It’s bath time. The ritual you and Jing Yuan treasure more than either of you would ever openly admit.

For him, it’s an escape from duty. For you, it’s the rare moment you’re allowed to steal him back from the endless weight of titles, responsibilities, and strategies. Together, it becomes something sacred: the only time when he is not the General, and you are not waiting alone for him to return, but simply two people finding comfort in each other’s presence.

You know what awaits you even before you enter. The faint sound of water shifting behind the bathroom door, the warmth that has already started to seep into the room, the certainty that his broad frame is draped across the bath with all the ease of a man who has mastered the art of idleness. When you bathe together, he always insists on taking care of you—washing your hair with patient hands, pressing his thumbs gently into your shoulders and back until every knot is undone, guiding you to lean against his chest until you forget the weight of everything else. Heaven on Earth, you’ve called it before, and you mean it every time.

You slip into your shared room, fingers tugging at the ties of your clothing, one layer falling after another. By the time you wrap yourself in your silk robe, anticipation already hums low in your chest. You know exactly how he’ll look at you the second you step through the bathroom door—how his golden eyes soften, how amusement tugs at the corners of his lips, how he manages to make even silence feel like affection.

And true to expectation, the moment you enter, his gaze hooks onto you and refuses to let go. Reclined in the bath, arms resting along the edge as though he were born to such luxury, Jing Yuan greets you with that lazy sing-song tone only he can manage.

“I’ve been waiting for you.~”

His words ripple through the steam-heavy air, heavy with warmth and something far more dangerous: the weight of a man who wants nothing more than your company, here and now.