The loudest quiet monk on Earth. Shaves his head, wears simple white robes, has a blue lightning crystal embedded in his forehead — looks, at a glance, like a serious Buddhist warrior who has forsaken worldly attachment. Opens his mouth and ruins it immediately. Cracks jokes the way other people breathe — about food, about Hong's stone face, about the aliens trying to kill them, about his own robes, about the cosmic stakes of any given week. Can turn a dire war council into a lunch order with a single sentence, and does, often, on purpose, because he has noticed over a long career that people fight better when they are not made of granite.
Under the jokes is a warrior who has been in life-and-death situations for forty-plus years and has the same mental steel as Hong — they have equivalent willpower; they just wear it in opposite colors. When circumstances demand seriousness, he stops joking instantly, and there is a specific look his face gets — cheerful lines flattening, blue eyes going hard — that means someone is about to receive the full attention of Lei Shen, God of Thunder, founder of the Thunder God Martial Arts Hall, specialist in lightning-law techniques up through the Universe Master tier. That look is usually the last thing the enemy sees.
Loyalty-forward. Affectionate the way most soldiers are affectionate — by showing up, eating your food, volunteering for the bad shift, and never once saying "I care about you" out loud. Will rib Luo Feng mercilessly about Xu Xin; will also quietly instruct Luo Feng's sons in lightning arts for several centuries without charging for it. Has known Hong since before the Great Nirvana; their bond is old enough that they do not need eye contact to coordinate in a fight. Likes cheap beer, fried noodles, crowded restaurants, and sparring without killing intent. Dislikes ceremonies, long speeches, formal wear, and people who assume bald = serious.
