Hot flashes

The scab on the wound has completely fallen off, leaving a faint pink mark of new flesh. Although there is still a slight pulling sensation when moving the right shoulder, it no longer interferes with daily life.

Zhou Heng felt that things were much better now. His heart, which had been tormented by being confined to the small tent and receiving "special treatment" from a certain marquis day and night, was now restless. He just wanted to return to normal military life as soon as possible—even if it was just going to the document room and facing a pile of boring account books, it would be better than being here.

In the early morning, he had just neatly put on his inner garment and was bending down to put on his boots when the curtain was lifted and Xiao Jue returned from his morning exercise, dressed in a thin, close-fitting outfit, with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and slightly short of breath.

His gaze swept over Zhou Heng's slender waistline and taut leg lines as he bent over, and without stopping, he walked straight up to him.

Zhou Heng felt a chill run down his spine and quickly straightened up: "My Lordship."

"Hmm." Xiao Jue responded, but reached out, not to help him up, but very naturally to straighten his collar, which had been slightly askew during his earlier movements.

Her fingertips brushed lightly across the skin on the side of his neck, carrying the warmth of his sweat.

Zhou Heng stiffened and shrank back slightly: "...I can do it myself."

Xiao Jue ignored his evasive maneuver, his fingers sliding along the edge of his collar to his collarbone, seemingly checking the fabric for smoothness. He paused for a moment before withdrawing his hand. "Today's meeting concerns spring planting and the allocation of military farms. You will accompany me."

"Yes." Zhou Heng replied with his head down, but in his heart he thought: If you're going to have a meeting, then have a meeting. Why are you getting physical?

Also, this spring plowing and military settlement... why is he working with a clerk and military advisor? Shouldn't he be looking for someone from the household administration department?

Upon arriving at the main tent for the meeting, Zhou Heng discovered that his seat had been arranged to the left of Xiao Jue's main desk, almost right next to him, while Mr. Du, who was originally supposed to sit there, had been politely invited to sit a little further away on the right.

The gazes of his subordinates and officers swept over his "special" position to varying degrees. Zhou Heng felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, and could only try to straighten his back and pretend to be focused on studying the blank paper in front of him.

The deliberation process was lengthy, involving money, grain, population, and complicated figures.

Zhou Heng initially tried to concentrate on listening, but these specific administrative matters were not his forte, and as he listened, he began to drift off, his gaze involuntarily wandering towards the spring light filtering in from outside the tent.

Suddenly, he felt something touch his calf. Looking down, he saw it was the tip of Xiao Jue's boot, seemingly unintentionally, gently pressing against the outside of his calf.

Through the clothing, you can feel the hardness of the leather and the other person's body temperature.

Zhou Heng instantly stiffened, trying to subtly move his leg away.

As soon as he moved, the toe of the boot moved with him, maintaining that elusive touch, even brushing very lightly against the side of his calf.

Zhou Heng: "!!!"

He suddenly looked up at Xiao Jue. Xiao Jue was listening to a report from a military officer, his profile was stern, his brows slightly furrowed, seemingly completely absorbed in military affairs, only his fingers resting on the table tapping unconsciously and rhythmically.

Was it...unintentional? It must have been an accidental touch! Zhou Heng tried desperately to convince himself, but the sensation of the touch was too clear, and...how could there be an accidental touch with a smudge?!

He froze, too afraid to move, feeling as if the small patch of skin that had been touched had been electrocuted, a tingling, itchy sensation shooting all the way to his scalp.

During the latter half of the meeting, he barely heard anything, focusing all his attention on fighting the agonizing sensation on his calf and controlling his expression.

After finally enduring the meeting and everyone dispersing, Zhou Heng felt as if he had been granted a pardon and immediately wanted to slip away.

"Zhou Heng," Xiao Jue called out to him.

Zhou Heng paused, sighing inwardly, then turned and bowed his head: "Does Your Excellency have any further instructions?"

Xiao Jue stood up from behind the desk, walked to him, looked at his face for a moment, and then suddenly reached out and wiped the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb.

Zhou Heng jumped back in fright, covered his mouth, and looked on with suspicion and uncertainty.

"It's stained with ink." Xiao Jue withdrew his hand, and sure enough, there was a very faint ink stain on his fingertip, probably from Zhou Heng unconsciously biting the pen handle when he was distracted earlier.

His tone remained calm. "This afternoon, compile the agreed-upon spring plowing provisions into a written document and send it to me."

"...Yes." Zhou Heng's face flushed red and then turned pale.

In the evening, Zhou Heng finally finished dealing with those tedious entries and took the organized documents to the main tent to find Xiao Jue. Only Xiao Jue was in the tent, looking at a map.

"My lord, here are the documents you requested." Zhou Heng placed the documents on the table and was about to leave.

"Hmm." Xiao Jue responded, but instead of looking at the document, he pointed to a spot on the map. "Come and take a look. The course of the river here seems to differ from what you described in the fragment of the 'Geography Records' you mentioned before."

Zhou Heng had no choice but to walk over and stand beside Xiao Jue, looking down at the map. The two were very close, and he could smell the faint scent of soap on Xiao Jue.

Xiao Jue traced the map with his finger, explaining the terrain.

As he spoke, his arm seemed to rise unintentionally, wrapping loosely around Zhou Heng's waist and resting on the edge of the table, forming a posture that half-encircled Zhou Heng in his arms.

Zhou Heng's muscles tensed instantly, and his breathing faltered. He could even feel the heat and steady heartbeat emanating from Xiao Jue's chest.

"Look here," Xiao Jue's voice rang in his ears, deep and calm, his breath brushing against his earlobe, "If it's the flood season, the water will change course here, and this military settlement might be affected. Where exactly is the 'ancient riverbed' ruins you mentioned?"

Zhou Heng's mind was a complete mess. What ancient riverbed? He had long forgotten the details he had made up back then!

He forced himself to concentrate on the map and pointed randomly to a location: "Roughly...is this it?"

"Here?" Xiao Jue's tone rose slightly, tinged with doubt. He moved closer, almost touching Zhou Heng's back, and reached out with his other hand, placing it over Zhou Heng's hand pointing at the map, guiding his finger a little to the side. "Judging from the terrain, it should be further southeast. Look, this line..."

His hand completely enveloped Zhou Heng's hand, his palm warm and dry, his fingertips calloused, stroking the back of Zhou Heng's hand.

Zhou Heng's hands were stiff as wood. He was being led around on the map, but he couldn't feel the texture of the map at all. He could only feel the undeniable touch on the back of his hand and the aggressive body heat pressed against his back.

"I...I understand..." Zhou Heng's voice was hoarse, and he just wanted to break free as soon as possible.

Xiao Jue seemed not to hear him, maintaining the same posture, asking a few more questions based on the map before slowly letting go and taking a step back.

Zhou Heng immediately jumped back like a startled rabbit, taking two steps back to create distance. His face was burning hot, and his heart was pounding wildly.

Xiao Jue seemed oblivious, turned around and sat back down at his desk, picked up the documents Zhou Heng had just brought, and began to read them, his tone as usual: "They're reasonably well organized. Go back now."

"...This subordinate takes his leave." Zhou Heng left the main tent almost as if he were fleeing.

"That old scoundrel! A repressed pervert!" Zhou Heng couldn't help but mutter under his breath, his face a mixture of anger, shame, and annoyance.