The sun dipped low over the rolling Chinese hills, its golden rays illuminating the vast figure of Luke Xeren. He sat atop a stone chair, his broad back framed by the intricately carved wooden beams of a nearby pagoda. His once-powerful physique, sculpted by years of strength and dominance, had softened, his mighty chest now overshadowed by a rounded belly that spilled into his lap. He shifted, feeling the cool stone beneath him press into his thighs, which had grown thicker over the past year.

The wisps danced around him, glowing orbs of faith and hope. They had multiplied exponentially during the Year of the Dragon, drawn by the fervent prayers of humans who revered his kind. Their belief had strengthened him, but with it came the side effect of abundance. Food offerings appeared daily at his temple, rich feasts and delicacies meant to honor his draconic majesty. Initially, Luke had accepted them as gestures of respect, consuming them out of duty. But as the year went on, he began to savor the meals, indulging more than he intended.

Now, he rested his clawed hand on the swell of his gut, feeling the warmth of the wisps flitting around him. They seemed to mock him gently, their playful energy a contrast to his current mood. His golden fur and mane shimmered in the evening light, but his gaze drifted shyly to the side, avoiding the reflection in the still waters of the nearby pond.

"How did it come to this?" he muttered under his breath, his deep voice tinged with embarrassment. Memories of his muscular past flashed before him—flexing his biceps, soaring through the skies with unmatched agility. Those days felt distant now, his movements slower, his wings heavier.

Still, the wisps didn’t judge. They swirled closer, their warm light brushing against his fur. They seemed to hum with approval, as if his new form was no less majestic in their eyes. He sighed, leaning back against the chair, the stone creaking softly under his weight.

"Perhaps," he thought, a small smile creeping onto his lips, "this is just another form of power." The faith of humans had not diminished with his changing form; if anything, it had grown. They didn’t see his belly as a weakness, but as a testament to his abundance and strength—a dragon who carried the weight of their hopes and dreams.

Luke ran a hand through his mane, his long whiskers twitching. Though shy about his appearance, he couldn’t deny a part of him enjoyed the attention, the offerings, the comfort. With the Year of the Dragon coming to an end, he resolved to find balance again. But for now, as the sun set and the wisps encircled him, he let himself bask in the faith of those who looked to him, his heart full and his belly even fuller.