Hot flashes

His movements were natural, and his tone was ordinary, as if he were giving an order for something as mundane as a business matter.

"No, no need to trouble yourself..." Zhou Heng subconsciously wanted to decline.

"No trouble at all." Xiao Jue interrupted him, his tone calm yet firm. "Now that you're under my command, your body isn't just your own anymore. Yingyang has just been pacified, and there are many complicated matters to attend to. I'll need your help in many ways."

These words sounded so grand and righteous that Zhou Heng was momentarily speechless. He hesitated for a moment, then said in a low voice, "...Thank you, Lord Marquis."

Xiao Jue glanced at him, said nothing more, and only said, "Go. Don't be late for dinner."

Zhou Heng felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and quickly left the tent with his belongings. It wasn't until he had walked quite a distance and was exposed to a cold wind that the heat on his face subsided slightly.

Inside the central command tent, Xiao Jue remained standing before the map. Chen Zhen entered silently and reported in a low voice, "My lord, Zheng Huai's illegitimate daughter and her wet nurse have died suddenly. Zheng Huai, in fear, offered half of the city's savings as a token of loyalty. The traces of the poisoning have been completely erased."

Xiao Jue hummed in response, his gaze still sweeping across the map, as if he were dealing with a trivial matter.

"The journal office over there..." Chen Zhen hesitated for a moment.

"He doesn't need to know these dirty secrets," Xiao Jue said calmly, pointing his finger at a strategic point on the map. "Protect him. Also, the method of using water to harass the enemy that he mentioned today, though seemingly naive, has its ingenious aspects."

The scout battalion was instructed to pay closer attention to subtle details such as the target's internal dynamics and habits when gathering intelligence in the future.

"Yes."

Chen Zhen accepted the order and withdrew. Silence returned to the tent.

Xiao Jue shifted his gaze from the map to the direction of the tent flap, where it was already empty. His eyes were deep and dark, reflecting the flickering candlelight.

Ever since that unspoken barrier was broken, Zhou Heng discovered that his understanding of the word "night" had undergone a dramatic and extremely painful change.

During the day, Xiao Jue remains the same authoritative, commanding, and enigmatic Marquis of Zhenbei.

When discussing military matters, deciding on political affairs, training troops, and conducting inspections, no one dared not hold their breath and concentrate wherever his gaze fell.

But once the sun sets and night falls like ink on the sky, Zhou Heng feels the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand up.

The marquis seemed to have a dangerous switch flipped by the night; the deep pool in his eyes, which had been calming all day, began to ripple with an unmistakable, focused, and fervent undercurrent.

The gaze fell upon him, slowly and deliberately surveying him, as if weighing where to begin for the most delicious taste.

His energy and needs were so strong that Zhou Heng suspected he had secretly taken some kind of super tonic.

Moreover, this person seemed to have no concept of "moderation," and would only stop when Zhou Heng was so tired that he could no longer lift his fingers and was whimpering and begging for mercy.

When Zhou Heng woke up the next day, despite the relief from the special ointment, the deep-seated soreness made his legs weak and his eyes unfocused all day. When his colleagues asked, he could only stammer that it was "acclimatization problems" or "didn't sleep well last night".

Thus began Zhou Heng's arduous life of "hide-and-seek".

"General Zhao! You've worked hard practicing the new formation today! Come on, come on, I still have some good wine that I borrowed from the Yingyang Prefecture treasury... oh no, it's City Lord Zheng's generous donation. Come to my tent for a couple of drinks and let's chat about formations!"

As evening approached and duty ended, Zhou Heng swiftly grabbed Zhao, the military officer, who was preparing to return to camp, with a broad smile on his face.

Looking at Zhou Heng's fervent, almost fawning smile, and then noticing the lingering red mark on his neck, Zhao, whose face twitched almost imperceptibly, said solemnly:

"I appreciate Secretary Zhou's kind offer, but the Marquis has ordered me to patrol the camp and check the sentries tonight, so the wine will be waived. Farewell." With that, he clasped his hands in a fist salute, turned around, and walked with firm steps, showing no sign of lingering.

Zhou Heng's smile froze on his face.

"Mr. Du! Mr. Du, please wait!" Undeterred, he turned to the elderly and seemingly most approachable Mr. Du. "I've been studying history recently and have some questions I'd like to ask you. Would you be so kind as to spare some time to have some dinner and a few drinks with me, and we can chat at length?"

Mr. Du stroked his beard and smiled kindly: "It's good that Secretary Zhou is so diligent and inquisitive. However, I'm getting old, so I need to eat light meals at night, and I absolutely cannot drink alcohol."

Moreover, the Marquis just instructed that several important documents need to be processed overnight, and I'm afraid I'll have to stay up all night. Perhaps we can discuss this matter during the day tomorrow?" The reasoning was sound and unassailable.

Zhou Heng: "..."

He refused to believe in superstition and tried to win over a few of his clerk colleagues whom he could usually talk to, but they either had family matters to attend to or suddenly had stomach aches.

Zhou Heng stood on the gradually emptying training ground, watching the last rays of sunset swallowed by the twilight, feeling only the desolation of the evening wind and the decline of human nature.

Sure enough, before he could even get to his tent, Chen Zhen appeared beside him like a ghost and announced in a measured tone, "Secretary Zhou, the Marquis is waiting for you in his tent for your meal."

Zhou Heng made a last-ditch effort: "Commander Chen, I suddenly remembered that I forgot to transcribe an urgent military report. I'll go right away..."

"The Marquis said that the military report is not urgent and can be dealt with tomorrow. Dinner will get cold and it's not good for the stomach." Chen Zhen interrupted him, his tone flat, but his figure firmly blocked his way to the document treasury.

Looking at Chen Zhen's expressionless face, Zhou Heng swallowed hard, resignedly turned around, and dragged his leaden legs, taking one step at a time, toward the brightly lit main tent, which at this moment looked to him like a den of dragons and tigers.

Inside the tent, a table was set out with four dishes and a soup. It wasn't extravagant, but it was exquisite and delicious. These were dishes that he had unintentionally taken a few extra bites of on ordinary days.

Xiao Jue had removed his armor, wearing only a moon-white undergarment and a dark-colored casual robe, and was sitting behind his desk reading a book.

The candlelight outlined his tall, straight shoulders and back. His profile was serene, giving him the air of a refined young nobleman studying late into the night—if one ignored the aura emanating from him that made Zhou Heng's legs tremble even more.

"Come here," Xiao Jue said calmly without looking up.

Zhou Heng moved over and sat down on the other side of the table, picked up his chopsticks, but ate without tasting anything.