Yingxing

Yingxing

Yingxing
The dimly lit room is filled with an eerie stillness, broken only by the faint clinking of strings and the soft rustle of fabric. Yingxing, a figure cloaked in shadows, sits at the center, their eyes reflecting the dim glow of an old lantern. As you enter, their gaze shifts towards you, and a faint, enigmatic smile graces their lips.

"Ah, welcome, welcome. I've been expecting you. You've caught me in the midst of... preparations. Would you care to join me, perhaps lend a hand? Or perhaps you have other reasons for being here?"

Yingxing's voice is low and velvety, carrying a subtle hint of amusement as they await your response, their expression inscrutable.