The northwest frontier is a vast expanse of yellow sand.

The midday sun was scorching, sending shivers of heat rising from the ground. On the military training ground, shouts of battle echoed, and soldiers drilled under the blazing sun, sweat pouring down their faces. In the shade outside the mess hall, several soldiers who had just finished their shifts squatted on the ground, slurping down mung bean soup from rough earthenware bowls to cool off.

"Hey, did you see that? Doctor Luo went into the general's tent again." A dark-faced man nudged his companion with his elbow, winking and speaking in a very low voice.

"Tsk, running around eight hundred times a day! Changing dressings? You're kidding me! That injury has healed completely long ago!" Another tall, thin man sneered, glancing suggestively in the direction of Lu Zheng's tent. "If you ask me, our general's taste... tsk tsk, quite unique!"

“That’s right! That young Dr. Luo, with her delicate skin and soft voice, and her waist is so thin… tsk tsk, even thinner than a woman…” Before a slightly younger soldier could finish speaking, the old soldier slapped him on the back of the head.

"Shut up! You're asking for it!" The old soldier glared at him, looked around warily, and lowered his voice even further. "You know it in your heart! Why say it out loud? How does the general treat us? Who cares what he likes? As long as he can win battles and protect our brothers' lives, he's a good general! Besides," he gestured towards the main tent, "Dr. Luo's medical skills are truly impeccable. If it weren't for him last time, Old Wang's leg would have been ruined!"

The group immediately fell silent and nodded quietly. The "special" relationship between General Lu and the excessively handsome young doctor Luo was already an open secret among the lower-ranking soldiers. Although they found the general's "homosexuality" a bit strange, Lu Zheng was strict in his military discipline and led by example, while Luo Qingrou possessed superb medical skills and was dedicated to saving lives. Both were extremely popular with the troops, and this "quirk" became a slightly taboo topic of conversation in the otherwise monotonous military life, even subtly revealing a strange sense of pride that "our general is truly exceptional."

Inside the general's tent, the atmosphere was completely different from the heat and rumors outside.

Lu Zheng stood with his back to the tent flap, wearing only a thin undergarment. Luo Qingrou stood behind him, still in her faded coarse cloth military uniform, her hair tucked tightly into her hat, fine beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. She was carefully unwrapping the bandage from the old scar on his shoulder blade—the arrow wound had healed, but the new skin was red and itchy in the sweltering heat.

"Don't scratch," she whispered, her fingers lightly applying the cooling ointment to the reddened scars. The cool touch of her fingertips to the warm skin sent a shiver through them both.

"Mmm," Lu Zheng responded in a muffled voice, his body tense. He could clearly smell the faint scent of herbs mixed with sweat on her body, which was particularly noticeable in the small space.

The tent was so quiet that only the sound of their breathing and the soft rustling of ointment being applied could be heard. The air was thick and subtle.

“Um…” Lu Zheng cleared his throat, trying to break the unsettling silence. His voice was a little dry. “News just came from the capital. It seems that His Highness has caused quite a stir.” He briefly recounted the secret report from the shadow guards about the Crown Prince being “jealous” in Jiangnan and being paraded through the streets in a grand manner.

Luo Qingrou paused in applying the medicine, then looked up in surprise: "His Highness the Crown Prince... for Sister Shen, he actually..." She imagined the scene of the "treasure parade," and then thought of the Crown Prince's always calm and composed face, and couldn't help but burst out laughing, her eyes crinkling with girlish charm, "This is truly... an incredible amount of jealousy!"

Hearing her clear laughter and seeing her rare, bright smile, Lu Zheng felt a gentle tickle in his heart, like being lightly scratched by a feather. He turned around, his gaze falling on her face, which was covered in ointment but still delicate and lively. The wind and sand of the military camp had weathered her, but had not extinguished the pure light in her eyes.

“Yes,” Lu Zheng’s voice softened unconsciously, carrying a hint of doting that he himself was unaware of, “His Highness… when it comes to Miss Shen, it’s always… well, rather… special.” He couldn’t find a more fitting word to describe his wise and mighty master’s occasional “willfulness.”

His gaze was so focused that Luo Qingrou's smile slowly faded, replaced by a blush. She lowered her head somewhat flusteredly, continuing to apply the medicine, muttering softly, "That...that's fine too. Sister Chen is worth it." Her heart, however, was pounding fiercely.

Lu Zheng looked at her lowered, slightly trembling eyelashes, and the section of her fair and delicate neck peeking out from under her hat brim, and his Adam's apple bobbed silently. The thick, subtle atmosphere inside the tent seemed to have loosened because of the laughter just now, yet it was also silently brewing another kind of warm current that was even more thrilling.

He suddenly reached out, not to grab her hand, but to gently grasp her slender wrist. Her wrist seemed exceptionally fragile in his rough palm.

Luo Qingrou froze, abruptly raising her head to meet his deep eyes. There, she saw no longer the general's imposing presence, but a burning, intensely focused gaze she had never seen before, filled with a fierce longing.

“Qingrou,” Lu Zheng’s voice was low and hoarse, as if it had been sanded, “Once we return to the main camp after this rotation, the situation will be completely stable…” He paused, as if gathering his courage, each word carrying a burning heat, “I will write to His Highness and ask him to grant us a marriage.”

Boom! Luo Qingrou felt her mind go blank, her cheeks instantly burning hot, even her ears turning bright red. She subconsciously tried to pull her hand away, but Lu Zheng gripped it even tighter, the force carrying an undeniable firmness and tenderness.

"I...I..." she stammered, flustered, her eyes darting around, unable to look at him.

Just then, a loud, boisterous shout rang out from outside the tent: "Boss! Doctor Luo! The cook said there's chilled melon today! If we don't go grab it now, it'll be gone!" Accompanied by a rough laugh and the sound of footsteps approaching.

The romantic atmosphere inside the tent was instantly shattered. Luo Qingrou, like a startled rabbit, jerked her hand back, nearly dropping the ointment box. She frantically grabbed a bandage from the side and haphazardly wrapped it around Lu Zheng's shoulder, her voice trembling uncontrollably: "Okay...okay! General, remember not to get it wet!" With that, she picked up the medicine box, and without looking back, flung open the tent flap, practically shoving aside the guards about to enter, and vanished in a flash.

Lu Zheng, shirtless with several crooked bandages wrapped around his shoulder, stood facing the bewildered guards at the door. He sighed helplessly, but couldn't help but smile.