That approach is particularly evident in the song Annica (inspired by anicca, a Buddhist concept meaning impermanence), which incorporates the suona (a double-reed woodwind instrument) and the percussion rhythms of Kunqu Opera.
The striking thing is that the suona is not presented as a distinctly "Chinese" sound.
Instead, Xian Ke deliberately buried it within the arrangement, treating it like any other instrument.
"Traditional Chinese instruments are often placed prominently in contemporary music precisely because their sound immediately signals Chinese identity. We wanted to resist that impulse," Wang says.
For him, the goal is not to turn traditional culture into spectacle.
He points to the experience of watching traditional Chinese opera for the first time: Whether the viewer is a foreigner or a Chinese person encountering it for the first time, its unfamiliarity can make it seem like a spectacle, something exotic to be observed.
But that, he argues, misses the point.
Traditional Chinese opera and traditional Chinese music are not curiosities. They are not there to produce an exotic effect. They are beautiful.
The same principle guides Xian Ke's use of traditional instruments. The better the fusion, Wang believes, the less obvious the fusion becomes. "If an instrument is pushed to the front simply because it sounds unusual, it risks becoming a gimmick," he says.
Elsewhere on the album, they went in the opposite direction: Rather than hiding the identity of a traditional instrument, they explored what its history could bring to the music.
The song Fallen Stars features the sound of a Jiahu bone flute, an ancient instrument preserved by the Henan Museum and among the earliest known instruments associated with a seven-note scale.
The flute is a key exhibit at the Henan Museum and dates back about 8,700 years.