PUAA Chapter 8

“The wife of the general explicitly told me before that she wouldn’t want you to undergo a craniotomy because of the significant risk it poses to your cognitive functions,” the senior military doctor voiced his concerns, though somewhat reluctantly.

The term “wife of the general” sounded bizarre to the general, who paused for a second before realizing he was referring to the young officer. Recalling the image of the young officer nibbling on greens like a little hamster, the general smiled slightly and asked the doctor, “How long would a slow recovery take?”

“It’s hard to say; a full recovery of memory could take at least a year or two.”

“I can’t wait that long; I’m entrusting everything to you.” The general insisted, his demeanor forceful even without memories, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He couldn’t stand being watched by the young officer every day, those looks of subtle, deep-seated sorrow and sadness unnerving him profoundly.

By the time the young officer’s shift ended in the evening, the general was no longer in his original hospital room.

“You’re off tomorrow; the general wants you to go home and get some proper rest. You’ve been running yourself ragged these days, and the general is concerned. He’s moved to another room, well attended, and he should be able to go home after a few more days of observation,” the old doctor persuaded the young officer to return home, then tiredly rubbed his eyes and went to sleep in the duty room.

Performing a brain surgery was no trivial matter; it was exhausting, but thankfully everything went smoothly. He still had to stay another night to monitor for any emergencies.

In the ICU, the general awoke from anesthesia, connected to various tubes, under intensive care.

Pain was blocked by chemicals, and he hallucinated, seeing the omega with a crisp military bearing and a hint of youthful defiance.

“Hello, examiner. My name is Sheng Lan, and my dream is to become a general.”

“Good grades, good physical condition, but a pity you’re an omega.”

“There will be a first omega general.”

“You? What makes you think you can? Because of Commander Sheng?”

“Because of myself.”

It was he who had insisted on recruiting this omega into the Capital’s military.

“You’re pretty, and I’m not heartless.”

“All this talk, beat me first then we’ll talk. A person without strength doesn’t deserve to be an officer.”

“Ah, don’t make me laugh, you, an omega with those skinny arms and legs, don’t get too ambitious, I’m afraid I’ll break your arm.”

“Your lower body strength is insufficient, and your combat technique is poor, you only know brute force. Also, I hate alphas who judge by appearance the most!”

It was he who watched the commotion, punishing a subordinate who started trouble and lost the fight, while secretly admiring the omega’s exposed waist during the fight, spicy enough to haunt his dreams at night.

It was he who fancied the person but was also afraid of getting scratched.

It was he who carried the fainting omega, stiff with tension yet reluctant to let go.

It was he who found the omega after tirelessly searching without sleep, unable to control himself and nearly crying while holding him.

“What are you doing on leave when you’ve just recovered?”

“Please forgive me, sir. My brother is missing, and although my father has sent people to assist, I don’t trust him; I want to take leave to search for my brother.”

“You’re not familiar with the border terrain or the specific mission details. If you trust me, I’ll go for you.”

It was he who noticed the young officer was distraught and offered to help find the person.

“Commander, I heard you’re looking to marry Sheng Lan off, finding suitable marriage partners. Would you consider me too?”

“I promise to treat him well, to make him happy.”

It was he who had a crush on the young officer, it was he who actively sought to marry him.

He promised to make the young officer happy, yet he broke his promise by disappearing and losing his memory, troubling his young officer deeply.

The one who timidly didn’t touch the chopsticks, only nibbling on greens, was the young officer.

The one who changed his dressings, looking at him with full concern, was the young officer.

The one who took care of his meals and training, secretly heating water for him to wash his hair when there was no hot water left, was the young officer.

All the heart-stirring details after losing memory were things the young officer had done for him.

The young officer wasn’t a gentle person, he was stubborn and aloof, yet he gave all his gentleness to him.

What is love, really? Is it memory? Memory is just a vessel that carries love; love is an instinct.

For several days, the young officer couldn’t see the general; he knew the general was intentionally avoiding him, perhaps tired of him.

The young officer stood in the hospital corridor, unsure of what to do. Although it was early spring, he felt incredibly cold.

He caressed the cufflink in his palm, slowly walking towards the dormitory.

It was called a dormitory, but it housed few people, the rooms were not small, belonging to high-ranking officers, and close to the training grounds, no less lavishly decorated than outside commercial housing.

Although he felt uneasy when he first moved in, he was secretly happy; standing at the door today, however, his mood was exceptionally heavy.

The young officer sighed, turned the key, and his eyes widened at the scene inside.

The usually chilly room was filled with flowers, the walls adorned with balloons and streamers, and the living room was crowded with people, including his wheelchair-bound brother, the gentle Widow Omega smiling tenderly, and the bandaged general.

“I’ve replaced the wedding ring, and I’d like to propose again. I want to spend a lifetime with you, hoping I still have that chance.” It was the general, kneeling on one knee, holding a box with a dazzling diamond ring.

“I was wrong. I shouldn’t have forgotten my young officer. Can you forgive me?”

The young officer felt a blur before his eyes; one moment he was inwardly mourning, and the next, his wishes were fulfilled, like a dream. He nodded and then shook his head, unable to speak.

He was willing; he had never really blamed the general.

“Sheng Lan better agree soon, or the general’s knees are going to hurt,” Widow Omega remarked with a laugh.

The man in the wheelchair seemed displeased, pinching Widow Omega’s waist.

The knelt bastard, who had stolen his brother and even coveted his wife, was indeed detestable; why not kneel a little longer?

Thus, the young officer reached out his slightly trembling hand, the ring was slipped onto his finger, he helped the general up, and was then pulled into a long, tender kiss by the excited general.

As the crowd dispersed, the general’s belongings had already been moved back.

“Why insist on surgery? Just rest and heal. What if it affects your cognitive functions?” The young officer lay exhausted on the general, sweating all over.

He seldom felt so drained; indeed, the man beneath him was too much to handle.

“Are you afraid I’d forget you again?” The general stroked the young officer’s hair, in a good mood.

“Hmph.” The young officer nuzzled into the general’s shoulder. Knowing how much the man loved him, he gradually became bolder, often initiating affectionate gestures that always left the general flustered.

Thus, the irrepressible general tried again, his hand wandering. Leaning close to the young officer’s ear, he whispered, “It won’t happen. I’ve already marked myself so even if someone else finds me, they’ll have to return me to you.”

“What mark?” The young officer’s earlobes tingled sensitively as he tried to escape, though his waist was firmly held, his movements somewhat coy.

“A little dog’s mark, a tattoo. Your name, hidden in a place only I can see when I shower.”

“Marking a little dog, do you think that’s good?”

“No.”

“I’ve already done it; want to see?”

The light switched on, revealing the fresh tattoo of his name near the lower abdomen, next to veins and scars, very sexy.

No wonder this man insisted on keeping the lights off just now; he was hiding it here.

“You’ve been really busy these days.” The young officer’s face flushed red, increasingly overwhelmed by the recent general, the aura of a cool man crumbling.

“If I don’t show initiative, my wife might not want me anymore. I’m just an unwanted little dog.” The general spoke seriously, uttering embarrassingly romantic words.

“Don’t talk like that anymore!”

The general indeed changed; he’d stick to his wife whether scolding someone fiercely one moment or softly caring about whether his wife had slept well the next.

The bandage on his head had been there for months and should have healed long ago; who knew how long he planned to keep up this charade.

Thus, the deputies never again judged that “the general and his wife lack affection,” and deeply reflected on their previous blindness.