As Tan had said, the Thunder and Lightning squads, as they called themselves were truly troublesome.
Shan and Heng often had competitions where they beat each other black and blue. Often they'd turn it into a group game, and drag their squads into it.
Lu Yan once had to chase around Shan for half-a-day before he finally let her clean and change the bandages on a sword wound.
At the same time, Heng ignored the pulled muscle in his leg, and all her admonitions to take two days' leave.
She had to physically push him into bed, and keep Luizhu on guard to prevent him from escaping when she wasn't looking.
Lu Yan had just pulled aside a curtain, ready to massage a cream to promote healing to Heng's leg.
He had disappeared.
Lu Yan turned to Luizhu.
Luizhu seemed stunned, stammering, "He was just here-"
The other injured soldiers seemed to think it was funny.
She heard the sound of laughter. But when she turned around, they were all looking at her with serious expressions.
The physicians scattered in the hall all had expressions of schadenfreude. Lu Yan looked at their knowing smirks. Not one of them had alerted her or Luizhu to Heng's escape.
Then she looked at the unfinished scroll that lay open and abandoned on the empty bed.
A great wave of emotion crashed over her.
She had to do a good job! Master wanted her to learn how to handle all this. How could she make progress if all these people kept blocking her?
Lu Yan was furious.
In a fit of high emotion, she took Luizhu and went to find Han.
Like the other four hundred or so platoon leaders, he had an office in one of the the large buildings in the inner circle.
Luizhu had learnt that he could be found there for a few hours after lunch every day, handling the administrative work that came with leading twenty-five men and coordinating with other platoons.
Lu Yan walked over, crossing the streets quickly. Luizhu hurried to keep up with her.
She found his room, and knocked.
From inside, she heard Han's voice calling out, "Come in."
Lu Yan entered.
He looked slightly surprised to see her.
The room was tiny. A big table piled with scrolls was placed in the middle. Beyond the table, there wasn't enough space for two people to walk side-by-side.
He was seated on one side, writing something on a long scroll.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
Lu Yan sat across from him.
Luizhu was waiting outside. The door was closed. The room was silent. The space felt cramped.
His voice was gentle, completely different from the intensity she'd seen when Shan had startled him from sleep in the treatment hall.
Lu Yan bowed, "Platoon leader Han, I'm sorry to disturb you. It's just-"
Lu Yan paused, feeling slightly uncertain.
She'd heard a lot about Han from Shan, to the point where she felt she knew him.
By now, sitting across from him, facing his dark eyes, she realized she didn't know him at all.
She felt flustered. Why had she come? Her anger had cooled by now, and there were other ways to handle Shan and Heng.
She'd gotten used to the physicians' disregard. They usually ignored her, and that suited her just fine. The soldiers laughed at everything everyday. It was not a big deal.
Seeing her hesitate, he said directly, "Shan and Heng are giving you trouble."
It wasn't a question.
Lu Yan realized she was currently snitching. Just like her cousin sister who always told aunt every little thing Lu Yan did.
Lu Yan hated this cousin sister.
She looked up at him, suddenly anxious, saying in a confused rush, "Not trouble exactly. Of course, it's my duty to look after them. It's no trouble. It's- it's-"
She trailed off, her head feeling slow and full of fuzz.
What if Shan didn't like her anymore after this? Would he stop giving her little treats?
But why was he making things so difficult for her? He knew she wanted to do good work and please master.
Suddenly, mortifyingly, Lu Yan's eyes filled with tears.
She bowed her head to hide her face, desperately trying to swallow and stop the tears from flowing over.
Her throat felt stuck, thick and blocked. Her chest hurt, filled to the brim, fit to burst. Tilting her face down made the tears more likely to fall.
She felt humiliated and hurt.
Why, why had she come here?
She didn't dare breathe for fear that she would start sobbing.
Seeing her sudden silence, Han asked again, "You can tell me if they're bothering you."
His voice was gentle.
Lu Yan suddenly gasped involuntarily, her lungs screaming for air. Fat tears streamed down her cheeks, and splattered onto the table.
Lu Yan swiped them away with her sleeve.
But, of course, he'd heard her sob, and seen her tears fall.
Han- whose mind had been filled with reports, training schedules, and exercises for his squads- suddenly had all his attention drawn to the person in front of him.
The little boy's chin was almost touching his chest. His body shook with suppressed sobs, crying without daring to make a sound. His neck was completely exposed.
Han tried to remember the last time he had seen anyone show this level of vulnerability before him.
It was probably when Heng was still a toddler who followed him everywhere, and cried every time Han had to go train.
Han closed his eyes briefly, trying to push down the rush of memories of Heng's tears and his mother's gentle smiles.
He looked closely at the boy across from him, uncertain about what had brought this storm of emotion out before him.
Popular gossip in the camp generally agreed that young master Ji's disciple was talented and hard-working. He was always polite, if a little distant. Despite the junior physicians in the treatment hall giving him a hard time, he had never abused his status as young master Ji's disciple.
His family background was unknown, but people had noticed that his grooming, manners, temperament and appearance pointed towards him being a child from some noble family. But no one knew which family.
It was a little riddle.
Any noble family would have publicized having a disciple taken in by Ji Jing. But no one had come forward. Why?