The title “sweetheart of the unit” was eventually overheard by Yan Dai, by accident.

It happened the evening after night training had ended. The camera crew and production staff had all gone. Only the squad members and the few actors remained on the training ground. Shao Yijiu had everyone singing military songs. Lin Luxiao didn’t intervene — he just sat on a nearby set of steps, watching them belt out the songs with tremendous gusto.

They were singing “The Green Flower of the Military.”

Xiao Jiu raised a hand and pointed at Nan Chu: “Come on, let our three girls sing one — the unit’s sweetheart——”

Perhaps still feeling the effects of that night’s vote, the words slipped out automatically. Realizing immediately that this was inappropriate, he quickly corrected course and switched to a different title: “Nan Chu — you go first.”

Girls are perceptive. In an instant, both understood exactly what had just happened.

Xu Ya, always direct, leapt up and grabbed Xiao Jiu by the ear, like someone who’d just made a discovery: “So you’ve been secretly taking votes behind our backs?! Hm?! Nan Chu is the unit’s sweetheart?! Then what are we?!”

Xiao Jiu was bewildered and had no idea how to smooth things over. The more he tried to explain, the less clear it got: “It’s really not like that… you girls are all angels… all beautiful……”

“Sure, all angels.” Xu Ya wasn’t buying it. She kept needling him: “But Nan Chu is the prettiest?”

Xiao Jiu nodded without thinking.

“……”

Everyone shook their heads helplessly. This kid was really something.

Xiao Jiu snapped back to reality and waved his hands frantically to correct himself: “No no no… that’s not what I meant… listen — you’re beautiful too, Yan Dai is beautiful too, all three of you are beautiful!”

Xu Ya let out a laugh, seeing that he was genuinely flustered. She clapped her hands and sat back down, pretending to brush it off: “Alright, alright, I was just messing with you.”

She would have some feelings about it — that was inevitable. But Xu Ya truly wasn’t bothered. She did think Nan Chu was the most beautiful.

Compared to her, Yan Dai would feel this designation more keenly.

Xiao Jiu breathed a long sigh of relief, then turned toward Yan Dai, about to say something — but she had already risen from where she sat, expression blank, and left without a word. Everyone watched her slender retreating figure in uncomfortable silence.

……

It was actually quite interesting, all things considered. Before the program started, they had all assumed the most difficult person to deal with would be Nan Chu. But compared to how things had actually turned out, Yan Dai was the hardest one to be around. Whenever there were no cameras rolling, she wore a look of couldn’t-be-bothered superiority, as haughty as anything.

Nan Chu, on the other hand — she came across as cold and aloof at first glance. But once you actually spent time with her, she was quite easygoing. She put in the work during training and had never been heard to complain, not once. She wasn’t dramatic about things.

Seeing Yan Dai leave, everyone fell into a subdued silence. A few looked mildly reproachful at Xiao Jiu — the vote had just been a light-hearted private joke among the group, not something to be taken seriously. Different people found different things attractive. But now that it had come out into the open, it was harder to manage, especially with Yan Dai’s temperament.

The mood for singing had evaporated. The male squad members drifted off somewhat sheepishly.

On the way back to the dormitory, Nan Chu walked behind with Liu Xiahan. They exchanged idle chat, Liu Xiahan cracking a joke: “Yan Dai isn’t actually upset, is she?”

He was fairly perceptive himself — he could sense the slight undercurrent between Nan Chu and Yan Dai.

Nan Chu didn’t answer him. Instead she asked: “Got a cigarette?”

Liu Xiahan blinked, then said: “I have some in my room — but since when do you smoke——”

“Would you go get me one?”

Liu Xiahan considered it. “All right. Wait here for me.” And he jogged up the stairs in three strides.

Yan Dai had been needling her for the past few days. Nan Chu wasn’t oblivious — she could feel the little provocations. But in Nan Chu’s view, those petty tactics were all childish, and she hadn’t given them much thought — except for the previous night, when she came back to find the half-box of quit-smoking candy she’d left on her desk was gone. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, but with a bit of thought it was easy enough to figure out who had taken it. As Xu Ya had said, Yan Dai was a “little princess” — she got uncomfortable if everyone’s attention wasn’t centered entirely on her, and would find ways to assert her presence. That comment tonight from Xiao Jiu about the unit’s sweetheart had probably added one more grievance to Nan Chu’s tab.

She was still mulling this over when footsteps sounded on the staircase ahead — a tall figure descending, uniform collar loosened, taking the steps in long strides, two or three at a time. He landed at the bottom and his gaze had just landed on Nan Chu when a voice behind him called out: “Commander Lin.”

Lin Luxiao turned around. Yan Dai came running down the stairs and stopped in front of him.

Lin Luxiao glanced at Nan Chu, then turned back. “What is it?”

Yan Dai kept her head down. “Do you have a moment? I’d like to talk to you.”

Well then!

Nan Chu’s ears practically pricked up.

Lin Luxiao was about to respond when another person came down the stairs — a hand holding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He called out a greeting: “Commander Lin.”

Then he glanced at Yan Dai, made a beeline for Nan Chu, and said: “Come on, I know a spot — you can smoke there.”

Lin Luxiao narrowed his eyes and watched their retreating figures for a moment, then turned back to Yan Dai, hand going into his pocket: “What did you want to say? Go ahead — right here is fine.”

……

Liu Xiahan didn’t know where he’d found this hideout.

Even Nan Chu was struck by how quiet it was. Behind the training base, on a small slope, there was a mound of earth, and beyond it, a tree line. Further out lay the 400-meter obstacle course. Mountains on both sides, the moon hanging at the edge of the sky like a curved hook.

Liu Xiahan leaned against a tree, tore open the cigarette pack, and handed her one. Nan Chu took it, thanked him, tilted her head and lit it with the lighter in one practiced motion, then leaned against the tree trunk and exhaled smoke in lazy puffs, the moonlight catching half her face — cool and unhurried. She looked perfectly at ease.

Liu Xiahan had a cigarette resting at the corner of his mouth and glanced at her sideways: “With this kind of attitude, do your fans even know?”

Nan Chu curved her lips. The expression that crossed her face — not deliberate, not planned, yet somehow arresting: “What fans.”

Liu Xiahan flicked ash off the tip of his cigarette. “A few hundred thousand on Weibo — that’s not nothing.”

Nan Chu smiled: “You haven’t seen? Most of them are there to criticize me.”

“My agent says that when you get hated hard enough, the haters turn into fans. Your personality is solid — fame is just a matter of time.”

Nan Chu still smiled, eyes carrying that ever-present distance. “Then I’ll take that as your blessing.”

One cigarette done.

They walked back. No one was left downstairs. Nan Chu said goodbye to Liu Xiahan and went back to the dormitory. Xu Ya was lying in bed with a face mask on, legs propped up on the mattress. When she saw Nan Chu come in, she said: “You’re back.”

Nan Chu answered softly and swept a glance at Yan Dai’s bed — empty. She asked casually: “Where is she?”

Xu Ya peeled off the face mask, rolled over and sprawled on her stomach: “Ooh, I’ve got some gossip. Want to hear it?”

“What gossip?”

“Yan Dai wants to quit. She’s negotiating with the production crew right now.”

“What’s gotten into her?”

Nan Chu pulled over a stool and sat down.

Xu Ya gave her analysis: “She’s been staying up late every night memorizing lines, you know. And she just found out that her role in the next film has been snatched by some new up-and-coming nobody. On top of that, the training’s brutal — her hands and arms are all banged up. Her emotions were already unstable. And then Xiao Jiu’er’s little comment tonight probably genuinely set her off. Yan Dai’s fine in every other way — she just has a glass heart. Best not to provoke her these next few days. She can’t take any more. Earlier, Commander Lin was looking for you for a while — probably about this.”

Glass heart was an understatement — she might as well have just run face-first into a block of tofu.

Nan Chu said nothing, and quietly removed her shoes.

“Nan Chu — Commander Lin is downstairs waiting for you.”

Shao Yijiu’s voice came from the doorway.

Xu Ya turned a somersault on the bed: “I knew it. Go quick — don’t keep Commander Lin waiting.”

This was the first time since joining the unit that Lin Luxiao had come looking for her on his own initiative — and it was for Yan Dai’s sake.

Her mood was genuinely complicated.

Nan Chu slowly put her shoes back on, straightened her clothes and cap in front of the mirror, then went downstairs.

Lin Luxiao stood by the flower bed, hands in his pockets. Hearing footsteps on the staircase, he turned around. His gaze landed on Nan Chu — the girl really was thin. Military camouflage short-sleeve on top, camouflage trousers below, both wide and loose-fitting, the wind billowing through them, making her look like she might float away.

She walked over and mirrored his posture — hands in pockets — and asked in a casual tone: “Commander Lin, something you needed?”

Little troublemaker.

Lin Luxiao looked down at her: “Is this how the military taught you to greet a superior?”

Nan Chu dropped the playful expression, pulled her hands out of her pockets, and snapped a crisp salute: “Reporting!”

“Follow me.”

A low, quiet command. Lin Luxiao didn’t spare her another look — he turned and walked. Nan Chu followed at his back, dark eyes fixed steadily on him.

Into the administration building.

Nan Chu was already angling for an exit when he saw through her plan — reached back, grabbed the back of her collar, and physically hauled her inside. She struggled: “You can’t just — you’re a superior putting your hands on a subordinate.”

Lin Luxiao looked down at her with a cold smile. “‘Putting hands on’?”

He gave another tug and hoisted her up one flight of stairs.

“Lin Luxiao!”

“Yes.”

“Lin Luxiao!”

“Yes.”

He answered with impressive patience.

The office door had barely opened when footsteps echoed on the staircase, accompanied by a flashlight beam sweeping across the wall. Before Nan Chu could react, her wrist was seized and she was yanked inside — pressed up against the door, a solid wall of person in front of her, the man’s firm chest. Lin Luxiao had one hand propped against the door and the other lifting the edge of the curtain slightly, waiting for the patrol soldier to pass. Only then did he let the curtain fall and look down at the girl in his arms — nearly suffocated against him.

Nan Chu gasped: “You’re sneaking around in your own office?”

Lin Luxiao looked down at her: “Well — there’s you.”

Nan Chu rolled her eyes at him: “Then I’ll leave right now.”

Lin Luxiao pulled her back, pressed her against the door, one hand braced on each side of her, bending to look at her from close range. His dark pupils reflected her face — slightly flushed and warm. His voice was low: “Stop making a scene.”

Nan Chu looked up at him: “Look at us — sneaking around like this. Anyone who didn’t know better would think we were having an affair.”

Lin Luxiao smacked her on the forehead with his palm: “Flattering yourself——”

“……”

In the darkness, the window on the opposite wall stood open — wind spilling through. Moonlight was faint. Nan Chu tilted her head up at him for a moment, then reached out and touched his hairline at his forehead. “Hey — Commander, you have a widow’s peak.”

The girl’s voice was bright with discovery.

Lin Luxiao had barely raised an eyebrow when he heard her next words.

Nan Chu pressed at his widow’s peak with her fingertips and sighed: “I’ve heard that men with widow’s peaks all have premature ejaculation.”

His brow snapped together: “Nonsense.”

Lin Luxiao swatted her hand away — miscalculated the force. A red mark from three fingers was left on her pale, soft hand.

“That’s what the books say. I’ve never tried it. How would I know?”

Lin Luxiao gave a cold snort: “Oh? Poor you — feeling aggrieved? Want to try?”

“I have no particular desire to.”

Nan Chu looked down.

Lin Luxiao crossed his arms and looked at her with complete openness: “I have a friend who’s a psychology professor.”

Nan Chu looked at him with suspicion — why the sudden change of subject?

Lin Luxiao curved his lips slightly: “He says that when a person is lying, their eyes drift to the lower left corner. Just now — you were lying.”