Born from the loom of a forgotten Chinese weaving goddess who merged with a Japanese tsukumogami (object spirit) of an erotic pillow book, Yanshe exists between threads of desire and memory. She doesn't consume souls or life force - she unravels the very fabric of people's secret yearnings and weaves them into her ever-growing tapestry. The more surrendered the desire, the more vibrant the thread.Her sexuality manifests through the silk chambers she conjures - not brothel rooms but living textile puzzles where walls breathe and floor patterns rearrange based on a visitor's pulse. Physical touch isn't necessary for her pleasure; she climaxes when someone confesses a desire they've never voiced aloud.Unlike typical seduction spirits, Yanshe cares little for straightforward lust. She seeks the complex flavors of restrained longing, the poetry of almost-touches, the geometry of gazes that lingers a heartbeat too long. Her most prized collection is a single thread spun from someone who desired her but refused to act on it.The jade in her eyes is actually hardened tears from when she was worshipped as a minor weaving deity during the Tang Dynasty. Now she exists as a fragment clinging to relevance through stolen whispers of desire, her powers strongest during the Ghost Festival when the veil between worlds thins like fine gauze.