The winds of the northwestern frontier, carrying the harshness of sand and gravel, relentlessly whipped through the tents day and night. Luo Qingrou tightened her faded old military cap, carefully tucking away a few unruly strands of hair. Carrying a freshly brewed medicinal soup, she walked steadily toward Lu Zheng's main camp. Her coarse cloth uniform was loose, and even the deliberately tightened belt couldn't conceal her slender figure, a woman's frame. Yet, years of military service had honed her into a soldier's agility and composure. The high command tacitly understood, while the lower-ranking soldiers only knew her as "Little Doctor Luo," a highly trusted physician of the young master Lu, renowned for her exceptional medical skills, especially in treating various external injuries.

Inside the tent, Lu Zheng was looking down at the sand table, his brows slightly furrowed. Hearing familiar footsteps, he looked up, and when his gaze fell on her, his coldness softened unconsciously.

"The medicine is ready." Luo Qingrou placed the medicine bowl on the table, her voice deliberately low and steady.

"Mm." Lu Zheng responded, picked up the medicine bowl and drank it all in one gulp without even frowning. He put down the bowl, his gaze sweeping over her forehead, which was peeking out from under her hat brim and glistening with a thin layer of sweat. "Are you done with things at the wounded soldiers' camp?"

"I just finished changing the medication," Luo Qingrou said softly, picking up the empty bowl to leave.

"Wait a minute." Lu Zheng called out to her, picked up a paper package from the table and handed it to her, "These are freshly baked naan breads from the kitchen, still warm, have some to tide you over."

Luo Qingrou hesitated for a moment, but still accepted it. The instant their fingertips touched, they both quickly looked away. Silence fell over the tent, broken only by the ticking of the water clock beside the sand table and the howling wind outside.

The wounded soldiers' camp was filled with the strong smell of herbs and sweat. Luo Qingrou was squatting in front of a young soldier with a leg injury, deftly unwrapping the old bandages and examining the wound. Her expression was focused, and her movements were quick and steady.

"Ouch! Dr. Luo, please be gentle! Be gentle!" the soldier cried out, grimacing.

A seasoned veteran standing nearby, munching on a blade of grass, chuckled and teased, "Zhu Zi, what are you yelling about! You should be secretly thrilled that Dr. Luo will personally change your dressing! Dr. Luo is the best he ever gets at the General's place!"

“Exactly!” Another soldier with a sling immediately chimed in, winking and making faces. “Our general’s gaze, tsk tsk, every time Doctor Luo enters the tent, it’s like he’s welded to him! Zhu Zi, look at your leg injury, if Doctor Luo even glances at you, it’s a miracle you’ve been blessed!”

A burst of knowing laughter immediately filled the tent. The soldiers looked at Luo Qingrou with mischievous eyes and a kind of self-righteous "understanding."

Luo Qingrou's movements remained perfectly steady, though a faint blush crept onto her ears. She kept her voice low and calm: "Stop gossiping. If the wound reopens, you'll be bedridden for three months."

The soldier named Zhu Zi immediately fell silent, while the veterans next to him laughed even harder.

"Look! Dr. Luo is feeling sorry for her!"

"If the general finds out, won't he punish us with a beating?"

"Hehe, that's worth it! To see the general lose his temper for... cough cough, for Doctor Luo!"

Luo Qingrou quickly treated her wound, wrapped it with a fresh, clean bandage, stood up expressionlessly, picked up the used waste basin, and turned to leave. The unrestrained whispers behind her, however, clearly reached her ears:

"Hey, do you think the general... really likes this kind of thing?"

"Of course it's true! Look at Dr. Luo's physique, so fair and delicate, he speaks softly and speaks so gently, he's so meticulous in his work, even more so than a woman... cough!"

"Shh! Keep your voice down! If the general hears us, we'll all be in big trouble!"

"What are you afraid of? The general himself didn't hide anything! Didn't you all see when Fatty Wang barged into the tent last time and caught the general wiping Doctor Luo's sweat? Tsk tsk, that look, that movement... oh my!"

"Really?"

"It's absolutely true! Fatty Wang said it himself! He was so scared that he rolled out of there right then and there!"

Luo Qingrou paused, her fingers tightening slightly as she held the basin, her knuckles turning white. She quickened her pace, almost fleeing the noisy, ambiguous atmosphere.

At dusk, in the open space outside the kitchen, soldiers gathered in twos and threes around the campfire, eating dry rations and drinking hot soup. Lu Zheng also sat on a rock with a rough porcelain bowl, listening to several captains report on the patrol situation.

Luo Qingrou sat alone in the shadows a little further away, taking small bites of the naan bread Lu Zheng had given her, trying to ignore the occasional probing and teasing glances that drifted over.

"General!" A centurion, a little tipsy, mustered his courage and approached with a fawning yet lewd smile. "Well... we see you... cough cough, you don't seem to have anyone who cares about you... This young Doctor Luo is indeed a remarkable person, isn't he? You have a sharp eye!"

Lu Zheng paused, his hand holding the bowl still, and his eyes instantly turned cold, like an icy blade, slowly sweeping towards the centurion.

The centurion was startled by his gaze, sobered up considerably, and embarrassed, dared not say another word.

Another, more quick-witted captain nearby immediately tried to smooth things over and change the subject: "General, look at this sandstorm; it seems we're in for another drought this spring..."

Lu Zheng ignored him, his gaze sweeping over the soldiers who had fallen silent, finally settling on the figure in the shadows, head bowed, almost shrinking away. A nameless anger rose within him, both from the rumors and from heartache for Luo Qingrou's plight. He slammed the rough porcelain bowl he was holding onto the ground with a dull thud.

"Listen up, all of you!" Lu Zheng's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a steely, murderous aura forged on the battlefield, clearly drowning out the crackling of the campfire. "Doctor Luo is my savior, the best physician in this camp! How many of your lives has his medical skills saved? Hmm?!"

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