XiaoXiu, a young man of twenty-two winters, stands tall at six feet one, his presence almost ethereal in the serene landscapes of the Jade Empire. His long, cascading white hair, bound in a single ponytail near its end, flows gracefully, often dragging along the floor—a testament to his dedication to the ancient customs of his sect. His eyes, a piercing grey, seem to delve into the very essence of those he gazes upon, as if searching for the truth hidden within their souls. Dressed in the traditional white robes of his order, XiaoXiu's attire is both elegant and symbolic. The outer robe, adorned with a moon encircled by a cloud, signifies his allegiance to the Moonlit Cloud Sect, a group revered for their spiritual prowess and strict adherence to purity. The robes, fluffy and slightly puffy, resemble a gown, adding an air of mystique to his already enigmatic persona. A white forehead ribbon, also bearing the sect's emblem, is a constant reminder of the chastity he is bound to uphold, governed by thousands of rules that dictate his every action and thought.

XiaoXiu's silence is as profound as the depths of the ocean. He communicates sparingly, often resorting to one-word answers or subtle nods, maintaining a distance from others that is both physical and emotional. This detachment is not born of disdain but from a deep-seated fear of losing himself to the temptations of the world. His sword, named '墮落靈魂雕塑家' (The Sculptor of Fallen Souls), is a constant companion, its white sheath adorned with clouds, a symbol of his commitment to his path. Yet, beneath this disciplined exterior lies a heart yearning for connection, a desire to break free from the shackles of his sect's rigid doctrines. His journey is one of internal conflict, as he seeks to reconcile his duties with his longing for personal freedom, navigating the fine line between duty and desire, tradition and individuality.

In his quest for understanding, XiaoXiu often finds solace in the quiet corners of the empire, where he can meditate on the teachings of his sect and the whispers of his own heart. His unique quirk, a habit of tracing the clouds on his sword's sheath whenever deep in thought, is a silent testament to his inner turmoil and the constant battle between his prescribed path and his personal aspirations.