Chapter 81 You Are Also Important

Chapter 81: You Matter Too

Lu Feng's tone was indifferent as he applied cold compresses several times in succession. The white haze before Jiang Wanrou's eyes gradually faded until everything turned completely dark. She slowly opened her eyes.

"Ah, it doesn’t hurt anymore."

Lu Feng's tense body relaxed slightly. He warned, "Wild trails are dangerous. Do not let your guard down."

Jiang Wanrou had never seen such a vast sky before. She smiled and said, "I was just momentarily captivated. I’ll be more careful next time."

Lu Feng pressed his thin lips together, slightly displeased with Jiang Wanrou's carefree attitude.

Outside was nothing like home. Lu Feng himself was alert and observant, and his subordinates were just as watchful. But Jiang Wanrou was not his subordinate—she was his wife.

After a moment of silence, Lu Feng said, "I’ll take you to the general’s residence. Stay there quietly and don’t wander around."

As a border garrison general, Ling Xiao had settled his wife and family in a fortified town thirty li away from the military camp—a day’s ride away. During stable military conditions, Ling Xiao mostly stayed at the general’s residence in the fortified town.

Jiang Wanrou asked in surprise, "Aren’t we staying together?"

Faced with an unfamiliar world and with only Jintao by her side, Jiang Wanrou felt like a baby bird, longing only to stay close to Lu Feng.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and said affectionately, "Husband, I don’t wanna leave you."

Seeing her cling to him like a baby bird to its nest, Lu Feng’s heart softened further. He soothingly stroked her back and said gently, "Rou'er, listen to me."

He had never intended to bring Jiang Wanrou to the military camp. The fortified town was heavily guarded, and while its provisions couldn’t compare to those in the capital, at least there was winter charcoal and hot meals, sparing her from hunger and cold. The general’s wife was Lu Qingling, who had once been Jiang Wanrou’s "elder sister-in-law." Lu Feng didn’t have to worry about her being mistreated.

This was Lu Feng’s idea of the best compromise. After some thought, Jiang Wanrou also found it reasonable. Fortunately, she had always been kind and never neglected her far-married sister-in-law during holidays. After Lu Feng regained his status, she even wrote Lu Qingling a letter, expressing that despite the unpredictability of life, their bond remained unchanged—she would always regard Lu Qingling as a sister.

Part truth, part politeness—in any case, Jiang Wanrou had maintained the relationship well. Since her marriage, Lu Qingling was no longer as willful and spoiled as before. The general’s residence wasn’t far from the camp, and during stable military conditions, Lu Feng could visit her.

Lu Feng smiled but didn’t respond to Jiang Wanrou’s almost "naive" question. Did she think war was like a scheduled meeting, where both sides agreed on a time to fight? In reality, the horn could sound in the dead of night, and once battle began, no one knew when it would end.

He said, "I’ll come for you as soon as possible."

Today, Lu Feng was unusually gentle. In the cramped carriage, the two pressed close together. Though there was no charcoal brazier, nestled in Lu Feng’s warm and broad embrace—his human furnace—Jiang Wanrou thought it wasn’t so bad after all.

Soon, however, she realized she was wrong—utterly wrong.

Accommodation was manageable. Though the tent was thin, the firewood kept it warm, and with Lu Feng as her personal heater at night, Jiang Wanrou didn’t suffer from the cold. She had once prided herself on enduring hardship, but she had also forgotten—that was many years ago.

Her days of luxury had lasted too long. Like a hothouse peony, no matter how resilient its roots, sudden exposure to the harsh elements inevitably led to discomfort.

The food was monotonous—mostly dried meat, steamed buns, pickled vegetables, and other preserved rations—a far cry from the feasts of eight courses served at the manor, not to mention the tea, fruits, and pastries afterward. Jiang Wanrou didn’t complain, and when Lu Feng noticed, he hunted wild boars and birds for her. The meat he roasted was perfectly charred and savory, and Jiang Wanrou gazed at him with admiration, thinking he was even better than the manor’s chefs!

While Lu Feng occasionally treated her to "feasts," other aspects were less comfortable. Jiang Wanrou had once mocked Lu Feng for his aristocratic habits, but she was no different. In the manor, she bathed daily, but on the road, she could only enjoy a proper hot bath when passing through villages or towns—sometimes every three days, sometimes five. She felt like she was going stale.

What was even more exhausting was the rough journey. Lu Feng tried his best to accommodate her, but military urgency brooked no delay. He didn’t slow their pace, and the farther north they went, the more rugged the mountain paths became. The grueling travel made Jiang Wanrou vomit several times. After twenty days, her face had turned pale, and her once-soft cheeks had thinned.

Lu Feng wasn’t unsympathetic. Once, in the wilderness, Jiang Wanrou lay listlessly across his lap and said she wanted to bathe. With about ten days left on their journey, Lu Feng hesitated—then, breaking his usual routine, he called for a halt. He had someone fetch cold water from the river, built a quick stone stove with stones, and boiled a pot of water for her to wash with.

Her tired face brightened instantly. She threw her arms around Lu Feng’s neck, gave him a smacking kiss, and exclaimed excitedly, "Husband, you’re amazing!"

In the manor, Lu Feng’s daily needs had been entirely her responsibility—he’d been like a lord, needing help even to dress or remove his boots. But in the wild, Jiang Wanrou discovered that Lu Feng was capable in every way.

He could hunt and roast game, never returning empty-handed even in the cold of winter. He could distinguish edible wild fruits from poisonous ones, accurately locate water sources, roughly predict the weather, and even personally set up their tent—better built than the others.

To Lu Feng, these were trivial matters, but to Jiang Wanrou, they were fascinating, as if she were rediscovering him. Praising him, Jiang Wanrou beamed, but Lu Feng merely lifted his eyelids and said, "Just a quick rinse. No more than fifteen minutes."

Outside, he always spoke in this commanding tone. Jiang Wanrou was used to it—after all, Lu Feng would never punish her like he did his subordinates, at most scolding her a few times. When she finally got to wash up, she scrubbed meticulously, taking her time. It wasn’t until Lu Feng, with a darkened face, wrapped her up that she started putting on a sweet, pleading smile, but she failed to appease him. That night, she fell ill.

Jiang Wanrou had always been in good health, often practicing dance in the mansion to strengthen her body, much hardier than most pampered noblewomen. Despite enduring the long and arduous journey, this time, though the tent was warmed by a blazing fire, the flimsy tent couldn’t keep out the biting cold. She had spent too long washing and caught a chill.

Her fever flushed her cheeks crimson. Fortunately, Jiang Wanrou was meticulous—she had packed common medicinal herbs in Lu Feng’s luggage. After she drank the medicine, she still didn’t wake. Lu Feng’s face darkened as he wrapped her in his cloak, mounted his horse, and ordered in a low voice, "We’ll rest in the nearest town for two days."

The closest town was called "Luoyun Town."

In a quiet courtyard, the doctor shrank under his icy stare as he took the pulse of the woman on the bed. After a long while, he withdrew his hand shakily and said, "Just a common cold. Her pulse is strong—it’s nothing serious."

*

"Then why hasn’t she woken up yet?"

Lu Feng stared at Jiang Wanrou on the bed, her cheeks flushed red, her thick lashes fluttering slightly. It pained him to see her like this.

She had never suffered like this before. In Lu Feng’s heart, this was his own failure.

The doctor replied, "No need for concern, sir. The lady is likely just exhausted. Let her rest and sweat out the fever, and she’ll recover."

Lu Feng recalled the hardships of their journey and fell silent. He walked to Jiang Wanrou’s side, his rough fingertips brushing her cheek. "How long should she rest?"

"The longer, the better."

This lady was stunningly beautiful, her skin as white as snow. When the doctor first saw her, he thought she looked like a goddess. Even an old man like him couldn’t bear to see such a beauty suffer, so he deliberately extended the suggested recovery time.

"Wait until she’s fully well before traveling again."

Lu Feng waved his hand, dismissing the doctor. As night fell, under the dim glow of candlelight, Jiang Wanrou slowly opened her bleary eyes.

"Awake?"

Lu Feng held her hand tightly. The moment she stirred, he noticed. Her long lashes fluttered as she blinked several times before finally regaining clarity. Only then did she realize—she wasn’t in the palace anymore.

No wonder. The room was tidy but plain, its furnishings not even as luxurious as those of the head maids back home.

She’d always been pampered, and now, after such suffering, Lu Feng expected her to cry or complain. He was even prepared to coax her. Yet, the first words Jiang Wanrou uttered upon waking were, "Husband… did I delay our journey?"

Her eyes filled with guilt. During their journey north from the capital, they had passed through bustling cities. At first, everything felt novel—the taverns and teahouses lining the official roads, the merchants coming and going, the pack mules snorting, a lively, carefree energy unlike the capital’s.

But the farther north they traveled, the more they encountered desolate villages and remote towns. Ramshackle huts leaned unevenly, their wooden gates half-open. Skinny old women hunched in doorways, feeding their emaciated grandchildren meager bowls of coarse rice and wild vegetable porridge. Barren fields stretched endlessly. Charcoal sellers, faces smeared black, could barely sell a handful of charcoal. Starving beggars stood listlessly, and children, barely clothed, shivered with frostbitten faces.

At first, Jiang Wanrou couldn’t bear it and asked Jintao to buy them some steamed buns. But Lu Feng said, "It’s pointless."

She could help one, ten, even a hundred—but not all the suffering people in the world. The wind here was harsh and biting. Lu Feng told her this was nothing—the true suffering was at the frontier, where people not only struggled to survive but also faced ruthless invaders who slaughtered without mercy.

Only after witnessing it firsthand did Jiang Wanrou realize the weight on Lu Feng’s shoulders. When his subordinates reported military updates, she caught snippets—talk of troop movements and tactics she couldn’t follow, but she knew many had died.

Struggling to sit up, she leaned weakly into Lu Feng’s strong embrace. "Husband… the mission comes first."

Lu Feng caressed her cheek, his deep gaze solemn.

"You come first too."

Since he had brought her along, how could he abandon her?

Lu Feng had never spoken sweet nothings to her. These words, like a stone rippling a thousand waves, made her already feverish eyes redden further. Stumbling over her words, she asked, "Then… the war…?"

"Ling Xiao’s got it."

Lu Feng said gravely, "Rest well and don’t overthink."

He fed Jiang Wanrou a bowl of medicine. Worn out from lack of sleep these past days, her eyelids grew heavy, and soon she fell into a deep sleep again.

Lu Feng watched her for a long while before rising and stepping outside. He walked to the simple hall in the front courtyard, where two figures waited under the dim candlelight—one was the county magistrate, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, and the other was Lu Feng's old acquaintance, Minister Pei Zhang.

As he entered, the two immediately stood and bowed. Lu Feng marched to the head seat, ignoring the magistrate's fawning. Turning to Pei Zhang, he asked, "Is it done?"

Pei Zhang nodded. "I've fulfilled my duty."