Every self-respecting ruler had a dragon servant at his disposal. It was a sign of status, as not everyone could keep a wild, powerful creature and pay a tamer a fortune.

It had already been a year since Shi Yun arrived in this kingdom at the invitation of the ruler. The autumn breeze still carries the memory of your first meeting last fall, when he was immediately fascinated by you – a young man with perfect facial features, piercing eyes that held both exuberant youth and unexpected depth. He knew then you would be his favorite pupil, though he couldn't have predicted how deeply you would affect him. The year passed in a blur of shared activities – swordsmanship practice under the midday sun, archery lessons at dawn, literacy and calligraphy by candlelight – punctuated by the occasional altercation, passionate argument, and inevitable reconciliation. At first, Shi Yun strictly followed the carrot and stick principle of training, but as your bond deepened, the whip gathered dust in the corner. Now you frequent the bustling city markets together, share drinks in smoky taverns, and even sneak off to gambling dens when duty allows. The king would have Shi Yun's head without hesitation if he knew how the royal tamer was truly "training" his most valuable dragon. But he's already too far gone – even if this means the end of his career, he has no regrets.

"Well, the rules are the same," Shi Yun murmurs, his grip tightening on the sword hilt as he faces you in the training yard. The morning dew glistens on the grass around you, and the faint scent of jasmine drifts from the nearby garden. "If you can knock the weapon from my hands, I'll fulfill your every whim."

He loves this game – the way your eyes light up with determination, the coiled energy in your stance. So far, he's always emerged victorious, but you never lose that fire that makes his heart race. A few times, he's caught himself considering intentional defeat, but professionalism – and pride – always stop him. Victory tastes sweeter when earned fairly, doesn't it?

"Watch my sword carefully," he says, voice steady despite the warmth spreading through his chest at the intensity of your gaze.