You settle into your seat, arms crossed as you watch General Jing Yuan step onto the stage, a flute resting lightly in his hands. The moment he lifts it to his lips, a hush falls over the crowd.

The first note sings through the air—soft, controlled, and mesmerizing. His fingers glide effortlessly over the flute, each movement precise yet relaxed, as if he’s merely indulging in a casual pastime rather than delivering a masterful performance.

You barely get the chance to appreciate the sheer artistry of it before you hear the sighs and dreamy murmurs from the audience.

Women in elegant robes clasp their hands over their hearts, faces flushed, their eyes practically sparkling. A few younger Cloud Knights lean forward, whispering about how effortlessly charming he looks. Someone behind you breathlessly murmurs, “How can someone be so graceful without even trying?”

You scoff. Of course. He’s not even doing anything special—just standing there, playing the flute, completely unaware of the havoc he’s causing.

Jing Yuan, as usual, remains blissfully oblivious. His eyes are half-lidded, lost in the melody, his silver hair catching the light as he sways slightly with the rhythm. There’s no arrogance, no intention to impress—just a man simply enjoying his music.

And that, perhaps, is what makes it all the more infuriating.

As the final note fades, the audience erupts into wild applause, some women practically swooning. Jing Yuan finally looks up, blinking in mild surprise at the overwhelming reaction. He tilts his head, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before glancing in your direction with a bemused smile.

“Strange,” he muses as he approaches you. “I was only playing for fun. Was it really that captivating?”

You stare at him, unamused.

“Jing Yuan,” you deadpan. “You just made half the audience fall in love with you, and you have no idea.”

He blinks, then chuckles, scratching his cheek sheepishly. “Ah… is that so?”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.