Hot flashes

He let Zhou Heng pat the crumpled military report on his chest, but he didn't let go. Instead, he leaned back and sank into the soft animal skin rug with Zhou Heng.

"I don't want to look." He buried his face in Zhou Heng's neck, took a deep breath, as if the skin carried a fragrance that could soothe all his anxiety. "I'm tired. Read it to me."

"You..." Zhou Heng was pinned down by him, and tried to push him away with his hands and feet, but it was like an ant trying to shake a tree.

The morning sunlight shone through the gaps in the curtains, falling directly on his flushed face, his eyelashes trembling violently with anger and shame.

Xiao Jue raised his head and stared at his vivid and lively appearance up close, his eyes darkening further.

He lowered his head, and this time it was no longer a prank kiss or a sneak attack, but an extremely gentle, delicate kiss on his brow, eyelids, and nose tip, before finally covering his swollen lips again, lingering and caressing them tenderly.

All of Zhou Heng's struggles and anger gradually dissipated under the erosion of this almost cherished tenderness.

He closed his eyes, thinking resignedly, "Forget it, why bother arguing with a wounded soldier..."

The morning passed quietly amidst the intermittent chanting, the occasional interruptions, and the increasingly long kisses and caresses.

By lunchtime, the military report was finally read aloud with some difficulty. Zhou Heng's lips were swollen, his clothes were disheveled, and his waist was sore and red from being kneaded. He looked as if he had been steamed, radiating heat and shame.

Xiao Jue, however, was in high spirits, and the injury on his left shoulder seemed to have improved a lot due to this "rest," at least his movements were no longer noticeably stiff.

He personally brought lunch, and even picked up a piece of tender bamboo shoot and held it to Zhou Heng's lips in a rather cheerful mood.

Zhou Heng turned his head away, not wanting to pay him any attention.

"Not eating?" Xiao Jue raised an eyebrow, ate the bamboo shoot slices himself, and then said slowly, "There are still three maps to check this afternoon, along with Huo Yizhong's deployment predictions..."

"I'll eat it!" Zhou Heng gritted his teeth, snatched the chopsticks, and viciously stabbed at the rice in the bowl, as if the rice were the embodiment of some hateful person.

Xiao Jue looked at his profile, a smile flashing in his eyes.

The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, cutting soft, interlaced light and shadow on the thick carpet. Dust motes danced in the air, and time seemed to stretch out and become languid in this warmth.

Zhou Heng lay on his side next to Xiao Jue, his head resting on the crook of Xiao Jue's uninjured arm, holding a volume of the latest hydrological records of the Canghe River in his hands, and was reading it with a furrowed brow.

Xiao Jue leaned against the soft pillow, his other hand casually resting on his bent knee, his fingertips lightly combing Zhou Heng's hair that was draped in his arm.

Xiao Jue's movements were slow and gentle, as if he were afraid of disturbing something, or as if he was simply absorbed in this simple repetition.

He slowly stroked Zhou Heng's hair from root to tip, occasionally tucking a few unruly stray strands behind his ear. His knuckles inadvertently brushed against the warm earlobe, while the person in his arms remained mostly focused on the scroll in his hands.

"This section of Liulin Ferry," Zhou Heng suddenly spoke, his voice clear and soft in the quiet tent. He tilted his head slightly, nuzzling Xiao Jue's arm with the back of his head, but his gaze remained on the paper. "It says that after last year's autumn flood, the river channel shifted half a mile north, and most of the old ferry crossing was silted up... This map was drawn last year, so the markings are inaccurate."

"Hmm." Xiao Jue responded, his gaze falling on the section of Zhou Heng's fair neck exposed by tilting his head back. The sunlight shone on it, revealing fine downy hairs and pale blue veins under the skin.

He picked up a strand of hair, twirled it between his fingers, then let it fall. "If Huo Yi chooses Liulin Ferry, he will surely dredge it first. The commotion will be significant. Have scouts keep an eye out for any signs of new soil piling up or laborers gathering near the ferry crossing."

"Understood," Zhou Heng replied softly, turning the page with a crisp, soft rustling sound.

He read a few more lines, then suddenly laughed, his shoulders twitching slightly. "This scribe is quite amusing. He says the fishing season near Black Rock is excellent, with local fishermen catching foot-long silver carp in October... Could he have gone to scout the area and fished on the side?"

The laughter was soft, with a touch of playful teasing, which made Xiao Jue's arm go slightly numb.

Xiao Jue lowered his eyes, looking at Zhou Heng's upturned lips and the fleeting sparkle in his eyes. He didn't even realize that a very faint smile had appeared on his lips.

He didn't reply, but simply moved his hand away from Zhou Heng's hair and placed it on his shoulder, gently kneading the somewhat thin shoulder through the thin spring shirt.

"Take a break if you're tired," Xiao Jue said, his voice lower and slower than usual.

"Not tired." Zhou Heng shook his head, but then slid his body down to find a more comfortable position, almost embedding himself in Xiao Jue's side, his head resting on the outside of his strong thigh, and holding the scroll in front of his eyes to continue reading.

This posture allowed his neck to relax completely, and Xiao Jue's hand naturally returned to his hair, continuing the slow combing.

The tent grew quieter, with only the occasional sound of Zhou Heng turning pages and the steady, intertwined breathing of the two.

The sunlight shifted quietly, casting the two figures leaning against each other onto the tent wall, blurring the boundaries and blurring them into a warm, inky hue.

Xiao Jue no longer focused his gaze on any particular place, but rather let it drift aimlessly with the dust particles floating in the pillar of light.

As Zhou Heng read on, his eyelids gradually grew heavy. The tension and toil of the past few days finally found an opening to retaliate in the undisturbed warmth of this afternoon.

The words on the scroll began to blur and double, and his arm holding the scroll felt a little sore. He yawned slightly, and a little bit of tears welled up in the corner of his eye.

Xiao Jue noticed that his body was gradually relaxing and sinking, and his hand paused slightly in combing.

He looked down and saw Zhou Heng's thick eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings, trying to resist the invasion of sleepiness, the scroll in his hand had already slipped crookedly to his chest.

He didn't make a sound to disturb them, but simply moved even more quietly and slowly.

Her fingertips brushed through Zhou Heng's hair as if caressing the finest quicksand, with an almost instinctive tenderness. Her other hand gently took the shaky scroll from Zhou Heng's hands and placed it aside.

Zhou Heng mumbled something indistinctly, without opening his eyes. He unconsciously shrank deeper into the heat source, rubbing his cheek against the fabric of Xiao Jue's leg. He completely gave up resisting, and his breathing quickly became even and long.

Xiao Jue remained motionless, maintaining his posture. Sunlight fell on his profile, outlining a rare softness beneath his hard lines.

He gazed at Zhou Heng's unguarded sleeping face. Those brows and eyes, which always held a hint of alertness, fear, or anger, relaxed, revealing an extraordinary tranquility, even a touch of childlike innocence. His lips were slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of his pearly white front teeth.

As he looked at it, a hard and cold place in Xiao Jue's heart seemed to be gently softened by the afternoon sun and the warmth of the person in his arms.

Those military affairs, powerful enemies, blood feuds, and ambitions that weighed heavily on his mind seemed to have temporarily receded into the distance.

He leaned down very gently and slowly, and his lips touched Zhou Heng's smooth forehead with a silent kiss, like a dragonfly skimming the water.

Then, he leaned back against the soft pillow, closed his eyes, but his hand, which was resting on Zhou Heng's hair, never left.

Outside the tent, the spring breeze brushed past the corner of the flag, bringing with it the hazy scent of new green from the distant mountains.

I managed to steal half a day of leisure from my busy life.