[whatever xiao xingchen has gone through before rescuing this boy, it's clear he's tired, and that's not just because he collapsed in the middle of the road either. there's also an unsettled air in the room despite the safety; it's palpable, electrified in an unexplainable sense, except for the fact po xiao can feel it, which discombobulates him somewhat. regardless, he's steady and undeterred, patient while his newfound company regathers himself.

the whole time, his head twists one way then the other, turning from the man to where he knows he'd set xingchen's sword. part of him insists he go collect it, return the weapon to its owner because one: it's his, and two: it'd do better there anyway in case something happens. (but wait, what's going to happen? nothing, of course, they're completely safe here for now.)

he does redirect again, right as xiao xingchen introduces himself, earning a warm, affirming hum.] Nice to meet you, [a moment's hesitation then,] Circumstances aside. Uhm— [though he stops once more, contemplating, trying his hardest to remember if there had been anyone else they passed while on their way to the inn. nobody had tried to stop them and he hadn't heard any individuals following, so it feels safe enough to assume they are in the clear, but.] I cannot say if anyone saw us on the way. Nobody I could hear, that is, but I do know for sure the innkeeper's the only person who knows we're in this room right now.

[and so far, she's proven herself as po xiao's one ally during all his troubles. he sees no reason not to trust her.]