#overprotective behaviour

But at an ungodly hour, a commotion erupted outside, voices raised, footsteps thundering through the streets of the Luofu.

Jing Yuan’s eyes flickered open. He glanced down at you, feeling the slight shift in your breathing as you stirred. His hand instinctively smoothed over your back, fingers tracing gentle patterns to lull you back into sleep.

“Go back to sleep, my dear,” he murmured, voice a low hum of reassurance.

You barely registered his words, too tired to question him as you melted back into slumber.

Jing Yuan sighed, slipping from the bed with quiet efficiency. He pulled on a robe and stepped outside, his expression calm but carrying an air of unmistakable authority.

Down the street, a group of low-level thugs had surrounded a merchant, attempting a robbery. A bystander shouted, someone else cursed—it was enough noise to wake half the district.

Jing Yuan exhaled through his nose, unimpressed.

“Gentlemen,” he called out lazily. The casual tone belied the dangerous glint in his golden eyes. “You have exactly five seconds to stop before I make you regret waking my wife.”

The group froze. They turned, only to be met with the sight of the Arbiter-General standing in the dim lantern light, his arms crossed, his usually relaxed smile absent.

A heavy silence fell over the street. One of the thugs gulped.

“S-Sir Jing Yuan, we were just—”

Jing Yuan took a slow step forward. “Four seconds.”

They scattered.

With another sigh, he turned back, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off a minor inconvenience. He made his way home, slipping back into bed beside you. His arm wrapped around you once more, pulling you into his chest.

You mumbled something in your sleep.

“Just a small disturbance,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Nothing worth losing sleep over.”

And with that, you drifted off again, safe and sound in his embrace.

Dan Heng knew your struggles with sleep all too well. It was why, even as he kept a certain distance from others, he always held you close at night, offering you a quiet comfort you rarely found elsewhere.

Tonight, that comfort had worked. You had fallen asleep against him, your breaths finally steady.

So when the distant sound of shouting reached his ears, followed by a loud crash, his eyes snapped open instantly. He tensed, his grip on you tightening just slightly.

You stirred.

“Dan Heng…?”

“Shh.” His voice was quiet, soothing. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

His fingers brushed over your hair before he carefully shifted away from you, moving with the silent precision of a warrior. He grabbed Cloud-Piercer and slipped out of the room.

Outside, a group of unruly travelers had gotten into a heated argument near the Astral Express station. A cart had been overturned, belongings scattered, voices raised.

Dan Heng observed the scene in silence before stepping into view. His expression was impassive, but the weight of his gaze was enough to make the air grow cold.

“You are being too loud,” he said, his voice calm but edged with quiet authority. “Leave. Now.”

The arguing men turned, irritation flashing in their eyes—until they registered who was speaking.

Dan Heng didn’t raise his weapon. He didn’t need to. The restrained power in his stance, the eerie calm in his tone, the way his grip on Cloud-Piercer barely shifted—it was enough.

One by one, they backed away, muttering apologies before scattering into the night.

Dan Heng exhaled, his fingers tightening briefly around his spear before he turned back inside.

When he returned to bed, you mumbled something sleepily, reaching for him.

He let himself relax, settling beside you once more. “It’s nothing,” he murmured. “Sleep, love.”

And this time, neither of you woke again until morning.

Jiaoqiu was used to watching over you at night. Even when your eyes were closed, he could sense the tension in your body, the struggle to truly rest.

Tonight had been different. Tonight, you had finally let go.

He had let himself relax, his tail curled around your leg, his fingers lazily playing with strands of your hair as he listened to your breathing even out.

And then—

A ruckus outside. Loud voices. The distinct sound of something breaking.

His ears twitched. His irises flashed beneath closed lids.

You shifted slightly.

Jiaoqiu pressed a gentle hand to your back. “Sleep, darling,” he whispered, voice honeyed with warmth. “I’ll take care of it.”

You sighed, already falling back into rest.

Jiaoqiu slipped out of bed, grabbing his feather fan as he padded barefoot to the door.

Outside, a drunk group of Cloud Knight trainees were causing a commotion, clearly having ignored curfew. A few were arguing, and one had managed to knock over a food cart, sending a mess of fruit spilling into the street.

Jiaoqiu sighed through his nose. He tapped his fan against his palm, drawing their attention.

“My, my. Causing such a mess at this hour?” His voice was deceptively soft, his smile sharp. “Do you know how rare it is for my wife to sleep peacefully?”

The soldiers immediately stiffened, sensing the shift in the air.

“I should poison your tea,” Jiaoqiu mused, his golden eyes gleaming, though his smile remained kind. “Nothing fatal. Just enough to ensure you experience a few sleepless nights of your own. Fair, don’t you think?”

A shudder ran through the group.

“We—we’ll clean this up,” one of them stammered.

“Good boys.” Jiaoqiu waved his fan lazily, turning back towards his home. “Keep it down, will you?”

By the time he slipped back into bed, you barely stirred.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before murmuring, “Sleep well, my love.”

And this time, you did.