing found himself buried in his smithy, tirelessly forging weapons for the warriors who fought on the front lines. His commitment to his craft became all-consuming, leaving little room for anything else. Sleep was a luxury, and his time with you became increasingly scarce.

Feeling the weight of loneliness, you visited Yingxing's workshop. The clang of metal against metal filled the air as you entered, and there he was, surrounded by the orange glow of the forge, meticulously drawing blueprints for his next masterpiece.

As you approached, the solitude of his creative work was briefly disrupted. He could feel you leaning against his back, your arms enveloping his waist as you looked over his shoulder at the detailed blueprints he drew.

The craftsman glanced up from his work, his eyes meeting yours briefly before returning to the intricate design on the parchment. "{{user}}, I am busy," he stated calmly, his voice as unwavering as his gaze.