After finishing her cup of tea, Feng Qinghe relaxed her posture, leaning back slightly in her chair.
Her fingertips lightly touched the smooth edge of the armrest, her demeanor lacking some of the commander’s majesty but instead exuding a leisurely and indifferent air.
She looked at the two completely different men before her: one gentle and refined yet unfathomable, the other cold and sharp yet unwaveringly loyal.
She pondered how to better bind them to her chessboard.
“Actually,” she suddenly spoke, her voice unusually clear and abrupt in the deepening twilight, “I’ve spent years on military campaigns, enduring wind and rain, which has left me with a host of ailments.
My health… is really not good.” She sighed softly, a sigh as light as a fleeting wisp of smoke, but her clear gaze fell upon Gu Anqi.
“Since Mr.
Gu is so skilled in traditional Chinese medicine, I wonder if, in the future… you could… treat me personally?” Before Gu Anqi could respond, she turned to Achen, a bitter smile on her face mixed with helplessness and sincerity, her tone carrying just the right amount of earnestness: “And Brother Achen, as you can see, my Thirteen Alliance looks powerful, but it’s only because my brothers are supporting us.
The border is dangerous, and it’s hard to guard against hidden arrows.
Although I have some personal guards, the real experts…
could you please leave with me for the time being and take care of them?
If something unexpected happens, I’ll have someone to rely on.” Upon hearing this, the already tense atmosphere in the study seemed to freeze and stagnate.
The last rays of sunlight sank behind the western mountains, plunging the room into darkness.
Only the teacups before the three retained a faint, warm glow.
Feng Qinghe’s posture was extremely humble, her words placing her in the position of a vulnerable person needing care and protection—a stark contrast to her usual decisive and ruthless nature.
However, these two seemingly casual, almost submissive sentences struck Gu Anqi and Achen like two silent thunderclaps.
This was no simple request for medical treatment and shelter; it was clearly an attempt to bring the two of them under her complete control in the most undeniable and intimate way, binding them to her chariot.
Treating her specifically means that Gu Anqi will be frequently by her side, knowing her most private physical condition, and will also lose his relatively independent medical space, with his every move being directly monitored.
Staying by her side to take care of her means that Achen will become her shadow bodyguard, his martial arts will be directly used, his loyalty will be put to the most direct test, and his freedom will be restricted to a small area.
What appears to be a request is actually an order; what appears to be trust is actually the tightest control.
What’s more, she uses excuses like “being weak and needing medical treatment” and “being in a situation that requires protection” to make it difficult to refuse outright.
Refusing a “small request” from a superior who “frankly admits their own weaknesses” seems inhumane, especially after they have just accepted her protection and tacitly agreed to be “family.” Gu Anqi’s fingers, holding the cup, paused slightly before returning to normal.
He looked up at Feng Qinghe, his gaze gentle yet carrying the prudence of a physician: “Commander Feng is too kind.
Commanding the thirteen alliances, your power resounds across the border.
Commander Feng’s physique and will are far beyond that of ordinary people.
However, since Commander Feng has given the order, Anqi will do his best.
Regularly checking pulses and carefully adjusting treatments is a physician’s duty.” He readily agreed but cleverly limited the scope of “specialized treatment” to the doctor-patient relationship of “regularly checking pulses and carefully adjusting treatments,” without promising to be available at any time or to devote himself entirely to the task.
This was his sense of propriety.
Ah Chen’s reaction was even more direct.
His icy gaze swept across Feng Qinghe’s face like a blade, trying to find even the slightest hint of hypocrisy or probing beneath her slightly weary and helpless smile.
To ask him, the unruly and powerful leader of the Demonic Sect, to be her “personal bodyguard” was less a request and more a provocative and absurd test.
His voice was as hard as the frozen earth of the northern frontier: “Protect you?” He repeated those four words, his tone laced with undisguised sarcasm.
“Are your soldiers just for show?” Faced with this rude question, Feng Qinghe was not annoyed at all.
Instead, she sighed, her smile revealing a genuine weariness.
She raised her hand to rub her temples: “Soldiers are the courage of generals, but generals are also the soul of soldiers.
Sometimes, it’s easy to dodge a spear in the open but hard to guard against an arrow in the dark.
Brother Achen, I don’t want you to be a servant who brings tea and water.
I hope…
when a real ‘hidden arrow’ comes, there will be someone with absolute strength and reaction to shield me from that fatal blow.
This task is not easy, and it might even be…
deadly.” Her words were half true and half false.
It was true that being in a high position, especially as a woman ruling the border, meant there were bound to be many hidden dangers.
What was false was that, given her martial arts skills and intellect, it was still unknown whether she truly needed someone like Ah Chen to “shield” her.
However, these words gave Ah Chen a reason that he couldn’t easily refuse—not a trivial matter of guarding, but a “last line of defense” against a real crisis.
This was about recognition of strength and also about a potential, dangerous resonance between the strong.
A Chen fell silent, no longer refuting but staring intently at Feng Qinghe with his unfathomable eyes, as if trying to see right through her.
After a long while, he finally let out a cold, ambiguous snort, which could be considered an admission, but it was utterly devoid of any respect.
Seeing this, Feng Qinghe’s smile relaxed a bit, as if a major concern had been resolved.
She personally poured hot tea for the two of them: “In that case, I’ll trouble you both.
Mr.
Gu will be my physician from now on, and Brother Achen…” She paused, then found a more palatable way to put it, “…will be my special bodyguard, with the highest level of treatment and expenses.
I also hope that we can truly become people I can entrust my life to…our own people.” “Entrusted with life and death,” “one of our own”—these words carried a heavy weight when spoken by her.
Gu Anqi nodded with a smile, her demeanor still composed.
Achen, on the other hand, picked up her teacup and drank it all in one gulp, her movements rough, as if she were drinking alcohol, gulping down the tea as if it were strong liquor, but her gaze never left Feng Qinghe.
Feng Qinghe ignored Gu Anqi’s claim of regular pulse checks and directly referred to him as her physician.
As for whether this physician would stay in the Marshal’s Mansion or go with her in the future, it was all up to Feng Qinghe to decide.
The new relationship was established in a way that seemed to be one of master and servant but was actually full of tension and uncertainty.
Feng Qinghe successfully incorporated these two unstable pieces into the chessboard closest to her in the most natural way.
Her words were crisp and concise, without any room for discussion, as if she had just issued an ordinary military order.
After speaking, she returned to her desk, her gaze falling back on the map on the table, indicating that the two of them could step back and prepare.
Gu Anqi and Achen exchanged a glance, both seeing solemnity in each other’s eyes.
This was not a simple relocation to the camp but meant that they would be placed within Feng Qinghe’s core power and vision, with almost no room for avoidance.
Leaving Feng Qinghe’s study, Gu Anqi walked slowly, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing together as he muttered to himself, a faint, bitter smile spreading across his face.
“Feng Qinghe’s blood and energy are abundant; her ‘fatigue’ is more like the result of days of hard work, far removed from ‘qi deficiency.'” This was clearly an excuse, a legitimate reason to keep them by his side.
The treatment was a pretense; the real purpose was to keep them close, or rather…
to “make the most of them.” He glanced at Achen beside him, whose aura was cold and hard, and sighed inwardly: This Commander Feng, when it comes to using people, is truly meticulous and leaves no room for refusal.
Ah Chen’s face was cold and stern, his aura even chiller than usual.
He loathed this feeling of being arranged for and “needed,” especially under the guise of “guards.” If they remained in the manor, they still had some freedom, but entering the military tent meant they would be completely under her control.
A flash of malice crossed his sharp eyes; he wanted to see what this woman was up to.