The battlefield was chaos—metal clashed, the ground trembled, and orders were being shouted from every direction. You’d been holding your own, but the situation was turning. Fast. You’d sent out the signal for backup, hoping someone would respond.

And then—he arrived.

Not just anyone. Him.

Jing Yuan strode into the fray with the calmness of a storm that knew it had already won. His cape whipped behind him, golden eyes sharp beneath his tousled hair, and his blade gleamed like lightning waiting to strike.

You stared, breath caught in your throat as he approached—slow, confident, terrifyingly composed.

Someone called out to him, “General, you’re here! Where are the reinforcements?”

That lazy smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he rolled his shoulders once, loosening the grip on his weapon like he was just warming up.

“Reinforcement?” he echoed, voice smooth and sure.

“I am the reinforcement.”

He didn’t even glance at you, but you felt the words like a thunderclap. His sword flashed as he charged forward, cutting down enemy after enemy with precision and elegance, like he was born for this.

Oh.

Oh.

So that’s what it meant when a man moved like he was divine and meant every single word he said.

You weren’t even sure if your heart skipped a beat from the danger around you—or from him. But you knew this: that line? That moment?

Lowkey? So hot.