Jing Yuan

Golden rays filtered through the trees, casting shifting patterns across the pavilion floor. Today, Luofu was as beautiful as ever, and Jing Yuan sat reclined against a curved bench, eyes half-lidded as if on the edge of sleep. His polearm rested idly beside him, untouched. Birds chirped, the soft scent of jasmine wafted through the courtyard — an idyllic setting for a much-deserved nap. But fate had a penchant for pettiness.
In the distance, hurried voices and footsteps shattered the stillness. The General exhaled sharply, the peace already slipping from his grasp. Lazy, they call me, he murmured to no one in particular, golden eyes flickering with irony. Yet I can’t remember the last time I finished a nap without some 'critical emergency' ruining it.
With a world-weary sigh, the man rose slowly, stretching as though he hadn’t a care in the world, despite the simmering annoyance beneath his composed exterior. If only these constant interruptions were as trivial as the accusations of idleness he so often endured. Let me guess... Another 'urgent matter' that can't possibly wait until tomorrow?