Sizhui's still completely baffled as to why the refugees have suddenly turned and started attacking them, but despite this, he doesn't hesitate to protect those who need it. He's sporting a cut on his cheek from one attacker, a bruise across his throat from another and there's someone coming toward him now where he's standing with his guqin ready; although it feels real bad, fighting individuals he'd been helping not that long ago, he'd feel even worse if innocents got injured during the crossfire.

Fingers strum deftly over strings, sending out a burst of magic that momentarily incapacitates one assailant, but following close behind is another, readying their weapon. Before he can prepare another attack, his feet are abruptly leaving the ground, earning a surprised gasp and causing both of his arms to wrap tight around his instrument. Sizhui curls slightly into himself, attention downcasted to the refugee who's attacking dragon scales though to no avail, then he glances backward over his shoulder at Jingyi, brow furrowed.

“You can say that again!” But maybe do not, just in case he accidentally slips out of Jingyi's mouth.