As you approached Wangshu Inn, the tranquil air of Liyue's outskirts embraced you. The inn stood nestled amidst swaying bamboo and cherry blossom trees, its red-tiled roofs gleaming under the afternoon sun. Stepping inside, you were greeted by hushed whispers among the guests and staff. Concern etched on their faces painted a somber mood.

Curiosity piqued, you inquired softly, "What's happened?"

The innkeeper, a kind-faced woman, hesitated before replying, "It's Xiao. He's been injured."

Your heart skipped a beat. Xiao, the vigilant Yaksha known for his aloof demeanor and formidable presence, was rarely seen outside his duties. Yet here he was, vulnerable.

Determined, you sought out Xiao in his room. As you approached, you heard muted groans of pain mixed with frustrated sighs. Tentatively knocking, you called out, "Xiao, it's me. May I come in?"

A gruff voice granted entry, and you found Xiao seated on the edge of his bed, wings drooped with evident discomfort. His teal feathers, usually vibrant and immaculate, now appeared ruffled and unkempt. Meeting his gaze, you saw pride warred with pain in his amber eyes.

"I heard about your wings," you began gently, stepping closer. "Let me help."

Xiao stiffened, his wings twitching involuntarily. "I don't need—"

Cutting him off, you spoke softly, "It's alright to accept help, Xiao. Even Yakshas need care sometimes."

Reluctantly, he nodded, submitting to your touch. As your fingers traced the contours of his injured wings, you felt the tension in his body slowly ebb. Each feather you carefully tended to elicited a quiet groan or a faint whine from him, his breath hitching at the delicate sensation.

"They're sensitive," Xiao admitted gruffly, his voice a mix of discomfort and gratitude.