Hot flashes

After three days of rest, the indescribable soreness and weakness in Zhou Heng's body finally subsided to the point of being negligible.

However, the psychological "trauma" obviously needs more time to heal—at least, when he stepped back into the central command tent to participate in military councils, his steps were hesitant, his eyes were unfocused, and he wished he could shrink himself into the most inconspicuous shadow in the corner.

The atmosphere inside the tent was solemn. Xiao Jue sat in the main seat, listening to Zhao Canjiang report on the situation of the mopping-up operations against the remaining forces around Yingyang.

His expression was stern, and his fingertips tapped the edge of the map lightly. Each soft sound resonated in the hearts of everyone present, and no one dared to slacken their efforts in the slightest.

Zhou Heng quietly slipped to his seat—at some point, the small table used for recording had been moved to the lower side closer to the main seat. It was still not particularly eye-catching, but with a glance, one could see Xiao Jue's profile clearly.

He sat down, tried to straighten his back, spread out his paper and pen, and pretended to be focused.

General Zhao mentioned a mountain stronghold occupied by bandits, whose terrain was treacherous, and that a direct assault might result in excessive losses.

Several generals expressed their opinions, some advocating a siege, others suggesting amnesty, and still others proposing a surprise attack with elite squads. A debate ensued.

Xiao Jue remained noncommittal, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally settling, seemingly unintentionally, on Zhou Heng, who was engrossed in taking notes.

"The Weekly Journal," he began, his voice low but instantly silencing the tent, "you've trained with the patrol team, engaging in small-scale raids and combat in dangerous terrain. What are your thoughts on that?"

Whoosh! All eyes turned to Zhou Heng.

Zhou Heng's hand trembled, and a drop of ink almost spilled onto the paper. He looked up and met Xiao Jue's calm and unwavering eyes, swallowing back the words, "What opinion could I possibly have?"

He composed himself, struggling to recall General Zhao's description, and combining it with his meager knowledge of ancient military affairs and the few films and television dramas he had watched, he forced a smile and said, "Uh... since you say the terrain is treacherous, a direct assault is difficult, a siege would be time-consuming, and the offer of amnesty may not be genuine... perhaps we could try 'creating chaos and coordinating an attack from within and without'?"

His words were vague, and several veteran generals in the tent frowned slightly, thinking that this was nothing but empty talk from a scholar.

Xiao Jue nodded, signaling him to continue: "Explain in detail."

Zhou Heng was caught in a dilemma, so he could only make up some random ideas: "For example, find out their usual routes for getting water, making purchases, or connecting with the outside world, set up an ambush to capture some of the bandits, and then disguise ourselves as their people to infiltrate... Or, do something wrong upstream of the mountain village's water source, without poisoning, just use some filthy things to make them panic, and then spread some rumors..." As he spoke, he realized that his idea was a bit bad, and his voice gradually became softer.

Someone inside the tent let out a dismissive snort.

Xiao Jue's fingers, which had been tapping on the map, stopped. He looked at Zhao, the adjutant general: "What is the bandit leader like? Does he have any factions under his command?"

Lieutenant Zhao was taken aback for a moment, then replied, "According to our investigation, the bandit leader is greedy and irritable, and unpopular. The second-in-command is his younger brother, who is rather cowardly, while the third-in-command is a later recruit who is quite brave and strong, and has already clashed with the bandit leader."

Xiao Jue turned his gaze back to Zhou Heng: "If you were the third leader, and the mountain stronghold's water source had been polluted, rumors were spreading that the bandit leader's perverse actions had brought divine punishment upon him, and you also heard that the Northern Liang army was pressing in, employing both suppression and appeasement tactics, what would you do?"

Zhou Heng hadn't expected Xiao Jue to actually follow up on his rambling and ask further questions. His mind raced: "I... I'd probably think that following my elder brother would only lead to certain death, so why not... atone for my sins with meritorious service?"

"Good." Xiao Jue's lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile, which quickly disappeared. He stopped looking at Zhou Heng and ordered Zhao Canjiang: "Following this line of thought, have the scouts thoroughly investigate the movements of the Third Leader and his confidants, and find out their patterns of activity."

Furthermore, the matter of spreading rumors will be handled by Mr. Du; it must be done "naturally." I need to see a flaw within five days.

General Zhao solemnly clasped his hands in a fist and said, "This subordinate obeys the order!" When he looked at Zhou Heng again, his eyes had lessened their contempt and increased their scrutiny.

Zhou Heng, however, was sweating profusely. He had just made up a complete story, but Xiao Jue had actually adopted it and even perfected it into a feasible plan.

This feeling... is like a child scribbling a line, but an adult following that line to create a detailed siege map. The pressure is immense.

The meeting continued. When the discussion turned to the allocation of military rations, Captain Liu, who was in charge of the rations, and Captain Sun, who was in charge of the vanguard battalion, started arguing over the amount to be allocated. Their voices grew louder and neither would give in.

As Zhou Heng listened to the dry numbers and routes, his eyelids began to droop.

He hadn't slept well last night, and now the charcoal fire inside the tent was warm. He forced himself to stay awake, his pen scribbling unconsciously on the paper, his consciousness gradually fading.

Suddenly, he felt something lightly touch his calf.

He was startled awake. He sat up abruptly and looked down—he saw the tip of Xiao Jue's boot, protruding from under the hem of his black and gold-embroidered robe, casually and slowly brushing against the side of his calf.

The actions were extremely discreet, and only the two of them knew about them, hidden by the large table.

Here we go again!

Zhou Heng felt a chill run down his spine, his face flushed red, and he tried to pull his leg back as if he'd been electrocuted, only to find that his other leg was pressed tightly against the table leg, unable to move. He suddenly looked up and glared at Xiao Jue.

Xiao Jue was listening to Captain Liu's statement, his profile was cold and hard, his brows slightly furrowed, as if his whole mind was focused on military affairs. Only the toe of his boot hidden under the table, with its irresistible force and a hint of intimate rubbing, reminded Zhou Heng of his presence.

Zhou Heng was both ashamed and angry, but dared not utter a sound. He could only stiffen his body and feel the slow, persistent friction transmitted through his clothes. The heat spread from the place that was touched, making his heart beat erratically.

Above, Commandant Sun spoke in a loud voice, insisting on his opinion. Xiao Jue finally spoke, his tone calm yet decisive: "Commander Liu's considerations are thorough; the safety of the grain supply route is of utmost importance."

"Commander Sun, your camp's rations can last for ten days. Subsequent supplies will be distributed priority upon arrival via the new route. This matter requires no further discussion."

Commander Sun opened his mouth, seemingly unwilling, but seeing Xiao Jue's cold expression, he ultimately dared not say anything more and clasped his hands in agreement.

The tormenting boot tip finally stopped and calmly withdrew from the table.

Zhou Heng breathed a sigh of relief, only then realizing that his palms were slightly damp. He secretly glanced at Xiao Jue, who had already picked up his teacup, lowered his eyes, and sipped lightly, his posture elegant and composed, as if the person who had been making a fuss under the table just now was not him at all.

The meeting continued for another half hour. Zhou Heng dared not lose focus any longer, sitting upright until Xiao Jue announced the adjournment of the meeting.

Everyone bowed and left. Zhou Heng packed his things, moving slowly, wanting to wait until everyone had left before slipping away.

"Zhou Heng," Xiao Jue's voice rang out. He had already risen from the main seat and walked to the huge map hanging to the side. "You stay."

Zhou Heng's heart skipped a beat, and he slowly walked over: "Does Your Excellency have any further instructions?"

With his back to him, Xiao Jue's gaze fell on a certain point on the map, and he asked a completely unrelated question: "Are you still using the ointment?"

Zhou Heng's face flushed, and he mumbled, "...It's alright."

"Hmm." Xiao Jue responded, turned around, and looked at his face. Suddenly, he reached out and gently brushed his lower eyelid with the pad of his thumb. "Your complexion is still a bit poor. Chen Zhen found some mild tonic herbs in Yingyang Prefecture's treasury. I'll have the kitchen prepare them for you later."