HMHSE - 16

After Changsun Xin left, only Shen Rong remained in the official residence.

At noon, Guangyuan walked through the garden and saw the group of servants who had just gone to the inner courtyard to serve the noblewoman her meal. Their numbers hadn’t decreased much, indicating that the noblewoman was still highly favored at home.

Just as he was thinking this, Shen Rong emerged from the inner courtyard, passing through the garden and spotting him.

“What is that you’re carrying?”

Guangyuan held a thick black Hu-style garment in his hands, topped with a leather belt about an inch wide.

He lowered his head and replied: “It’s newly made winter attire.”

Shen Rong glanced at the sky—blue skies and white clouds, clear and crisp autumn weather.

“Where has winter come from?”

Guangyuan explained: “The noblewoman may not know, but Youzhou has been experiencing strong winds recently. This is a sign that winter will arrive early.”

Shen Rong had initially asked casually, but upon hearing this, her expression turned serious: “Really?”

Guangyuan nodded: “Yes, I’ve been here for three years and have heard it said before. Later, I found it to be true.”

Shen Rong felt uneasy. If this were the case, they didn’t have much time left to mine before winter arrived. They needed to excavate the most difficult section before then.

She turned and instructed: “Prepare—I need to go ask the governor to borrow men immediately.”

Zirui acknowledged and went to prepare the carriage.

Shen Rong glanced at the Hu-style garment—it was clearly military-style, and she understood: “Is this for him?”

Guangyuan confirmed: “Yes, it’s for the master. He’s about to patrol the jurisdiction, which is quite remote. It might come in handy.”

He was going on patrol? Shen Rong had just learned of this news—it was such a coincidence, and he was leaving immediately.

Zirui returned, holding her cloak: “Young Mistress, shall we leave now?”

Shen Rong glanced again at the garment. That man must have no regard for her, not even leaving a message. It was as if she didn’t exist—he truly didn’t care.

She nodded: “Let’s go.”

…

After entering the carriage, Shen Rong first sent a guard to summon Zhao Jinlian.

She knew the gates of Youzhou closed early. It was already past noon, and the Great Prison was far away—they couldn’t afford to delay. She decided to set off first.

The journey went smoothly, with Donglai escorting the carriage. As they approached the Great Prison, his sharp eyes spotted a group of riders coming from behind and reported to the carriage: “Young Mistress, the governor himself has arrived.”

The carriage stopped outside the prison. Shen Rong stepped down with Zirui’s help and looked back—sure enough, it was Zhao Jinlian himself.

As soon as he approached, he said: “I’m aware of the reason the young lady mentioned. From the looks of it, winter will indeed arrive early.”

Dismounting from his horse, he continued: “I’ve been keeping this matter in mind and have recently arranged for it. I originally intended to leave it to your brother to decide, but since he has returned to the capital, I’ll leave it to the young lady to handle.”

Shen Rong felt somewhat reassured—the governor was reliable. She nodded: “That’s perfect.”

The prison guards came out to greet them. Shen Rong left Zirui behind and took only Donglai with her.

Zhao Jinlian accompanied her inside. Glancing at her expression, he mentioned: “However, it’s unfortunate timing today—Commander Shan is about to embark on a patrol.”

This time, he personally came because Shan Zong had entrusted the matter to him.

Shen Rong adjusted her cloak as she walked, pursed her lips, pulled up her hood, and simply hummed in acknowledgment without saying anything.

Upon entering the gate, she paused, recalling the dry discomfort she experienced the other day, and asked: “Doesn’t this place need to be watered first?”

Zhao Jinlian assumed Shan Zong must have told her about the conditions of the Great Prison and smiled: “The jailers will take care of it.”

With that, she proceeded inside.

Indeed, preparations were underway in the prison. All high ventilation windows were closed, and there were traces of watering on the ground. However, as they moved, the moisture quickly dried.

Behind them, jailers carried buckets to continue watering, maintaining the dampness.

Not long after, they arrived at the open space outside the cells they had visited before.

This open area was essentially a walled courtyard with a tight dome. It had been watered, and torches burned brightly around the perimeter, illuminating the surroundings for ease of selecting prisoners.

Zhao Jinlian nodded and instructed: “Bring the prisoners out.”

The jailers sprang into action, first closing the double gates through which they had entered, then systematically retrieving prisoners from the cells.

The previous batch of selected prisoners had already been moved, and this time it was another group, many brought over from another block of cells.

Shen Rong paid special attention to their direction—they had passed through a long corridor, the same one she had taken to the underground dungeon. Presumably, these were also serious offenders.

The prisoners were brought out in lines, forced to kneel under the cold glint of the jailers’ blades. A vast sea of kneeling figures stretched out before them, a sea of black heads visible at a glance.

Zhao Jinlian said: “Everyone who could be brought out is here now.”

Before his words faded, Shen Rong had already stepped forward, personally inspecting them.

He was secretly astonished—the courage of this noblewoman truly set her apart from ordinary people.

Under the torchlight, prisoners of all kinds were visible, much better than before. Shen Rong noticed many strong young men.

She took a handkerchief in her hand, lightly covering her mouth and nose, and slowly walked among the prisoners, examining each one step by step. Whenever she deemed someone unsuitable, she glanced at Donglai behind her.

Donglai, upon receiving the signal, grabbed the prisoner’s collar and dragged them aside.

In no time, a large group of screened-out prisoners had accumulated, and the jailers escorted them back.

Shen Rong walked past the last two rows of prisoners. They were disheveled, their faces obscured, shackled at both hands and feet, but their physiques appeared robust.

She returned, removed her handkerchief, and quietly asked Zhao Jinlian: “Are the last two rows from beyond the border?”

Zhao Jinlian glanced: “Yes.”

No wonder they looked so familiar. She had seen similar captives in the relay station when the bearded men caught them. Perhaps some of those captured that day were among them.

“Those from beyond the border won’t do,” Shen Rong said decisively. Even though they seemed capable, the enemy remained the enemy.

Zhao Jinlian agreed: “Indeed. During the earlier arrangements, I only ordered them to bring out those in good health. Identity matters too. Those from beyond the border are naturally unsuitable—Commander Shan wouldn’t approve either.”

Hearing him mention that man, Shen Rong unconsciously calculated the time, guessing that he should have already departed.

…

Outside the military compound gates, the troops were assembling, ready to depart.

Hu Shiyi, who had returned after seeing off Changsun Xin, was also accompanying them this time. He handed the Hu-style garment delivered by Guangyuan to the rear logistics personnel and glanced ahead: “Boss, are we patrolling at night again?”

Shan Zong stood beside his tall horse, tightening his arm guards: “Yes.”

Night patrols were the most unpredictable form of patrol. Previously nonexistent, they began after the establishment of the garrison and were considered his unique military strategy to counter threats from beyond the border.

Otherwise, they would have already departed—why wait until the afternoon sun began to slant.

Preparations complete, Shan Zong mounted his horse: “Is everything arranged?”

Hu Shiyi replied: “Lei Da is stationed at the compound, and Zhang Wei will attend to that golden beauty. Everything is in order.”

Mentioning the golden beauty reminded him of something: “By the way, Governor Zhao sent someone to see us off and deliver a message. That golden beauty went to the Great Prison again today to select prisoners.”

Shortly after Guangyuan delivered the clothes, Governor Zhao’s messenger arrived. In a rush to depart, Shan Zong dismissed them all.

Shan Zong tugged the reins, recalling his earlier warning to her not to go again. Yet she still went—it seemed she never listened.

“Bring me the prison records received in the past few days,” he suddenly said.

Hu Shiyi was about to mount his horse but, hearing this, turned back to fetch the prison records from the compound.

The prison records documented various matters in the Great Prison, primarily to monitor prisoner activity.

Shan Zong sat on his horse, flipping through them. Recently, everything had been peaceful, especially Liu Hetong, who had become docile after being punished and hadn’t caused any further trouble.

He tossed the records back: “What about those from beyond the border?”

Hu Shiyi caught them: “Them? Presumably, they’ve been scared stiff by our capture. I heard they’ve been behaving ever since entering the prison.”

Shan Zong sneered: “Those from beyond the border have never behaved.”

Hu Shiyi was confused: “What do you mean, boss?”

“When we received five captives from beyond the border at the relay station, the border patrol captured a few more shortly after. Their frequent arrivals seem deliberate—as if they’re being sent.” Shan Zong tapped his saber, speaking slowly and deliberately.

In a place like the Great Prison of Youzhou, unrest was normal. The quieter they were, the more suspicious it became.

He wondered what they were enduring, perhaps waiting for an opportunity.

…

“Has the young lady finished selecting? We’ve been here for a while, and it’s getting late. Returning to the city will require knocking on the gates. I bear responsibility and can’t let you stay too long.” In the prison, Zhao Jinlian looked at the figure cloaked in her cape, clearly out of place in this grim setting.

Shen Rong turned to look at him: “What responsibility does the governor bear?”

Zhao Jinlian realized his slip of tongue and chuckled, stroking his beard: “Nothing.”

Shen Rong didn’t dwell on it, turning her gaze back to the remaining prisoners in the open area.

A glance caught her attention. Following it, she saw the last two rows of kneeling prisoners, but their disheveled state made it impossible to identify them among the crowd. Perhaps she was mistaken.

She instructed Donglai: “Take the last two rows away first. We’ll review the rest later.”

Donglai acknowledged and relayed the message to the jailers.

Several burly jailers immediately marched forward, brandishing their blades and shouting: “Get up! Move!”

They treated the other prisoners with official detachment but were especially harsh toward those from beyond the border. After all, they were enemies. If not for needing to keep them alive for questioning, they would have been killed for daring to infiltrate the border.

The group was dragged to their feet and shuffled slowly toward the corridor, returning to the deep, dark cells.

One jailer, annoyed by their sluggish pace, kicked one of them. The kicked prisoner collapsed at the entrance and suddenly stopped moving.

Shen Rong, who had been observing the others, heard the commotion and glanced over.

“Stop pretending to be dead!” The jailer reached out to drag him. Just as his hand extended, the figure on the ground leapt up, snapping his handcuffs onto the jailer’s neck and biting his ear.

The jailer screamed in pain. In that instant, another disheveled prisoner lunged at his legs. The blade in his hand slipped to the ground, and a third prisoner seized it.

Chaos erupted.

Their movements were swift, as if rehearsed countless times. The prisoners in the area immediately joined the fray.

Donglai hurried forward, shielding Shen Rong as he retreated.

Zhao Jinlian was already shocked, waving his hand to summon the jailers while blocking her path and shouting urgently: “Quick! Notify Commander Shan!”

A jailer ran to open the gate but then remembered—Shan Zong had already left. His face paled further.

Shen Rong watched the sudden upheaval, instinctively clutching the scroll in her bosom.

The scene before her had turned into a battleground. The hardened criminals were ruthless, seemingly premeditated. Jailers wrestled with them, bodies collided, and ears rang with roars.

Suddenly, thunderous hoofbeats echoed like rolling thunder.

She turned her head and heard a loud neighing as horses charged in from outside. With a deafening crash, the gates shattered, and a horse burst through.

The rider leapt down—black robes billowing, strides fierce and wind-swept, drawing a saber in one hand.

The cavalry behind followed suit, drawing their sabers and charging forward.

A prisoner who had just killed a jailer recognized him: “Shan…”

Shan Zong swung his saber.

Blood splattered onto his shoe tips. Shen Rong took a step back, her eyes wide as she stared at the man.

Shan Zong advanced with his saber, not pausing for a moment, blood dripping from the blade: “Those who acted will lose their heads.”