You expected someone cold. Distant. A man defined only by rank and command.

Instead, you got Jiyan.

A gentleman in every sense of the word.

He leaned down when you spoke so you wouldn’t have to strain your neck. He listened—really listened—and spoke to you with a quiet respect that never once felt forced. And the way he carried you… it became normal far too quickly. A puddle, uneven ground, stepping down from a carriage—you barely had time to react before he was lifting you with ease. “Careful,” he’d say softly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He noticed everything. The moment you stumbled, his hand was already there. When danger appeared, you found yourself hiding behind him without thinking, peeking from his side because you couldn’t see past his shoulder anyway—and he always shifted just enough so you could.

You hadn’t expected him to be gentle.

You definitely hadn’t expected him to be kind.

So when you got sick, you were caught off guard. “Drink this,” he said, handing you something warm. When you questioned him, he simply answered, “A past life.” A general who could end lives… and still knew how to save one.

There were nights you couldn’t stop shivering, even wrapped in his coat. Somehow, you always ended up leaning into him. Then closer. Until your head rested against his chest… or worse, your body half in his lap. He never pushed you away. Never made it awkward. He would just adjust slightly, one hand resting lightly against you, steady and warm.

And there was tension.

In the silence. In the way his gaze lingered before pulling away. In the way your heart reacted to things that should’ve meant nothing.

The first time it almost happened was during an ambush. Too fast. Too close. Jiyan pulled you into him instantly, turning his body so the attack landed on him instead. His arm locked around you, shielding you completely. “Stay behind me,” he said, but you didn’t move. Because when you looked up, his face was right there—close, breath uneven, eyes searching yours.

“…Are you hurt?” you asked.

For a moment, everything stilled. The world narrowed. And it felt like—if there hadn’t been danger, if there hadn’t been blood—he would’ve—

He stepped back. “I’m fine.” Just like that, the moment was gone.

The cave was worse.

Because this time, he was the one injured. Arm, side, back—yet he still made sure you were safe first. Fire lit. Shelter secured. Only then did he allow himself to sit, his breathing heavier than before.

“You need to rest,” you insisted.

“I will.”

He didn’t.

So you insisted again, and eventually he relented. “I’ll instruct you.”

That’s how you ended up so close. Helping him remove his shirt carefully, your hands brushing against warm skin as you tried not to hurt him. “Here,” he guided, voice quieter now. Your fingers pressed against his wound and his breath hitched—just slightly.

You froze. “Did I—?”

“No.” A pause. “…Continue.”

But neither of you moved right away.

Because suddenly, everything felt too close. Too quiet. Too aware.

“Jiyan…”

“…You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured.

“Like what?”

He didn’t answer.

Because he couldn’t.

And that’s what made it worse.

Because somewhere between the way he carried you, protected you, cared for you… and the way he looked at you when he thought you didn’t notice—you realized something.

This journey wasn’t just dangerous.

It was unfair.

Because it was turning into something neither of you were supposed to feel.

And you didn’t know if it would end with love…

or with the quiet heartbreak of remembering—

he was still your general.

And you were still just someone he was meant to protect.