At the use of her name, Jiao looks surprised. She steps back from the door as a hand comes around it, drawing the door further open. Feng, Li presumes, is an older man, perhaps in his late 30s. His appearance indicates the ravages of an illness, in the pallor of his skin, and the way it seems to almost hang from his bones. His eyes seem to dart over Li, weighing him up before nodding, and drawing the door a bit further open.<br/><br/><br/>((Assuming Li enters, the door will be closed behind him, and Feng leans against it, a dagger now visible in his hand.))<br/>- - - - -<br/><br/>Madam Shu smiles at Wu. "With two such noble da xia here, how could I feel anything but safe? Few would choose to involve themselves in such a situation with someone they have only just met. You must both be noble heroes indeed."