Hot flashes

Zhou Heng began to drift off into his own world.

He thought of the "mission" again. Progress had been made quite a bit, but wasn't the price a bit too high? Performing for money... oops! Not selling his body!

Just as all sorts of thoughts were racing through his mind, and his stomach started growling twice—

"Hungry?" Xiao Jue's voice suddenly rang out, flat and emotionless.

Zhou Heng jumped in fright, nearly dropping the charcoal pencil, and his face flushed red. Damn it, his stomach rumbling just in time!

"It's...it's alright..." he answered, forcing a smile, his voice barely audible.

Xiao Jue didn't say anything more, only giving a single order to the outside: "Bring the meal."

Soon, the guards brought in dinner. As usual, there were two portions: one was placed on Xiao Jue's table, and the other was placed on the small table in front of Zhou Heng.

Zhou Heng looked at the steaming food in front of him, which was obviously much more refined and plentiful than the food for ordinary soldiers, and then secretly glanced at Xiao Jue's side, and found that the dishes seemed to be the same.

This... equal treatment?

That strange, uneasy feeling resurfaced in his heart. What was this? A slap followed by a sweet treat? No, there wasn't a slap, it was just forced "cohabitation"...

"Eat." Xiao Jue had already picked up his chopsticks, his words concise and to the point.

Zhou Heng quickly picked up his bowl and buried himself in his food. The ancients were right: one should not speak while eating or sleeping. This awkward atmosphere was perfect for eating!

He ate very quickly, wanting nothing more than to finish this agonizing meal as soon as possible.

The meal ended amidst Zhou Heng's rambling thoughts and his frantic eating. After the dishes were cleared away, the tent returned to silence.

Xiao Jue continued to handle official business, while Zhou Heng was forced to adapt to his new "workstation," organizing and filing some less important documents.

He tried to move as quietly as possible, shrinking himself into a ball to minimize his presence.

As night deepened, the candlelight flickered inside the tent.

Zhou Heng started to feel sleepy, his eyelids drooping. He stole a glance at Xiao Jue, wondering... if he really was going to sleep here tonight?

Xiao Jue suddenly spoke, his tone unreadable: "It's getting late, let's rest."

Xiao Jue casually draped his outer robe over the screen beside him, then walked to the couch, sat down, and began to take off his boots.

"What are you standing there for?" Xiao Jue didn't even look up, his voice devoid of emotion. "There are military duties tomorrow, so get some rest."

"...Yes." Zhou Heng replied hastily, lingering by the bedside. He looked at the inner side that clearly belonged to Xiao Jue and the empty outer side next to his own box, his mind in turmoil.

Sleep? How? Am I really just going to lie down like this? Lying side by side with Xiao Jue on the same bed?

He felt his face start to burn again.

Xiao Jue had already taken off his outer clothes and lay down in only his inner clothes, with his eyes closed, seemingly preparing to fall asleep.

Zhou Heng gritted his teeth, made up his mind, and quickly took off his outer robe and boots, leaving only his inner garment. He carefully lay down on the edge of the bed.

He curled up as much as possible to create distance between himself and the person next to him, so that almost another person could lie down in between.

The lamps were blown out, plunging the tent into darkness.

It was eerily quiet. Zhou Heng could clearly hear his own heart pounding like a drum, and Xiao Jue's steady, long breaths beside him.

He lay there stiffly, not daring to move, all his senses heightened to the highest level, alert to the slightest movement around him.

Time ticked by, and just as Zhou Heng's nerves were about to snap, the person beside him suddenly moved.

Zhou Heng froze.

Then, an arm reached out, but it wasn't the kind of embrace that came last night; instead, it casually draped over the blanket beside his waist.

Zhou Heng held his breath.

The owner of that arm seemed to have simply adjusted his sleeping position, casually placing it on his arm without even using much force.

Even so, Zhou Heng felt as if he had been branded with a hot iron, and almost bounced up.

He gritted his teeth, cursing Xiao Jue in his mind eight hundred times over: "Just go to sleep, why are you putting your hands around like that! Don't you have any sense of boundaries?!"

He tried to quietly move a little closer to the edge of the bed, but he was already at the edge and would fall off if he moved any further.

Just as he was caught in a dilemma, cursing under his breath, the arm that was draped over his waist suddenly moved, and the palm slid down a little, patting him lightly through the thin blanket.

Zhou Heng: "!!!"

He froze completely, his mind a blank.

Before he could recover from the shock, the hand moved again. This time it wasn't patting, but rather a drowsy, indistinct rub on his waist, then down his waistline, giving that spot a light pinch.

Zhou Heng: "!!!"

He almost died on the spot!

This was unintentional?! What kind of kind person would accurately massage your back and butt while asleep?!

Zhou Heng was both ashamed and angry, his blood rushing to his head, and he wished he could jump up and fight Xiao Jue to the death.

But reason held him back.

Just as he was trembling with rage and cursing Xiao Jue's ancestors to the eighteenth generation in his mind, the evil hand seemed to finally be satisfied and returned to its previous casual position, remaining still.

Xiao Jue's breathing remained steady and long, as if everything that had just happened was merely Zhou Heng's illusion.

Zhou Heng lay in the darkness, staring wide-eyed at the top of the tent, feeling like a timid wife who had been groped by a rogue but dared not speak out, filled with grief and indignation, and utterly despondent.

Beside him, Xiao Jue, who seemed to be fast asleep, had a faint yet profound smile playing on his lips in the darkness.

This night was destined to be long for Zhou Heng.