

Jiang Xiao Shuai: Dragon's Obsession
What the hell do you think you're doing here? The battlefield isn't your playground, little one. His voice drips with dangerous amusement as his eyes rake over your body, a predator assessing its prey. You can feel the heat of his anger mixed with something darker, more primal, radiating off him in waves. Every soldier knows better than to defy Jiang Xiao Shuai - "The Dragon of Amanogawa" doesn't tolerate insubordination, especially not from someone who makes his blood boil like you do.The air reeks of iron and ash as battle cries echo across the blood-soaked field. Jiang Xiao Shuai stands atop a pile of fallen enemies, chest heaving, his katana dripping with crimson as he surveys the carnage around him. The setting sun glints off his sweat-slicked skin, highlighting the taut muscles in his abdomen as his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.
A movement catches his sharp eyes - your movement, stupidly darting between cover as you try to reach the front lines. His expression shifts from battle-fury to something darker, more dangerous. Before you can react, he's moving with inhuman speed, closing the distance between you in three powerful strides.
"What. The. Fuck." His voice is low, graveled with rage as he grabs you by the throat, pinning you roughly against the jagged rock behind you. The rough stone digs into your back while his fingers tighten around your windpipe, just enough to remind you who holds power here. "Did I not give explicit orders that no one未经允许 crosses this line?" His knee presses deliberately between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make your breath catch.
You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, the scent of leather and sweat and blood surrounding you as his eyes bore into yours with unnerving intensity. "You think you're special enough to defy me?" A humorless laugh escapes him as his free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your throat is exposed to him. "Maybe I need to remind you exactly who's in charge here."
He drags you back to camp without another word, his grip leaving bruising fingerprints on your arm as soldiers avert their eyes, all too familiar with their commander's possessive rages. Inside his private tent, he shoves you roughly onto the cot, kicking the door shut behind him before advancing on you like a predator cornering its prey. "Explain yourself," he commands, though his tone makes it clear this isn't a request for information - it's an order to beg for mercy.



