Hot flashes

For the next half day, Zhou Heng was completely distracted.

Just as he was so upset that he almost broke the charcoal pencil in his hand, Chen Zhen lifted the curtain and walked in.

"Commander Zhou." Chen Zhen's voice remained calm and composed, businesslike, and his gaze didn't linger on Zhou's face for even a second longer.

"Commander Chen." Zhou Heng quickly stood up, feeling inexplicably uneasy.

"The Marquis has ordered that your daily necessities be moved to the main tent." Chen Zhen's tone was calm, as if he were talking about something perfectly ordinary, "so that the Marquis can summon you at any time to ask for advice, and also to save you from having to travel around."

Zhou Heng's mind went blank, and his last bit of hope vanished.

"No, no need to trouble Commander Chen," Zhou Heng tried to make a last-ditch effort, his voice hoarse. "My barracks aren't far away. If Your Excellency has any orders, I'll be there immediately and wouldn't dare delay..."

Chen Zhen raised his eyes and looked at him calmly. "The Marquis's order has been issued." He only said these five words.

Zhou Heng was silenced.

Soon, two silent guards followed Chen Zhen to Zhou Heng's small, separate barracks. They moved swiftly and silently, beginning to pack Zhou Heng's belongings.

Actually, there wasn't much. A few sets of military and civilian uniforms to change into, an old cotton robe for warmth, a few books, some scraps of pens, ink, and paper, half a piece of firewood he hid under his pillow for self-defense, and most importantly, the white jade safety buckle he kept close to his body.

The items were taken out one by one, folded neatly, and placed into a small wooden box.

During this process, a number of people gradually gathered outside the barracks.

Some were colleagues who happened to be passing by, some were low-ranking officers from nearby barracks, and a few were colleagues who had been transferred to the central army around the same time as Zhou Heng and already had some subtle feelings about his "rocket-like rise".

They watched as Chen Zhen—the most trusted captain of the Marquis's personal guards—personally led a group of people to move Zhou's office. The destination of the move was none other than the Marquis's main tent!

Their gazes involuntarily fell on Zhou Heng.

That look was incredibly complex.

There was surprise, inquiry, realization, and subtle envy, but more than anything, there was a tacit, ambiguous scrutiny and understanding.

Zhou Heng could only keep his head down, staring at the ground, wishing that a crack would immediately appear in the ground so he could crawl into it.

Chen Zhen ignored everything around him and quickly finished packing. He gestured to his guards to close the lid of the trunk and then picked it up.

"Commander Zhou, please." Chen Zhen stepped aside and gestured.

Zhou Heng moved stiffly, following behind Chen Zhen, and walked out of the barracks.

Zhou Heng stiffly followed Chen Zhen toward the main tent, feeling like an unlucky fellow about to be led to the execution ground.

The gazes behind me were brighter than searchlights, and even when they were whispered, the murmurs buzzed in my ears like flies.

"See? They've all moved to the main tent..."

"It's not just about moving things; it seems like people will also need to be placed 'closely to' them, right?"

"I knew the Marquis treated him differently; now I see..."

Zhou Heng tried his best to maintain an expression that said, "I'm calm, I'm just working in a different place," but his steps became more and more unsteady, and his ears became hotter and hotter.

Upon arriving at the main tent, Chen Zhen gestured to his personal guards to carry the shabby little wooden box directly into the inner room.

Zhou Heng's eyelids twitched, and he quickly spoke, in a desperate attempt to persuade the Marquis: "Commander Chen, this...wouldn't it be alright to put it in the outer room? This humble general will wait here, so that it will be convenient for the Marquis to summon me at any time..."

Chen Zhen stopped and glanced back at him. His gaze was calm and unwavering, yet it made Zhou Heng's heart skip a beat.

"The Marquis has ordered," Chen Zhen's voice was as steady as ever, yet carried an unquestionable tone, "that since Military Advisor Zhou is already here on duty, to avoid the inconvenience of summoning him at night, all his daily activities shall be conducted in the inner room with the Marquis."

Zhou Heng: "!!!"

He opened his mouth, wanting to struggle a little more, but Chen Zhen had already turned back and said to his guards, "Put it down, just place it next to the Marquis's bed."

After saying that, he looked at Zhou Heng and added a sentence in a flat tone, as if he were saying that the weather was nice today: "The Marquis is considerate and said that there might not be enough charcoal outside, which could easily cause people to catch a cold and delay important matters."

Zhou Heng nearly choked. What was this? The secretary's desk outside the CEO's office? Or the eunuch's quarters outside the emperor's bedroom?

Chen Zhen instructed meticulously, "If the Marquis is discussing matters inside, you shall wait here for orders. If there is nothing else, you may also handle documents here."

Zhou Heng's lips twitched, and he replied dryly, "...This subordinate understands."

After Chen Zhen finished giving his instructions, he left with his men, leaving Zhou Heng alone, staring blankly at his new "workstation" and the curtain separating him from the inner room.

He slowly moved to the low couch and sat down, touching the mattress. Hmm, it was quite soft, much better than his old, broken folding bed.

He then glanced at the small table next to him, where a lamp and a set of writing brushes and ink were thoughtfully placed.

The treatment is not bad... Ugh! Zhou Heng shook his head violently, banishing this terrible thought.

As he was engaged in a fierce internal struggle with the low couch, the curtain to the inner room was suddenly lifted.

Xiao Jue came out, having changed into a dark-colored casual outfit, and was holding a scroll of documents in his hand. It seemed he had come out for some fresh air or to look for something.

Zhou Heng jolted awake, instinctively jumping to his feet and standing ramrod straight, almost knocking the low couch over: "Lord, Lord Marquis!"

Xiao Jue stopped in his tracks, his gaze falling on him, then sweeping over the low couch and wooden box behind him. His face remained expressionless, and he only gave a faint "hmm."

The atmosphere was a little awkward.

Zhou Heng didn't know what to do with his hands and feet.

Xiao Jue walked to the desk at the head of the table, sat down, and opened the documents, as if he were just an insignificant background figure.

Zhou Heng breathed a sigh of relief, but also felt inexplicably frustrated. He quietly sat back down on the low couch, trying to minimize his presence and pretend that he was just a quiet decoration.

But the placement of this "decoration" was far too conspicuous. Xiao Jue would occasionally look up, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over him.

Zhou Heng felt like he was sitting on pins and needles. He tried to find something to do, taking out the documents he had brought and pretending to read them, but he couldn't concentrate on a single word.

Time passed slowly, and the tent became so quiet that only the occasional crackling of the charcoal fire and the soft sound of Xiao Jue turning the pages of paper could be heard.