HMHSE - 20

Outside, Shan Zong exited and immediately noticed Zhang Wei’s group of soldiers stationed nearby.

“You’re heading into the mountains again?”

Shen Rong had just been interrupted by the elderly doctor. Now she looked at him: “Mm, I already said I was just passing through.”

The tone of her voice caught his attention, and he glanced at her: “Then you don’t need to go.”

“Why not?” She couldn’t help but glance sideways.

“There’s no one to mine now. Why bother making the trip?” He continued: “Wait a few days. When the time comes, wait for me in the mountains.”

“Wait for you?” Shen Rong tilted her head, looking at him: “What am I waiting for you to do?”

When he first said it, he didn’t think much of it. But under her teasing tone, he suddenly felt a hint of flirtation. Her eyebrows arched slightly, as if he wasn’t asking her to wait for him in the mountains but to meet him secretly.

He crossed his arms, smirking faintly: “You don’t have to wait if you don’t want to.”

Shen Rong had already guessed he must have something planned. She knew this man always had ulterior motives, impossible to pin down. Silently, she scoffed at him in her heart.

Before she could speak, the people inside began to file out.

Shan Zong instructed Zhang Wei: “Take everyone back. No need to go into the mountains today.”

Zhang Wei instinctively glanced at Shen Rong, who nodded in agreement.

Hu Shiyi, still rubbing his shoulder, stepped forward: “Since we’re all free now, can we go eat? I haven’t had a single grain of rice, and I’m starving!”

Not only was he hungry, but his ordeal in the underground dungeon had left him shaken. Now that he’d recovered, his hunger doubled.

Shan Zong eyed him: “Didn’t I tell you to go lie down?”

Hu Shiyi pulled the elderly military doctor over: “I need to thank the old military doctor. He gave me excellent medicine, so I must treat him to a meal.”

The elderly doctor waved his hand in refusal: “No need, no need. You shouldn’t drink alcohol right now.”

Shan Zong interjected: “Alright, the old military doctor came at my request. This meal is on me.”

Hu Shiyi’s eyes immediately lit up: “Thank you, Boss!” His voice was loud, not sounding like someone injured.

Zhang Wei called for his team to regroup and return, then joined the gathering.

The military doctor thanked Shan Zong, and the woman beside him also bowed deeply: “Thank you, Commander Shan.”

Hu Shiyi had already decided on a place. Supporting his shoulder, he prepared to leave but paused when he noticed Shen Rong still standing there. He hesitated, glancing at Shan Zong.

With such an important figure present, should he invite her or not?

Shen Rong stood silently, saying nothing.

As Shan Zong passed by her, he paused: “If you don’t mind, come along.”

She glanced at him, gesturing toward Zirui and Donglai waiting nearby, before following.

They arrived at a very ordinary tavern.

As they entered, a waiter greeted them respectfully and ushered Shan Zong inside to take a seat.

It was just past noon, not mealtime, and there were a few patrons in the tavern. Upon seeing Shan Zong, they hastily left their seats and departed.

Shan Zong didn’t even raise an eyebrow, sitting down amidst the waiter’s continuous courtesies.

As a female guest, Shen Rong was seated at a nearby table.

Eating outdoors was simple—just rough wooden square tables. No wonder Shan Zong had spoken earlier as he did.

As she sat down, she casually remarked: “Rare occasion—I’m having a meal with you again.”

Shan Zong turned his face toward her: “This is nothing compared to what you usually eat.”

She softly replied: “I didn’t say anything.”

He tugged at the corner of his mouth, turning away.

Hu Shiyi and Zhang Wei pushed the military doctor to sit at their table. Everyone seemed to be glancing at them, so she refrained from speaking further.

A rustle of clothing sounded beside her—the woman accompanying the military doctor sat down.

Only then did Shen Rong glance at her. She was a very delicate-looking girl, dressed in plain robes, hands resting on her lap. Her demeanor appeared capable, yet her features were gentle.

Noticing Shen Rong’s gaze, the woman slightly inclined her body in greeting.

Shen Rong thought the woman seemed slightly older than herself but was very polite. She nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

Unfamiliar, they naturally had nothing to say.

At the neighboring table, however, things were lively.

The military doctor was familiar with them all. Apparently, he was preparing to retire to the countryside. Holding his cup, he toasted Shan Zong with tea instead of wine, cracking jokes: “After serving under Commander Shan for three years, I’ve been scared for three years. Now, old and weak, I can’t handle any more scares. It’s time to return home and enjoy a few peaceful years.”

Hu Shiyi chimed in: “If you leave, won’t she be left alone?” He pointed to the woman beside Shen Rong.

The military doctor laughed: “There’s nothing to be done. She still needs to marry. Can she serve me for her entire life?”

Hu Shiyi nodded: “True.”

Shen Rong wasn’t hungry and hadn’t touched her chopsticks. Listening to their idle chatter, she sipped tea a few times.

She heard the young woman beside her laugh gently: “Stop teasing me so much.”

Laughter echoed from the other table.

Shen Rong glanced at Shan Zong. There was no wine on the table; he held a cup of tea. Aside from occasionally responding to the military doctor with a soft “Hmm,” he hadn’t said anything to persuade him to stay.

She thought to herself how cold-hearted he was—it was a farewell after all.

…

Midway through the meal, Donglai suddenly walked in, stopping a few steps away with his hands clasped.

Seeing him, Shen Rong guessed something was up. Observing the lively conversation at the other table, she rose inconspicuously and exited.

Shan Zong noticed her passing behind him and glanced sideways but said nothing.

Shen Rong approached, and Donglai immediately followed her outside.

Thinking it inappropriate to speak directly, she walked until they reached a corner before stopping to ask: “What is it?”

Donglai retrieved a letter from his chest: “It just arrived from Chang’an. The messenger was about to enter the city to deliver it to the official residence when I encountered him. I brought it directly to Young Mistress.”

Hearing it was from Chang’an, Shen Rong quickly opened the letter. It was from her brother, Changsun Xin.

Spanning several pages, the content mostly inquired about her situation in Youzhou, urging her to take care of herself. He also mentioned that the Ministry of Works in the capital was arranging to take over the mining operations, and everything was proceeding smoothly.

Flipping through a couple of pages, she found a small note written in tiny characters: Rest assured, I haven’t told our parents about Shan Zong being in Youzhou.

He continued: However, Second Cousin Pei visited and asked about you.

Changsun Xin had fabricated a story, saying she was unwell recently and recuperating at Lishan, far from the capital, and thus unavailable to meet. He instructed her to read Second Cousin’s letter and cooperate by pretending to be ill, writing a reply to send home. They would use it to respond to Pei’s family, avoiding the impression that she had disappeared without cause.

Their parents agreed—before the gold mine was revealed, they were reluctant to spread news of her presence in Youzhou.

Shen Rong now understood why the letter was so long—it also included a letter from her cousin, Second Brother Pei.

For now, she set it aside, tucked the letter into her sleeve, and muttered: “Such a hassle.”

Donglai stood respectfully with his head bowed.

“It’s not you I’m talking about,” she instructed: “Write a reply to my brother. Tell him preparations for the mining are still underway, and I’ll deal with Second Cousin’s letter later.”

Donglai acknowledged.

Shen Rong returned to the tavern. Just as she reached the entrance, she saw Shan Zong standing at the counter, his tall figure clad in stark black Hu-style attire, exuding an aura of strength. One hand rested on his saber, slanted at his waist, while the other placed some silver coins on the counter to settle the bill.

Another figure approached from behind, calling out: “Commander Shan.”

Shan Zong turned.

It was the young woman accompanying the military doctor.

She held out her hands, retrieving a small paper packet from her sleeve and handing it to him: “Please remember to use this medicine when you return. I noticed your shoulder is torn. If the skin is broken, it’s still considered a wound.”

Shan Zong didn’t accept: “It’s fine.”

“Please take it,” she insisted, holding it out with both hands.

Shan Zong glanced at it, casually accepted, and tucked it into his chest: “Thank you.”

“Commander Shan, no need to be courteous. Consider it gratitude for this meal,” she said, withdrawing her hands.

Unconsciously, Shen Rong had moved to the side of the door, her eyes peeking inward. She watched as Shan Zong silently returned to his seat, followed shortly by the young woman.

Only then did she lift her skirt and step inside gracefully.

Hu Shiyi and Zhang Wei were still chatting idly with the military doctor. Though not much time had passed, the table was already a mess of empty plates and bowls.

Shan Zong walked over, tapping the table with his fingers: “That’s enough. The city gates close early. Do you plan to stay here all day?”

The two immediately straightened up: “Yes, Boss. We’ll leave right away.”

The military doctor stood, supporting himself on his legs: “Indeed, there are still people waiting for me to visit. I should go.”

The young woman stepped forward to assist him, bowing deeply to Shan Zong. As she neared the door, she spotted Shen Rong and bowed again, her manners impeccable.

Shen Rong watched as they left one by one. Turning her head, Shan Zong was already before her.

He smiled: “I thought you had left. Seems like you’ll have to eat alone.”

“No matter,” Shen Rong replied indifferently.

Shan Zong had already noticed she hadn’t touched her food. Predicting someone of her status wouldn’t tolerate such a place, he assumed she was being stubborn, picked up his saber, and exited.

Shen Rong followed behind, maintaining a distance of a step or two, and suddenly asked: “What’s that girl’s name?”

Shan Zong glanced back: “Which one?”

“Besides me, who else shared this meal?”

He understood, turned his head back, and continued walking: “Zhao Fumei.”

Shen Rong raised an eyebrow: “Surname Zhao?”

Shan Zong explained: “She’s from a military household. Her entire family perished in battle. Zhao Jinlian took pity on her and adopted her as his younger sister, so she changed her surname to Zhao.”

“Oh.”

He suddenly stopped, turning to look at her: “Why are you asking about her?”

“Just curious,” Shen Rong replied, stepping past him.

Now it was Shan Zong’s turn to follow behind her.

Soon, they returned to where Shan Zong’s horse was tied. There was no one around—Hu Shiyi and Zhang Wei, not daring to delay, had already led their men back to the military compound.

The door of the building with the medical sign was locked. The military doctor had likely gone elsewhere to see patients.

Only Donglai and Zirui remained, waiting with her horse on the other side of the road.

“Your horse is over there,” Shan Zong said, untying his own horse and reminding her. In the next moment, a hand grasped his arm.

“Wait.”

Shen Rong stood before him, her figure mostly obscured by the tall horse, casting a faint shadow over her.

He stopped, glanced at her hand, then at her: “What now?”

Shen Rong looked at him, her other hand reaching into his chest. He wasn’t wearing much, and through the thin layer of his undershirt, her fingers felt the firmness beneath.

Never having directly touched a man’s chest before, she paused momentarily. Retrieving her hand, she held the packet of medicine, tore a small opening, dipped her finger inside, and applied it to his shoulder, spreading it over the torn mark.

As usual, he simply watched, calm and composed, unsurprised that she knew he carried a packet of medicine.

After she slowly smeared it twice over his shoulder, he suddenly raised his hand, grabbing hers.

Shen Rong couldn’t help but look up at him.

“If I hadn’t stopped you, would you have kept going?” His voice lowered.

Her expression unchanged, she replied indifferently: “I was just being kind and helping you apply the medicine.”

Shan Zong suddenly leaned down, hidden by the horse’s back, and murmured: “Actually, I’ve always known what you wanted to do.”

Shen Rong froze, seeing the familiar smirk curl at the corner of his lips—both roguish and mischievous.

She wanted to make him lower his head.

He had always known—he just didn’t say anything.

Shen Rong bit her lip discreetly, showing no emotion on her face. She twisted her wrist, pulling her hand back, then shoved the packet of medicine into his chest and walked past the horse.

“If you don’t want me to apply it, fine.”

Shan Zong straightened up, watching her walk away. The warmth of her hand lingered on his palm. He adjusted his collar, casually wiping it off. The packet of medicine in his chest was tossed carelessly into the grass by the roadside.