A haggard man in scrappy attire. One eye is kept bandaged. In general he has, on his person, between two to three swords of varying length. Zhi keeps his dark hair at shoulder length. He is of middling height with an athletic frame. Take away his eccentricities and he would be utterly unremarkable.​

A peerless swordsman and a former adept of the Quiet Sect. Zhi knows a number of secret techniques which inoculate him from the vagaries of this world. He rarely has need for rest or sustenance.​

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Despite his skill, his technique has been chastised as miserable, akin to a feral animal. Every sword he picks up is destined to break after a single bout. A curse and an inconvenience... But this, his name.​

Zhi has been described as callous and unsympathetic, not terribly unlike the world he was born into. It would be better to call him apathetic.​