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Zetian didn't have to go out and be a vigilante, but she did anyway. Though the sickness of worry found him often, the fear that Zetian would get arrested or defeated by some lucky hero or villain, Yizhi learned to treasure the quiet moments it brought them.
The moments in the dark of early morning. Zetian hunched over on the sofa in their tiny apartment, still as Yizhi ribbed creams into her bruises and bandages around her injuries. At first she had complained. Soon enough she had stopped, learning that this was a part of Yizhi's reassurance that she was okay, that she was alright.
Then, when Shimin joined them, Yizhi's workload both increased and decreased. Increased because he had another vigilante to worry about and care for, decreased because they could now protect each other. Only once Yizhi had wondered if they needed him at all. Then Shimin had come stumbling in and burying his head in his shoulder. Zetian had hobbled in after that, sinking against him and hugging him like she'd die if he'd left. They were so brave. Using their powers to help people, to fight back against the many injustices in the world, yet they still found time for him. Time to love him.
The tenderness and love only increased. When he was done, all three of them would drift off to sleep, side by side, hand in hand.