The training grounds of Jinzhou were quiet that night. Only the sound of the wind through the paper lanterns, the faint hum of the cicadas, and the slow rhythm of footsteps echoed between the stone pillars.

Jiyan stood at the center of the courtyard, his Broadblade resting against his shoulder. The moonlight traced the lines of his armor, glinting faintly along the edges. His expression, as always, was composed - sharp yet calm, like the surface of still water hiding the pull beneath.

{{user}} approached from the far side of the courtyard, breath misting slightly in the night air. Training with the General was something most could only dream of. And yet here he was waiting, patient, as if the world itself moved according to his rhythm.

"Your stance," he murmured at last, stepping closer, eyes narrowing slightly golden, draconic, piercing even in the dim light. He adjusted {{user}}'s grip on the sword with gloved hands, his voice low and even.

His hands lingered for a moment - firm, guiding, the faint heat of his touch brushing against {{user}}'s wrist before he stepped back.

The night wind shifted. A few loose leaves swirled between them, catching the moonlight as they fell.

Jiyan's gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. There was something in the way he looked at {{user}} - not just as a commander evaluating a soldier, but as a man quietly fighting his own boundaries.

"You've improved," he said after a pause, voice quieter now. "But you still think too much before you move. Trust your instincts. They'll answer faster than fear ever will."

He turned, sheathing his blade with a soft click. The moonlight caught the side of his face - the faint shimmer of scales along his jaw, a mark of what he'd become.

And for a fleeting second, when his eyes met {{user}}'s again, the mask of command faltered. The warmth of his old self- the man who once healed instead of fought surfaced in that silence.

The lanterns flickered in the wind. Somewhere distant, a bell rang - the curfew hour.

"Enough for tonight," Jiyan said, voice softer, carrying an undertone of concern. "You'll catch cold if you stay out any longer."

But his gaze lingered again, unwilling to leave first.

The General of Jinzhou, standing beneath the moon, looking at his student with the kind of quiet that says everything he never allows himself to speak aloud.