After being reborn, the aloof prime minister was once again forced by a tyrant.

Inside the royal tent, two large tallow candles burned brightly, their flames bathing the rough animal hides, iron racks, and wooden tables in a warm, yellow glow. The wind whipped sand and gravel against the tent fabric, creating a crackling sound that only served to emphasize the stillness within.

Xie Qinglan sent someone to bring in dinner—Xirong cuisine is usually simple and coarse. On the table was only a plate of dark brown, glistening hand-pulled mutton, a stack of roasted naan bread, a small dish of dried raisins, and a half-pot of perfectly warm goat milk, which Xiao Zhaoyue had just forced on Xiao Jingyuan.

Xie Qinglan sat down beside the table, and just as her fingertips touched the silver chopsticks, she caught a glimpse of the person standing at the entrance of the tent out of the corner of her eye.

Xiao Jingyuan's back was ramrod straight, his chin slightly raised, his black brocade robe accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The cold, imposing aura emanating from him, aura of someone who had long held a high position, was exactly the same as it had been at the camp gate.

The curtains fell with a "whoosh," shutting out the wind, sand, and noise from outside.

Then, his straight shoulders and back visibly slumped, his hard jawline lost its strength, and even his eyebrows and eyes relaxed, like a knife that had been sheathed, all its cold glint gone.

He limped to the table with his left leg and sat down next to Xie Qinglan, very close, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee.

Xie Qinglan turned her head and met a pair of incredibly bright eyes.

The cold and dignified demeanor he had displayed outside had completely vanished. He leaned against the table, elbows propped up, a slight smile playing on his lips, like a beast that had finished its task and was waiting for its master to pat its head, blatantly awaiting praise.

"Did I perform well just now?"

Xie Qinglan looked at his smug expression and gave a very faint smile: "Not bad."

Xiao Jingyuan's eyes brightened even more, and he moved half an inch closer, his breath brushing against Xie Qinglan's ear: "What's the reward?"

"Your Majesty, please have your meal first." Xie Qinglan pushed the porcelain plate containing mutton towards him.

"My ribs hurt." He immediately frowned, raised his hand and lightly pressed it against his left ribs, his voice softening slightly, "I can't lift my arm."

"Qinglan feeds me."

Xie Qinglan paused slightly in her grip on the silver chopsticks, glanced up at his feigned pained face, raised an eyebrow, and said in a calm tone, "Your Majesty, are you perhaps deceiving me? Just now in the spring, it was clearly like that—"

The words were on the tip of his tongue when he suddenly stopped, and a faint blush crept onto the tips of his ears. He swallowed the rest of his sentence back.

"What do you mean?" Xiao Jingyuan asked, his eyes crinkling with a mischievous glint in his voice.

Xie Qinglan turned her face away and squeezed out two words through gritted teeth: "...Powerful."

Xiao Jingyuan chuckled softly, lowered his hand from his ribs, but still refused to pick up the chopsticks.

Xie Qinglan stopped looking at him, picked up her silver chopsticks again, and said in her usual cold voice, "Eat by yourself."

Xiao Jingyuan gave an "Oh," reluctantly picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a piece of mutton, and stuffed it into his mouth. After chewing for only a couple of bites, his gaze returned to Xie Qinglan.

The candlelight fell on the man's profile, casting a warm glow on his pale skin. He ate slowly, holding his silver chopsticks neatly. With his eyes lowered, his eyelashes cast soft shadows, and even his chewing movements were very light, as if he were not gnawing on rough hand-pulled meat, but savoring the exquisite tea and snacks of Jiangnan.

Xie Qinglan noticed the burning gaze, looked up and met his eyes. She saw his chopsticks hanging in mid-air, the meat was cold and he was still staring at her. She couldn't help but frown, picked up a piece of mutton with fat and lean meat with her chopsticks and put it on the plate in front of him.

"Your Majesty has lost a lot of weight, please eat more."

Xiao Jingyuan looked down at the piece of meat on the plate, his eyes lit up, and he immediately grabbed his chopsticks and stuffed it into his mouth.

He ate quickly, his cheeks bulging, and swallowed after a few chews. He then pushed the plate towards Xie Qinglan, his eyes very direct.

Helpless, Xie Qinglan picked up a few more pieces and put them in, then devoured them in no time.

"You've lost weight too."

Xiao Jingyuan swallowed the last bite of meat, his gaze sliding from his face to the hand holding the chopsticks, and then back to his thin jaw. "It's hard to hold him."

Xie Qinglan put down her chopsticks, her expression indifferent: "If you don't like it, then don't hug me."

"How could I dislike it!" Xiao Jingyuan cursed himself for his poor communication skills and hurriedly explained, "I'm just worried about you."

As he spoke, he reached out and took the bowl in front of Xie Qinglan, picked up a piece of mutton, and held it to his lips. "Have some more."

"I am full."

"You're full after just a few bites?" Xiao Jingyuan refused to back down, pushing his chopsticks forward another half inch, the tips almost touching his lips. "I will definitely feed you until you're full."

Xie Qinglan looked at the stubbornness in those light-colored eyes, remained silent for a moment, and finally opened her mouth.

Piece after piece, after finishing the mutton, he tore off half a naan, dipped it in the meat gravy, and handed it to Xie Qinglan. Xie Qinglan was being fed so much that he didn't even have time to breathe; his cheeks were bulging. In the end, he could only frown and shake his head before he finally stopped.

"Drink some more goat milk." Xiao Jingyuan put down his chopsticks, picked up the ceramic bowl, and brought it to his lips.

Xie Qinglan took two sips from his hand, and was about to turn her head away when the man didn't stop, raising the rim of the bowl higher and higher.

Milky white liquid overflowed from the corners of her lips, slid down her chin, flowed over her prominent Adam's apple, and soaked into the crook of her neck where her collar was folded, coolly soaking the fabric.

He hurriedly raised his hand to wipe it, his tongue subconsciously licking the remaining milk stains on the corner of his lips. His soft red tongue flashed by and then quickly withdrew.

Xiao Jingyuan's gaze suddenly froze.

He stared at the retracted tip of the tongue, at the milk stain that slid down his neck, and his Adam's apple bobbed heavily.

The candlelight flickered, falling into his eyes, where a kind of dark melancholy that Xie Qinglan knew all too well surged.

Xie Qinglan's heart tightened; he knew all too well what that look meant. Every time he showed that expression before, he would then pin the person down on the bed, tossing and turning them over until dawn.

He immediately put down his chopsticks, got up, went around to the other side of the table, picked up the small cloth bag that Xiao Zhaoyue had given him, opened it, and looked down to examine it closely, thus concealing the burning sensation in his ears.

Inside the cloth bag was a jar of Xirong ointment, dark brown in color. When opened, it released a rich medicinal fragrance. The texture was delicate when rubbed between the fingers, and it was indeed a high-quality wound medicine.

"Your Majesty, I will administer the medicine."

Xiao Jingyuan's gaze was still fixed on his neck, and he absentmindedly hummed in agreement.

"Take off your clothes." Xie Qinglan said without turning her head.

"Help me take it off. My ribs hurt, and I can't lift my arms." The answer was quick and smooth, and the matter-of-fact tone made it clear that he was going to use this excuse to the end.

Xie Qinglan took a deep breath, turned around, and coldly swept her gaze over: "Take it off yourself."

After a brief standoff, Xiao Jingyuan realized that he was not going to back down this time, so he gave a listless "Oh" and slowly reached up to undo his belt.

Xie Qinglan turned back to continue fiddling with the ointment. Only when the rustling sound of fabric behind her gradually stopped did she turn around with the medicine jar.

He froze completely when he turned around.

Xiao Jingyuan sat on the edge of the couch, completely naked, even his underpants were removed.

His dark brocade robe was piled up at his ankles, and he sat with his legs wide open. His strong shoulders and back, and his taut waist and abdomen were clearly visible in the candlelight. His muscles were well-defined, his lines were cold and hard, and he had a wildness that was tempered on the battlefield.

He looked up at me with an open and honest expression, as if what he was doing was nothing out of the ordinary.

Xie Qinglan abruptly turned her back, her ears burning bright red at a visible speed, her voice tense: "Who told you to take your clothes off! Put your underwear back on right now!"

Xiao Jingyuan looked down at himself, then looked up at his stiff back, a slight smile playing on his lips. He slowly pulled up his underpants and put them on.

"I'm all dressed." He paused, then added, "But you didn't say how much you'd have to take off."

Xie Qinglan closed her eyes, suppressing the burning shame and indignation in her heart, and turned around after a few breaths.

Xiao Jingyuan had indeed put on his underpants and sat obediently on the edge of the couch, looking up at him.

The candlelight reflected in his pale eyes, softening his usually cold and hard features.

The light scar on his forehead was a fresh, pale pink, while the scab on his left rib was a deep brown with red, swollen edges, making it particularly striking in the warm light.

The embarrassment and anger from being teased were instantly overwhelmed by a surge of heartache.

He stepped forward, picked up a little ointment with his fingertip, and very lightly applied it to the scar on Xiao Jingyuan's forehead.

The ointment felt cool, but his fingertips were warm as he gently circled it along the edge of the scar.

Xiao Jingyuan closed his eyes quietly, his long eyelashes casting light shadows beneath them, trembling gently with the movement of his fingertips.

Xie Qinglan's fingers slid from his temples to his brow, then across his nose, and finally landed on the angle of his jaw—though she said she was applying medicine, her fingertips unconsciously lingered on his face for a few more moments.

Her fingertips brushed against his lips, warm and soft. He snapped back to reality, withdrew his hand, and then picked up some ointment to apply to his body.

He carefully cleaned every scratch on his shoulders and back, the bruises on his arms, and the scabs under his ribs, his fingertips moving with extreme gentleness, afraid of cracking the scabs.

His gaze swept over the scars, some deep and some shallow, and with each glance, his heart ached more.

The arrow wound under his ribs was the most severe, with the scab around it swollen and red. If he hadn't been physically strong, the infection alone would have been fatal.

Xiao Jingyuan felt the hand that was applying the ointment to his body trembling slightly.

He opened his eyes and looked down, seeing Xie Qinglan with her eyes lowered, her lips tightly pressed together, her profile pale and unreadable, though the slight trembling of her fingertips betrayed her emotions.

He suddenly reached out and gently grasped the hand that was applying medicine.

"It's okay. It hasn't hurt for a long time."

Xie Qinglan did not pull her hand away.

He stared at the gruesome arrow wound in silence for a long time before squatting down, rolling up Xiao Jingyuan's trouser leg, and continuing to apply medicine to the bruise on his knee.

"Alright." He put away the medicine pot, stood up, lowered his eyes, wrapped the cloth bag again, and placed it on the corner of the table.

"There is a traitor in the army. The terrain of Broken Eagle Gorge is treacherous. It would be impossible to lay a trap without someone familiar with the terrain setting up an ambush in advance. Only His Majesty's personal guards would know His Majesty's marching route."

"I am not comfortable seeking medical treatment here. Although the Western Rong have been pacified, there are still disloyalties among the various tribes, and the generals in the camp cannot be fully trusted. Tomorrow, I will find the traitor and then take Your Majesty back to the capital to properly treat your injuries."

Just as he finished speaking, a gust of wind blew through the curtain, causing the candlelight to flicker and casting the shadows of the two men onto the curtain, overlapping them.