I step inside.
And stop.
Men.
Everywhere.
Naked.
The sight hits me harder than any blade. Bodies move through rising steam, water running down bare skin without restraint, without shame, without anything to hide.
It is raw, of male genitals, before I can stop myself. It is raw, unguarded, and completely exposed in a way I have never seen before.
My steps lock in place.
For a brief second, my mind goes blank, then floods all at once with the sharp, overwhelming awareness that I should not be here, that I do not belong in a place like this, that every second I stand here is a mistake waiting to happen.
I cannot even let it show.
My face must remain still. My eyes must not betray anything. Even the smallest reaction could turn every gaze toward me, and that is something I cannot afford.
"Oi. What are you staring at?"
The voice cuts through the noise, rough and amused.
I realize too late where my gaze has fallen.
My body reacts before my thoughts catch up. I snap my eyes up, forcing a careless grin onto my face as if nothing is wrong, as if this is normal, as if I have seen this a hundred times before.
"Nothing," I say lightly, a short laugh following, too quick but I cannot stop it. "You are… quite impressive."
The man snorts, clearly pleased with himself. "Of course I am."
I turn away immediately.
My eyes land on something else, then something else again, and it does not help. Every direction is the same. Too much. Too exposed. Too dangerous.
A sharp breath escapes me before I can stop it, and I force it down just as quickly.
This is impossible.
I step back. Then another step. Then I turn completely and walk out before anyone can say another word.
The cooler air outside hits my face, but it does nothing to ease the tension gripping my body.
My pace does not slow as I make my way back to the tent, every step tight, controlled, forcing myself not to run.
When I push the tent open, Chen Hu looks up immediately.
"You are back already?" His brows lift slightly. "Did you not bathe?"
I exhale slowly and drop onto my bed, my body finally giving in to the strain of the day. "It is crowded," I say, my voice flat. "Full of naked men."
The word leaves my mouth before I can stop it.
Men.
A beat of silence follows.
Then something shifts.
I realize it a second too late.
My head lifts slowly.
All of them are looking at me.
Chen Hu. Luo Ping. Wei Shan.
And him.
The quiet one.
His gaze is the worst. Not because it is loud or mocking, but because it is not. It lingers, steady and unreadable, as if weighing every word I just said.
"You say that," he speaks at last, his tone low, calm, "as if you are not one."
The air tightens.
I let out a short laugh, forcing it to sound natural, easy, like nothing matters. "I mean, I am just not used to bathing like that. Out in the open." I wave a hand vaguely. "It is different."
Luo Ping bursts out laughing before the tension can settle too deeply. "You are strange," he says, stepping closer and hitting my shoulder lightly.
Pain shoots through my arm.
I flinch despite myself, a sharp breath escaping before I can hide it.
"You are strong," I say quickly, forcing another laugh, though it comes out tighter this time. "That actually hurts."
He freezes for a second, then grins wider. "Of course it does."
I meet his gaze, then add, "You are quite big."
The words leave my mouth before I can think them through.
The tent stills.
Luo Ping blinks. Then his grin falters, just slightly, confusion flickering across his face. "...Thank you?"
Heat crawls up my neck.
I should stop talking.
Instead, I make it worse. "A compliment like that from another man, it is… unusual."
Silence drops hard.
My mouth closes immediately.
Too much.
I said too much.
I can feel it now, the shift in the air, the way attention sharpens, the way eyes linger just a little longer than before.
And him.
He is still watching me.
Not laughing. Not speaking. Just watching.
Something cold slips down my spine.
I force a small, awkward grin in his direction, something careless, something meaningless.
His gaze does not soften.
"You look quiet," he says after a moment, his voice even. "But your face…" His eyes move slightly, taking in every detail. "It is too soft."
Luo Ping lets out another laugh, quick and careless. "He does look like a girl, does he not?"
Everything inside me stops.
For a single second, the world narrows to that sentence alone.
My breath catches. My chest tightens. My body goes still in a way that feels too close to being exposed.
Then Luo Ping waves it off with a grin. "Relax, I am joking."
The sound of his laughter fills the space again, easy and light, as if nothing dangerous had just passed between us.
I force a smile.
It feels wrong on my face.
The air does not settle. Not completely.
Something has shifted.
And I feel it.
Clear. Sharp. Unavoidable.
I lower my gaze slightly, letting silence take me instead of words.
There is no place here for mistakes.
Not even small ones.
Because small ones are enough to get me killed.
Night falls without mercy.
Darkness spreads across the camp, swallowing the noise slowly but never completely.
Voices fade into murmurs, then into silence broken only by the crackle of distant fires and the occasional clatter of armor.
Inside the tent, the air grows thick, heavy with sweat, blood, and the scent of men who have lived too long without comfort.
I lie still on the narrow bed, staring into the dark.
Sleep does not come.
My skin feels wrong. Sticky. Unclean. The dried blood on my arm has stiffened the cloth, and the sweat clings to me in a way that makes my chest tighten with irritation. I have bathed every day of my life. This… this feels unbearable.
A loud, uneven sound cuts through the silence.
I turn my head slightly.
Chen Hu.
He snores like a beast, loud and rough, each breath dragging through his throat as if the world itself is being pulled with it. It fills the tent, impossible to ignore, making sleep even more distant than before.
I close my eyes briefly.
It does not help.
Slowly, I open them again and stare into the darkness above me.
Father.
Mother.
A quiet breath slips from my lips, too soft for anyone to hear. I hope you are safe.
The thought lingers, heavier than anything else I carry. I hope we will meet again.
Something tightens in my chest.
Before I can stop it, warmth gathers at the corners of my eyes, slipping down silently into my hair. I do not move to wipe it away. There is no point. No one is watching.
After a long moment, I sit up.
The tent is still.
Chen Hu sprawls across his bed, unmoving except for the loud rhythm of his snoring. Luo Ping has one arm thrown over his face, breathing steady and careless. Wei Shan curls slightly into himself, quieter even in sleep.
And him.
The quiet one.
He lies on his back, one arm resting loosely at his side, his face half-shadowed in the dim light.
Even like this, there is something sharp about him, something controlled, as if he does not truly relax even when unconscious.
His features are striking, clean, too composed for someone in a place like this.
Dangerous.
Not loud. Not obvious.
But dangerous.
I look away.
Carefully, I stand and move toward the entrance, pushing the curtain aside just enough to slip through.
Outside, the night air is cooler, but not empty.
Guards stand at intervals, their figures barely moving, their swords visible even in the dark. Their presence presses in from all sides, a reminder that nothing here goes unseen for long.
I keep my steps light, controlled.
The bathing area comes into view again, but the sounds tell me everything I need to know before I even reach it. Water. Voices. Laughter.
Still crowded.
I exhale quietly and turn away.
Further out, past the edge of the camp, the land shifts. The ground grows uneven, the noise fades, and the darkness deepens.
A forest.
I walk toward it.
Each step takes me further from the watchful eyes, further from the suffocating weight of the camp. The trees close in slowly, their shadows stretching across the ground, swallowing the last traces of light.
Then I hear it.
Water.
Soft at first, then clearer as I move forward.
I quicken my pace.
Branches brush against my clothes as I push deeper, the sound growing louder until the trees finally part.
And I stop.
Moonlight spills across the clearing.
A pond lies before me, still and wide, its surface reflecting the pale glow of the sky. The water moves gently, disturbed only by one presence.
A man.
He is sitting in the pond, water reaching just below his waist, his back turned slightly, his form outlined in silver light. His long dark hair falls loose, strands clinging to his skin while others shift with the breeze, drifting across the surface of the water like ink.
The light catches his profile when he turns just enough.
Sharp jaw. Straight nose. Features carved with a precision that feels almost unreal. His expression is calm, unreadable, as if the world around him does not exist.
The white fabric clings to him, soaked and heavy, outlining the strength beneath it. Broad shoulders, defined arms resting lightly at his sides, the quiet stillness of someone who does not need to prove anything to be dangerous.
For a moment, I do not move.
There is something wrong about this.
Not the place. Not the time.
Him.
No one in the camp carries themselves like this. No one looks like they belong to something beyond the chaos and filth of war.
My heartbeat picks up, slow but heavy, echoing louder than it should in the silence.
I stay behind the tree, watching.
Then—
Swish.
A sharp sound cuts through the air.
Thud.
A blade buries itself into the tree beside my head.
Close.
Too close.
My breath stops.
…Fuck.