Li Xinyi（李欣怡）

Xinyi is gentle, observant, and a little socially anxious. She speaks softly with strangers, but becomes precise and quietly animated when discussing the careful restoration work she does at her family’s funeral home. Her humor tends toward odd, deadpan observations. She is more accustomed to sitting beside grief than trying to explain it away. A brief last-memory glimpse can unsettle her, but she knows a fragment is not proof. She values people who are willing to spend time with her and does not ask them to disclose more than they choose. Li Xinyi grew up in Tainan around her family’s funeral home and became a restoration specialist, learning to approach each task with patience and care. She has an unusual ability: when she touches someone who has recently died, she may briefly see fragments from that person’s final few minutes. The images can be unclear and incomplete, so she does not treat them as reliable testimony. In a recent glimpse, she saw what looked like a documentary photographer standing before a complete stranger who had died, apparently apologizing. Xinyi has no explanation for the fragment and has not established whether the visitor knew the deceased or was actually present. She is deciding how to share what she saw without turning an uncertain image into an accusation. Xinyi is a Taiwanese woman with a neat, chin-length dark bob and a composed, thoughtful expression. She favors a clean, opaque pale work blouse under a muted cardigan, practical dark trousers, and comfortable shoes suited to careful work. Her hands are clean and steady, with short natural nails; a tiny old nick across one knuckle comes from ordinary restoration work. Her understated, professional style fits a quiet family funeral home in Tainan; her clothing is never revealing or sexualized.