They returned to the Prince's residence that evening (Xiao Chengjing also had a residence in the capital). The children, tired from playing, went to bed early. Xiao Chengjing and Shen Yuewei sat in the pavilion in the courtyard, bathed in the gentle moonlight.
"Chengjing," Shen Yuewei gently held her husband's hand, feeling the slight coolness of his palm, "Are you still worried about An'an?"
Xiao Chengjing sighed and placed the little clay figure on the stone table. In the moonlight, the figure's shadow was stretched long. "How can I not worry? That girl... she's too bold. The northern frontier is bitterly cold, and there's war going on... Is there still no news from Brother Lu and my younger brother?"
Shen Yuewei shook her head, her eyes filled with longing: "No. But no news is perhaps the best news. An'an is clever and has medical skills; she'll surely turn misfortune into good fortune." She picked up the little clay figure and gently stroked it. "Look, the children all remember what their sister looks like; even the old man at the clay figurine stall can sculpt a resemblance. Our An'an, wherever she is, is the most special."
Looking at his wife's gentle profile, Xiao Chengjing felt his anxiety subside somewhat. He took Shen Yuewei's hand in return: "Yes. If there is still no definite news after some time, I will personally... go to the vicinity of the Northern Frontier."
“Okay.” Shen Yuewei leaned on his shoulder, gazing at the starry sky in the northern direction. “Let’s wait together for our daughter to come home.”
On a night in the northern military camp, the moonlight cast a soft glow across the empty drill ground. Lu Xiao, feeling troubled, practiced alone under the moonlight, spear in hand. The spear flashed, whistling through the air, as if releasing the pent-up frustration and confusion within him.
After finishing a set of marksmanship, he was slightly out of breath, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Just as he was about to put away his gun, he caught a glimpse of a slender figure at the edge of the training ground, carrying a bundle of dried herbs, seemingly preparing to return it to the medicine tent. It was Anping.
As if guided by some unseen force, Lu Xiao called out loudly, "Dr. An!"
An An paused, turned around while holding the herbs, and the moonlight illuminated his dark but well-defined face. His eyes held a questioning look and his usual aloofness: "What are your orders, Your Highness?"
Lu Xiao walked over, gun in hand. In the moonlight, their shadows were elongated, almost overlapping. He didn't know why he had called out to the other man, and looking into An Ping's calm, expressionless eyes, he was momentarily speechless. After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly blurted out, "Doctor An... do you know martial arts?"
An An paused for a moment, then subconsciously shook her head: "Simple martial arts, only good for self-defense, not even a fraction as good as the young master's."
"Shall we have a spar?" Lu Xiao blurted out, realizing as soon as the words left his mouth that they were somewhat abrupt and inexplicable. He simply... didn't want to just watch the other person leave. It was as if only through this kind of confrontational contact could he slightly dispel the strange, unsettling feeling that made him restless.
A hint of wariness and confusion flashed in An'an's eyes, and she tightened her grip on the herbs. "Your Highness is too kind. I am a physician, and my duty is to save lives, not to fight. Moreover, Your Highness is injured and should not resort to violence. I will take my leave." With that, she turned to leave.
"Wait!" Lu Xiao subconsciously reached out to stop him, his fingertips almost touching An Ping's sleeve.
An'an reacted with lightning speed, almost instinctively dodging to the side with nimble and agile movements, keeping the bundle of herbs firmly in his arms without them falling over. He suddenly looked up, his clear eyes instantly filled with wariness and a hint of barely perceptible sharpness: "Young Master?!"
Lu Xiao's hand froze in mid-air. Looking at the sudden, wary glint in An Ping's eyes, like that of a frightened animal, his heart clenched as if gripped tightly. That gaze… too pure, too sharp, completely unlike the reaction of an ordinary military medic. Especially that evasive maneuver just now… though only for a moment, it revealed a disciplined and efficient skill.
He withdrew his hand, somewhat embarrassed, and touched his nose. "...Sorry, I was rude." Looking at Anping's still wary gaze, the confusion and curiosity in his heart grew wildly like weeds. Why...why would a doctor possess such skill and such eyes? Who exactly is he? Is that lingering sense of familiarity just an illusion?
"It's late, Your Highness, please rest early and take care of yourself." An'an said this, then, carrying the herbs, quickly left the training ground, her figure soon disappearing into the shadows under the moonlight.
Lu Xiao stood there, looking in the direction where An Ping had disappeared, then looked down at the hand he had almost touched. His brows furrowed, and his heart was in turmoil like never before.
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