“Ta—take off your pants?”
Lu Zhanxiao stared at Su Wanning, convinced he must have misheard. His face, carved with the sharp edges of wind and frost, froze into an almost dazed expression for the first time in his life. He’d grown up seeing injuries treated only by burly male military medics or elderly experts in hospitals—not by a young girl, not even a bride-to-be, making such a request so casually, without a hint of embarrassment. And the tone… it was as if she were giving orders to a subordinate, leaving no room for argument.
What on earth is wrong with this woman?
His mind was a mess. Even Chen Xiulian, standing nearby, was momentarily speechless. She opened her mouth, intending to smooth things over—something like, “Go back inside” or “I’ll step out first”—but before she could say anything, Su Wanning had already turned and walked back to the west room.
She opened her cloth bag, pretending to rummage through it, but in reality, she had immersed her awareness into her spatial space. From it, she produced a pair of disposable medical gloves and a small porcelain jar containing specially prepared herbal ointment. By the time she came back out, her hands were clad in thin, semi-transparent latex gloves, delicate as cicada wings. Not even the capital’s top hospitals would have seen such a thing, let alone this remote farm.
“What’s that?” Chen Xiulian leaned closer, curiosity piqued.
“Gloves,” Su Wanning answered simply, carefully pulling them over her slender hands in front of both mother and son. The gloves fit perfectly, looking professional, yet exuding a quiet authority that was convincing in itself.
With gloves on, she approached Lu Zhanxiao, tilting her head up to look at him. Her gaze was clear, focused, completely unclouded—like a skilled surgeon about to operate. No concern about gender, no embarrassment, no societal restraint.
“What are you waiting for?” Her voice remained cool and calm. “The longer you delay, the worse the nerve damage gets. Do you want to stay crippled for life?”
Her words struck like a dagger, hitting Lu Zhanxiao at the most vulnerable and prideful point. He trembled violently, his flushed face draining of color until it turned pale. He had been the sharpest blade of the “Lone Wolf” Special Forces, the soldier enemies feared—but was he now supposed to let a little social awkwardness between a boy and girl make him give up his last chance at returning to the field?
He clenched his fists, knuckles whitening, finally taking a deep breath and making a decision. “Mom… you go outside first.”
Chen Xiulian blinked, then quickly nodded. “Alright! I’ll wait in the yard!” She hurried out like she had been granted amnesty, thoughtfully letting the door curtain of the east room fall behind her. Now, only Su Wanning and Lu Zhanxiao remained in the main room. The air felt both thin and burning.
Lu Zhanxiao closed his eyes, submitting as if ready to be cut open, his long lashes casting small shadows that trembled slightly, betraying the unrest beneath his stoic exterior. Su Wanning observed this hard-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside demeanor with a small, quiet amusement, and did not push him further, patiently waiting.
After a long while, Lu Zhanxiao finally mustered the courage, hands trembling as he unfastened the worn leather belt of his pants, slowly lowering the faded army-green trousers to his knees. The left leg revealed itself—scarred and battered, most strikingly a centipede-like old scar running from his thigh to above the knee. The surrounding skin had sunken slightly due to muscle atrophy, but it could not hide the sleek, powerful lines beneath—the grace of a predator still present.
Su Wanning did not flinch at the sight. She had seen far worse wounds before. Squatting down so her eyes aligned with the injury, she extended her gloved hand to examine him professionally. Her fingers were soft and light, yet each press landed precisely on critical nerves and muscle points.
“Do you feel this?”
“…Yes.” Lu Zhanxiao’s voice was hoarse.
“And here? Numb or painful?”
“…Both numb and painful.”
“Take a deep breath, relax, don’t fight it.” Her voice was calm, clear, imbued with a quiet soothing power.
Guided by her expertise, Lu Zhanxiao’s tense body gradually relaxed, yet his senses were unusually alert. He could clearly feel her fingertips gliding lightly over his burning skin through the thin gloves, sending unfamiliar, spine-tingling shivers through him. And he could smell the faint fragrance emanating from her, growing subtly stronger as she approached.
It was a sensation unlike any he had experienced—more tense than bullets grazing his scalp on the battlefield.
Damn… what am I thinking? he scolded himself internally, forcing his focus back onto his leg. Su Wanning, however, remained utterly concentrated, tracing the gruesome scar inch by inch. When her fingers pressed on a slightly darker patch in the middle of the wound, her brow furrowed ever so slightly.
“Mm…” A suppressed grunt of pain escaped Lu Zhanxiao’s throat, his body jolting as fine cold sweat appeared on his temple.
“Here, right?” Su Wanning asked.
“…Yes.” Lu Zhanxiao gritted his teeth, squeezing the word through his clenched jaw. Every midnight, every nightmare, the excruciating, stabbing pain that had coursed through him emanated from this very spot.
Su Wanning didn’t remove her hand. Instead, she applied a bit more pressure, repeatedly probing the area, and suddenly discovered something unexpected—a subtle, hard object beneath the seemingly smooth scar. The skin in that spot was darker than the surrounding area, not ordinary pigmentation, but the abnormal color caused by long-term exposure to toxins.
This injury is suspicious! It’s probably more than just a retained bullet fragment. Su Wanning didn’t say anything, keeping the observation to herself, and continued the examination.
When she tested Lu Zhanxiao’s leg through bending and stretching, her professional, clear gaze completely unsettled this battle-hardened soldier—how could a young girl be even more precise than the military medics? Her eyes were like a scalpel, inspecting not just a leg, but something to be dissected… Wait, she’s too close, and she smells good…
“Alright.” Just as Lu Zhanxiao’s mind began to spiral, Su Wanning’s voice pulled him back to reality. She stood, removed her gloves, and said, “Put your pants back on.”
Lu Zhanxiao felt as if a pardon had been granted. Flustered, he almost ran to pull up his pants. His bronzed face was burning red, even his ears felt scorching. Su Wanning didn’t look at him; she turned to the west room’s water jar, scooped a ladle of cold water, and silently poured it into a porcelain bowl from her bag—this water was infused with her spiritual spring.
She carried the bowl to Lu Zhanxiao. “Roll up your pant leg, and wash the wound with this.”
He hesitated, staring at the clear water. His wound was most sensitive to water, especially this icy well water, which usually made him wince in pain. But looking at Su Wanning’s unwavering gaze, he gritted his teeth and rolled up his pants.
When the cool spring water touched the wound, the expected excruciating pain didn’t come. Instead, an indescribable soothing coolness spread through him, like a gentle life force seeping into the numb flesh. The needle-like, chronic pain that had lodged in his bones for years… it actually eased!
Lu Zhanxiao trembled violently, staring at Su Wanning in disbelief. She had anticipated this outcome, expression calm, and retrieved the small porcelain jar, unscrewing the lid. A rich, unusual herbal fragrance immediately filled the room. She scooped some dark green ointment with her gloved finger and applied it evenly over the scarred wound.
The ointment brought another wave of soothing coolness as it touched the skin. For the first time, Lu Zhanxiao felt warmth and circulation returning to his nearly numb left leg. He actually didn’t feel pain—more effective than any expensive painkillers from the military hospital!
Who is this woman?
For the first time, a wave of emotion stirred in Lu Zhanxiao’s heart. He looked at the slender but formidable girl before him, her eyes still bright in the dim light, the comforting scent she carried… His expression became intensely complicated—her hands were so soft…
All of this was observed by Chen Xiulian through the small gap in the door curtain. Seeing the subtle relaxation—and even the hint of shock—on her son’s face, her heart finally settled. She lowered the curtain without a sound, but her grip on her clothes betrayed her inner turmoil—the mental balance was beginning to tilt toward this mysterious daughter-in-law from Shanghai.
Lu Zhanxiao glanced at the ointment on his leg, then back at Su Wanning. He wanted to say thank you, but the words got stuck in his throat. Su Wanning, seemingly reading his thoughts, calmly said, “Apply this ointment twice a day—once in the morning after waking, and once before bed. Wash the wound with warm water before applying; don’t use cold water anymore.”
“Mm.” Lu Zhanxiao nodded, voice slightly softer than before.
Su Wanning tidied her things and added, “Don’t do heavy work for the next couple of days. Keep your leg relaxed. I’ll come tomorrow to do acupuncture.”
“Alright,” Lu Zhanxiao replied. As she turned to leave, he suddenly asked, “Uh… the gloves, are there more?”
Su Wanning paused, looking back. “What do you mean?”
“N-nothing,” he averted his face, feeling awkward. “I just… they’re pretty clean.”
Su Wanning noticed his flushed ears and understood. She pulled out two more pairs from her bag and handed them to him. “Use these for the next check.”
“Thank you.” Lu Zhanxiao took the gloves, voice low, and for the first time actually said thanks.
Su Wanning smiled faintly, said nothing more, and left the east room. As soon as she stepped into the courtyard, Chen Xiulian rushed up, grabbed her hand, and beamed, “Wanning, did you see his expression just now? Isn’t it better?”
“Yes. The wound is in slightly better condition than I expected. But the embedded bullet still needs careful removal over time,” Su Wanning answered matter-of-factly.
“That’s good, that’s good!” Chen Xiulian grinned from ear to ear. “We’ll have lunch at home, and I’ll cook your favorite dishes!”
Su Wanning didn’t refuse. “Thanks for the trouble, Aunt.”