"Oh?" Lu Zheng's gaze fell on the curtain again, a hint of scrutiny in his eyes. "A new handyman? He's quite clever. Where is he?"
Old Chen's eyelids twitched, and he hurriedly said, "That little brat is clumsy and might offend the general, so I sent him to the back to organize the medicinal herbs."
Lu Zheng's gaze lingered on the gray-blue hem of the garment for a moment. The hem seemed to tremble slightly. That strange feeling resurfaced in his heart, but was ultimately suppressed by heavier thoughts. He nodded: "In that case, do your job well. Old Chen, please take good care of my injuries." He raised his hand, habitually reaching into his robes, his fingertips touching the soft silk handkerchief, a faint scent of apricot blossoms seeming to linger in his nostrils once more.
This subtle movement caught Old Chen's eye. The old military doctor's eyes flickered, but he said nothing more.
"It is my duty as a subordinate." Lu Zheng withdrew his hand, gave a few more instructions on epidemic prevention in the camp, and then turned and left the medical tent with his personal guards. The heavy footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Only when the footsteps completely disappeared into the wind did Luo Qingrou, huddled in the shadow of the pile of herbs behind the curtain, dare to breathe heavily. Cold sweat had already soaked through her inner clothes. She covered her mouth tightly, suppressing the violent pounding of her heart and the tears that almost spilled out. Through the curtain, she could almost feel the cool breeze he had left behind, carrying his familiar scent mixed with leather and dust.
So close... just a tiny bit more...
She slowly released her grip, her fingernails digging deep crescent-shaped marks into her palm. In the darkness, she groped around and pulled a small, neatly folded silk handkerchief from the pocket close to her body. Embroidered in the corner was a small, faded apricot blossom. Her fingertips trembled as she traced the supple threads and the outline of the petals. She buried her face in the handkerchief, greedily inhaling its now faint, almost imperceptible scent, yet one etched into her very being.
Outside the tent, the wind howled and sandstorms swept across the desolate borderland.
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