HMHSE - 12

Since returning from the governor’s residence, Guangyuan had begun to suspect that he might have made a mistake.

He felt that after the noblewoman—formerly the mistress—entered the courtyard where her former husband was during their visit to the governor’s residence, she had returned with a cold demeanor.

However, when he peeked into the inner courtyard, he didn’t notice anything unusual. Reflecting on the scene when the master left the other day, it seemed no different from usual.

Shen Rong stared at the characters before her.

The scroll rested on the first page, titled The Rules for Women . She leaned against the couch by the window, flipping over and over the two characters, then looked up and asked: “Has Donglai been in the mountains for so long without sending any news?”

Zirui beside her replied: “No.”

She asked again: “And my brother?”

“The young master went into the mountains early this morning. He’s anxious but fears Governor Zhao will invite him to another banquet. He said maintaining appearances is exhausting, especially when facing…” Zirui caught herself just in time.

Facing that man. Shen Rong gave an indifferent hum, recalling his audacious expression from the other day.

She closed the scroll, not wanting to think about his figure anymore, stood up, and said: “Help me change. I’m going into the mountains to check.”

Zirui hurried to prepare.

The weather today wasn’t particularly good—thin sunlight and a biting wind.

Shen Rong changed into Hu-style clothing, donned a veil hat for wind protection, and picked up a riding crop with a silk-wrapped handle, planning to ride.

Just as they exited the gate, Guangyuan followed and asked: “Is the noblewoman planning to enter the mountains? Should I send someone to notify the military compound?”

Zirui then remembered that Zhang Wei’s men had already accompanied the master into the mountains. They could only bring household guards now, but strangely, the young mistress hadn’t given any orders today.

Shen Rong took the horse brought by the guards, stepped onto the stirrup, and mounted: “Let’s go.”

Zirui shook her head at Guangyuan and followed on a shorter horse, leading the guards onward.

The city felt somewhat special today. Along the way, many rooftops and courtyards were adorned with flowers and grass, as if celebrating some festival.

As they approached the city gates, Zirui spotted a group of soldiers stationed under the walls from afar. Each was clad in neat armor, their horses strong and saddles gleaming. She spurred her horse forward to catch up and whispered: “Young Mistress, that’s the military compound’s contingent.”

Shen Rong’s veil hat was half-lifted, and as she turned her head, she saw the group. Coincidentally, her gaze landed on the black-clad man emerging from behind the formation.

She averted her eyes and said: “Go straight ahead. I don’t want to see him right now.”

Zirui acknowledged, refraining from further comment.

Shen Rong turned her attention to the other side. As they neared the city gates, she suddenly called out: “Wait.”

Zirui quickly signaled the guards to stop.

Shen Rong tugged the reins, turning her horse toward the roadside.

By the road stood an apothecary shop with large open windows. Inside, rows upon rows of medicine cabinets were filled to the brim.

But what caught her eye was the tall pole standing at the entrance, topped with a signboard. That wasn’t unusual—the peculiar part was the grass-like plant tied atop the pole.

Shen Rong dismounted, walked to the entrance, lifted her veil, and looked up again.

A clerk ran out from behind the counter: “Honored guest, are you looking for a particular herb?”

Shen Rong raised her riding crop and pointed at the top of the pole: “Is that also one of your medicinal herbs?”

“Yes,” the clerk replied.

“Take it down for me to see.”

The clerk chuckled awkwardly: “The honored guest must be from out of town. That’s not for sale. Today is a special occasion; households in Youzhou hang flowers and grass to seek good fortune and ward off calamity.”

Shen Rong glanced at Zirui.

The latter understood immediately and began to take out money.

“No, no,” the clerk politely declined upon seeing this: “It really isn’t for sale. This is the last bunch we gathered before the mountain closure. Taking it down would bring bad luck.”

Shen Rong had initially suspected it was imported from elsewhere but learned it was collected before the mountain closure. Intrigued, she took a step closer: “Take it down. If it’s not what I need, I’ll hang it back up myself.”

“This…” The clerk hesitated, feeling uneasy. But seeing the large group of guards behind her, he didn’t dare refuse outright.

Shen Rong’s patience waned. Constantly tilting her head upward was straining her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several soldiers approaching. Turning her head, she saw a figure beside her.

The clerk, startled, quickly bowed: “Commander Shan.”

Shen Rong’s gaze traveled from his boot-clad calf upward, over his tightly cinched waist, to his chin. Tilted upward, she felt overshadowed, turned her face away, and pulled down her veil.

Shan Zong had noticed her earlier. Standing conspicuously in front of the shop, she appeared as if causing trouble for the owner.

Seeing her actions now, he couldn’t help but smirk, reminded of the scene at the governor’s residence the other day.

She, who was so arrogant herself, somehow still acted as if she had every right.

He glanced at the top of the pole: “What do you intend to do?”

“Buy the grass. Is that not allowed?” Shen Rong’s tone was light. Did he think he could control everything, even whether she married or bought grass? Even if Youzhou’s lawlessness knew no bounds, this was absurd.

Shan Zong remained silent, tilting his head to examine the top of the pole.

The clerk approached and quietly explained the situation to him.

Shen Rong shot another glance, noticing his hand resting on the saber hilt beneath her veil, his index finger tapping rhythmically, exuding an air of nonchalance.

She inwardly scoffed: His sword mirrored his personality—unyielding to persuasion.

“Hmm.” After listening, he dismissed the clerk and turned to ask: “What do you need this grass for?”

“I have a use for it.” Shen Rong replied: “Just name a price. All these excuses—it’s just a glance.”

“Give me your riding crop,” he said.

Shen Rong was bewildered. Before she could speak, the hand previously resting on his saber reached out and snatched the crop from her hand.

Startled, she pulled back her veil to see him straightening the coiled crop. With a flick of his arm, he whipped it like a shadow, leveraging his height advantage to precisely strike the top of the pole.

Instantly, the bundle of grass fell to the ground.

“It’s not like hanging grass will scare off outsiders. Take it if you want.” He said to the clerk.

“Yes…” The clerk stammered.

Shan Zong wound the crop back to its original form and handed it over.

Shen Rong’s gaze slowly swept over him, pondering his intentions, and did not accept it.

Shan Zong chuckled softly, his voice even lower: “In the future, be less arrogant and more obedient in my presence. I can be quite reasonable.”

Shen Rong’s expression darkened. She snatched the crop and pulled down her veil.

The clerk picked up the grass and offered it with both hands: “It’s just a bunch of jijiao grass. If the honored guest desires it, please take it.”

Shen Rong accepted it, examining it carefully from all angles, scrutinizing the stem, roots, and leaves. She remarked: “What jijiao grass? This is chives!”

With that, she turned to mount her horse.

Shan Zong walked back to his contingent and, seeing her ride straight out of the city, guessed she might be heading into the mountains again.

Once again setting off like this, her boldness remained unchanged.

“Mount up.” He swung onto his horse and ordered: “Everyone, follow me.”

When Shen Rong rushed into the mountains, Changsun Xin had already received the message and hurried over to meet her.

“Why such urgency?” he asked upon meeting her.

Shen Rong had ridden too fast, and her veil hat was slightly askew. She adjusted it: “Tell Donglai to pay attention to the roots while digging. If encountered, dig deeper.”

After thinking for a moment, she took out the scroll from her brocade bag, unfolded it to the relevant section, and examined it: “Only dig around the mountain’s eye.”

Though surprised, Changsun Xin promptly ordered someone to relay the instructions.

“What’s wrong? Did you come here alone?”

Before his words faded, Zhang Wei’s voice rang out: “The boss came again?”

Hu Shiyi whispered: “Definitely because of that golden beauty…”

The rest was inaudible.

Shen Rong took a few steps toward them and saw Shan Zong walking over leisurely, his saber in hand.

She glanced at him: “Are you afraid your military compound will be held responsible again?”

He replied: “If you know, why bother asking?”

Shen Rong pulled down her veil to cover her face and turned to leave, thinking to herself who was truly arrogant.

Hu Shiyi emerged from the woods: “Boss, how is that golden beauty treating you? It seems she’s deliberately opposing you?”

Shan Zong glanced at him: “Mind your business.”

How could he describe Changsun Shen Rong to him?

Zhang Wei followed and addressed Shan Zong: “They’ve been digging here for so long and found nothing. I thought they’d give up, but now they’re digging even more fervently.”

Upon hearing this, Shan Zong couldn’t help but look inside and moved further in.

Hu Shiyi shook his head: “I’ve always said there’s no mineral here. Why are they still digging?” He nudged Zhang Wei: “Come, let’s go take a look.”

From the mud pit to Wangji Mountain and then to the riverside, according to Shen Rong’s instructions, multiple spots had been dug, but nothing was found.

Now, Donglai had led everyone to focus on digging deeply at the mountain’s eye.

Shen Rong stood on the mountain path watching. Glancing aside, she spotted Shan Zong’s figure again.

He didn’t approach, standing against the wind with arms crossed casually, seemingly observing their actions.

She pretended not to notice.

After a while, Shan Zong sensed something amiss. Feeling he had stayed too long, he adjusted his arm guard, stopped looking, and turned to leave.

“Young Mistress!” Suddenly, Donglai called out from afar.

He hurried over to Shen Rong, covered in mud, holding a piece of stone he had chiseled off, and handed it to her.

Zirui took it and delivered it to Shen Rong.

It was a small piece of charred black stone, resembling something scorched by fire, with a yellowish tip.

Changsun Xin leaned in, unconsciously frowning: “Well?”

Shen Rong peeled the yellow tip of the stone and suddenly looked at Hu Shiyi, who was spectating with Zhang Wei, handing him the stone: “You bite it.”

Hu Shiyi froze: “What?”

Changsun Xin, eager for results, clasped his hands behind his back and looked over: “What? Are centurions now defying orders?”

Hu Shiyi instinctively glanced at Shan Zong, suspecting the golden beauty had heard him say there was no mineral and was intentionally targeting him.

Shan Zong glanced at him from afar, unfazed, wondering what Changsun Shen Rong was up to.

Receiving his gaze, Hu Shiyi reluctantly approached, his face flushed, and slowly took the blackened stone, glancing at Shen Rong: “Do I really have to bite it?”

“Only the tip, not eat it.” Shen Rong said.

Hu Shiyi intended to feign a bite, but upon touching it, he froze: “Huh? Soft?”

Shen Rong suddenly turned and walked toward the mountain’s eye.

Changsun Xin quickly followed.

The so-called mountain’s eye was merely a central position Shen Rong had designated—one end was the mud pit, the other the eastern riverside.

She stood at the spot where Donglai had just unearthed fragments, peered into the pit, and turned back to find Changsun Xin already beside her.

“That’s fenzi stone.” Shen Rong said.

Changsun Xin’s eyes widened in astonishment: “Really? We’ve never found this before.”

When Shen Rong heard that the chives came from the mountains, she suspected there might be fenzi stone.

She stood quietly, organizing her thoughts: earthen mountain, chives, blackened stone with a soft yellow tip.

The scroll only provided the location, but these clues had just connected.

She glanced at Changsun Xin and softly asked: “Do you remember how that Chang’an nursery rhyme went?”

“Changsun’s son shakes the mountains and rivers, unearths gold mountains to present…” Changsun Xin stopped himself in time, looking at his sister.

Shen Rong smiled: “I told you—I don’t believe we can’t accomplish this.”

There was indeed a mine here—an unexpectedly large one.

From afar, Shan Zong watched remotely, took a few steps, and glanced back once more.

Shen Rong stood there, the wind lifting her veil, revealing her triumphant smile.

He looked at the mountain again, suddenly realizing that her repeated trips into the mountains seemed to have a purpose.