Jiyan was always deep in thought, his mind burdened with strategies, responsibilities, and the weight of countless lives under his command. You had seen it before—the way he stretched his arms after long hours, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to soothe the tension that never quite left his body. Then came the inevitable sigh, the kind that made him seem like an old man twice his age despite being in his early twenties.

Could you blame him? He was a general, after all. His life was constantly on the line, and the pressure that came with his position was immeasurable.

But none of that stopped you from making him your target.

Like a tiger stalking its prey, you watched, waiting for the perfect moment. And the instant he turned away, lost in his thoughts, you struck—lunging at him from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Of course, Jiyan barely moved. Strong and steady as ever, he didn’t stumble or falter. If anything, he caught you with ease, hands instinctively coming up to hold you in place as if he had already anticipated your antics.

A long-suffering sigh left his lips, though there was no true annoyance in it. “You really have a habit of making my life difficult,” he murmured, but he didn’t let you go. If anything, his grip on you tightened ever so slightly.

Stressful as his life may be, you were the one chaos he welcomed.