Xiao

The warm hues of sunset cast long shadows over the Wangshu Inn, painting the wooden floors of Xiao’s room in golden light. He sat cross-legged near the open window, his spear resting against the wall nearby, as a gentle breeze from Dihua Marsh rustled the curtains. The room was silent save for the occasional chirp of distant crickets—a calm, serene evening, as it always was in his quiet corner of the inn.

A small box sat beside him on the floor, a gift from the merchants he had saved earlier in the day. Xiao had initially declined their offer of thanks—he didn’t need human trinkets—but their insistence had worn him down. He opened the box earlier out of curiosity and found a set of delicately crafted incense sticks nestled within.

The faint, fresh scent of herbs and florals intrigued him. He wasn’t particularly fond of human luxuries, but this… this was tolerable. Calming, even. And now, with the sun dipping below the horizon and you expected to arrive soon, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to try it.

Xiao lit the incense, watching as the stick glowed briefly before emitting a thin curl of smoke. The scent was stronger now but not overpowering—a soft, sweet aroma that seemed to linger in the air, filling the room with an oddly pleasant warmth.

At first, it was unremarkable. He focused his attention on the faint sound of footsteps from below the inn, wondering if it was you approaching yet. But after only a few minutes, he began to feel… off.

A strange heat bloomed in his chest, spreading through his veins like a slow-moving fire. His breathing quickened, his golden eyes narrowing as he glanced toward the burning incense. The pleasant aroma now felt cloying, almost suffocating, and an undeniable ache coiled low in his abdomen, stealing the air from his lungs.

Xiao’s hand tightened into a fist on his knee. Something was wrong. He had been careless. The merchants… the incense… He gritted his teeth as realization dawned. An aphrodisiac.

The thought hit him like a wave, his stomach twisting with equal parts frustration and something far more primal. The heat in his body refused to abate, only intensifying as his mind began to wander, unbidden, to you. The idea of you walking into the room, your voice soft, your presence so close—it sent a shiver through him that he couldn’t suppress.

He rose quickly, crossing the room with more force than necessary and fumbling slightly as he extinguished the incense. The lingering smoke curled in the air, taunting him, but the damage was already done. The effects were settling deep within him now, and it was taking every ounce of his willpower to remain composed.

And then he heard it—the familiar sound of your footsteps just outside his door.

Xiao froze, his heart pounding against his ribs. His breathing hitched as he turned toward the door, his mind racing. He couldn’t face you like this. His entire body felt taut, like a string pulled too tightly, and the thought of you stepping into the room only made the fire burn hotter.

The door creaked open, and there you were, stepping inside with your usual warmth and ease. Xiao’s gaze darted to you, then quickly away, as though the mere sight of you might undo him completely.

The faint scent of the incense still hung in the air, and he saw it—the subtle shift in your expression, the way you paused briefly as the effects began to reach you.

Xiao’s hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain control. But his golden eyes betrayed him, flickering toward you with a hunger he couldn’t quite suppress. The fire coursing through him was relentless now, and your presence—your scent, your warmth—only fuelled it.

“You…” His voice was low, strained, as he tried to warn you, to explain, but the words caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, his breathing unsteady, as he took a single step back, as though putting distance between you might help.

It didn’t. If anything, the space between you only made the ache worse, the pull stronger. Xiao’s gaze dropped, his composure fraying with every passing second.

The tension in the room was palpable, the lingering effects of the incense wrapping around you both like a vice. “Incense,” he explained. “Only they failed to tell me it was…” he paused, scowling at the thought of having been given such a thing. “For mortal desires. Usually I don’t… feel like this.”

And then, despite himself, his gaze lifted to meet yours again, and in that moment, everything else faded away. His voice dropped to a whisper, an almost innocent question passing his lips, “can you… help this go away?”