HMHSE - 25

When Shen Rong returned to the mining site, everything had already returned to normal, as if the earlier disturbance had never occurred.

However, she immediately noticed that the black masks covering the mouths and noses of the prisoners were gone.

“What’s going on?” she asked Dong Lai.

Detecting the displeasure in her tone, Dong Lai approached and whispered a few words.

Shen Rong looked ahead and saw that Shan Zong had returned first. He stood there, arms crossed over his sword, watching intently.

Dong Lai explained that this was his arrangement.

No wonder he had said earlier that they wouldn’t dare misbehave again—he had already dealt with the shameless one.

Shen Rong searched for Unsinned Five. By now, he had been bound with his hands behind his back and thrown amidst a pile of rubble. Bloodstains on his neck and mouth had been left untreated. He lay there at an awkward angle, breathing heavily with strange noises, his disheveled hair making him look even more like a wild man.

Dong Lai rested his hand on his sword and asked: “Does Young Mistress wish to deal with him further?”

Shen Rong coldly averted her gaze and replied: “Since they’ll soon be sent into the mine pits to dig, what harm can he do down there in the deep tunnels?”

“He’ll be the first to go down,” Shan Zong suddenly interjected.

Shen Rong turned to look at him.

Shan Zong stared at the scene and said: “Send him down to lead the way. If he slips and gets buried below, it’ll save me the trouble of dealing with him.”

Unsinned Five made an angry movement but was kicked back into the rubble by the soldiers guarding him. However, fearing that Shan Zong might really cut out the tongues of those four hostages, he only breathed heavily, not uttering a single word.

Shan Zong walked over leisurely, his thumb resting on the hilt of his sword, appearing ready to strike at any moment. His demeanor seemed even more ruthless than before, provoking Unsinned Five once more: “If you’d acted like this earlier, you wouldn’t have ended up in this sorry state.” A toothless beast was all he was now. Unsinned Five clenched his teeth, emitting strange sounds, but ultimately endured, looking as though it pained him more than being killed on the spot.

As Shan Zong passed by Shen Rong, he paused briefly and said softly: “Do you believe me now? I told you he wouldn’t dare.”

Shen Rong looked at him. She had thought earlier that he was doing it deliberately, but it turned out he truly was—almost as if he were avenging her.

In truth, her anger had dissipated, and the last traces of displeasure vanished. Her face remained calm: “Mm, I believe you.”

Shan Zong chuckled and walked past, heading toward the other side.

Shen Rong looked again at Unsinned Five, who was now being dragged by Dong Lai to the edge of the mine pit.

His bindings were loosened, and a pickaxe was tossed to him. Under the watchful eyes of the soldiers’ blades, he was indeed the first to be forced into the pit.

…

With Shan Zong personally overseeing them, the group caused no further disturbances.

When Shen Rong left the mountains, the remaining prisoners were also herded over by the soldiers.

Jiachen Three, dragging his pickaxe, went down second, followed by everyone else in succession.

The sound of digging shifted from above ground to below, becoming heavier and muffled.

As dusk approached, the wind grew fiercer. Dust and sand swirled along the entire route from the mountain to the city.

Even the squad of soldiers escorting Shen Rong moved slowly against the gusts.

She sat on her horse, pulling her hood closer to shield herself, when she heard Shan Zong’s unhurried voice from behind: “Form ranks. Take a detour before entering the city.”

He had also emerged from the mountains and was riding behind them.

The soldiers acknowledged his order.

As they neared the city gates, the towering walls provided some shelter, and the wind began to subside.

Shen Rong lifted her hood and turned her head, noticing that he was still there.

“Do you have business in the city today?”

Shan Zong held the reins with one hand while brushing dust off his clothes with the other. He countered: “Are you saying I can’t enter the city unless I have business?”

Before Shen Rong could respond, another gust of wind carried dust toward her. She quickly raised her hand to shield her eyes.

Dong Lai, ever perceptive, rode closer: “Young Mistress, is something wrong with your eye?”

She muttered faintly: “Sand got in.”

Given her skills, her eyes were naturally important. Even a small irritation from a grain of sand couldn’t be ignored.

Dong Lai immediately handed her a clean handkerchief.

Taking it, Shen Rong covered her affected eye.

Her horse continued forward, and they entered through the city gates.

A woman’s voice called out: “Mountain Envoy.”

Shen Rong turned her head slightly and saw a familiar figure standing outside the medical quarters beneath the city walls.

Zhao Fumei stood there, hands clasped, facing the gate as if waiting for someone.

As soon as Shan Zong appeared on horseback, she called out. Then, spotting Shen Rong, she hesitated briefly, smiled faintly, and bowed respectfully: “My Lady.”

With her eye covered, Shen Rong found it inconvenient to speak.

Shan Zong had already dismounted and said casually: “Help her take care of it.”

Zhao Fumei was momentarily startled but then approached to assist Shen Rong in dismounting.

Only then did Shen Rong realize he was referring to her. She had assumed only Dong Lai had noticed her irritated eye.

“What happened, My Lady?” Zhao Fumei helped her into the medical quarters. Upon entering, she understood immediately: “It’s just an irritated eye—a minor issue. Careful cleaning will resolve it.”

She brought over a shallow copper basin filled with clear water and invited Shen Rong to sit.

Outside, everyone waited temporarily.

By the time Shen Rong’s eye felt better, she noticed that the medical quarters had been tidied up. A soft cloth bundle lay on the table.

Zhao Fumei wiped away some spilled water nearby and smiled at her: “A new military doctor will soon arrive to take over here. As a woman, and with my age, it’s inconvenient for me to handle these military injuries anymore. I won’t be coming here after this.”

Shen Rong nodded. Still holding the handkerchief, she gently dabbed her eye a couple more times before setting it aside.

Zhao Fumei folded the dry cloth in her hands and glanced at her: “Actually, My Lady, if you avoided going into the mountains so often, such bothersome incidents wouldn’t occur.”

Shen Rong sensed the underlying meaning in her words and slightly raised her head: “I go into the mountains because I have matters to attend to.”

Zhao Fumei wiped away the last droplet of water and looked at her still-red eye: “And are these matters ones that require Mountain Envoy’s presence every day?”

Only then did Shen Rong notice how different Zhao Fumei looked today. Always dressed plainly, she now wore a bright red outfit with a patterned sash around her waist. Even her hair had been carefully styled, adorned with a pearl hairpin.

She glanced outside but didn’t see Shan Zong anywhere.

She guessed that Zhao Fumei had probably been waiting for him earlier, only to see him return with her. With a composed expression, she replied: “That’s right. These matters indeed require his cooperation.”

Zhao Fumei remained silent, finished wiping the table, and moved the basin aside. Returning, she smiled faintly: “Mountain Envoy is truly a pity.”

Shen Rong asked: “What do you mean?”

Zhao Fumei didn’t sit but stood before her, speaking gently: “I once heard the old military doctor explain: ‘The eldest son inherits the family name, and respect is bestowed upon him. The one who unites all hearts becomes the patriarch.’ Mountain Envoy’s name signifies his position within the Shan family. Yet I’ve heard that he decisively severed ties with his family. How can one not feel regret for such a loss?”

Shen Rong’s expression instantly cooled.

Indeed, this was the true meaning behind Shan Zong’s name—not the playful remark she had made about him being the “Ancestor of Ten Thousand Mountains.”

He was the eldest son of the Shan family, born with great expectations, which was why he received that name. Later, he proved himself worthy, becoming the rightful heir everyone anticipated.

Zhao Fumei’s seemingly casual remark served as a reminder of this past—the dissolution of his marriage to Shen Rong, his departure to Youzhou, and the fading of his former glory.

Thus, she, as a divorced wife cast aside, shouldn’t constantly appear before her ex-husband.

Shen Rong twirled the handkerchief in her fingers, sitting upright. Suddenly, she smiled.

Her features were striking; when she smiled, it was like flowers blooming in the wind, captivating attention. Even Zhao Fumei was momentarily dazzled but then asked in surprise: “Why does My Lady smile?”

Shen Rong’s eyes sparkled with amusement, though her tone remained indifferent: “I simply find it amusing. If someone has something to discuss, they should approach the relevant person directly. Matters between him and me concern only us two—it has nothing to do with you. Similarly, whatever intentions you have toward him, why involve me? I don’t care.”

Zhao Fumei was momentarily speechless.

Her earlier words had clearly been interpreted correctly, yet Shen Rong’s response was unexpected. She had assumed that a noblewoman like her would react with immediate indignation.

Shen Rong rose and exited.

Moments later, Dong Lai entered and placed a piece of silver on the table as thanks.

Once the room was empty, Zhao Fumei finally moved her feet and glanced outside.

Shen Rong hadn’t walked far when she saw Shan Zong emerge from the neighboring room, one hand holding his sword. They met face-to-face.

She stopped, glancing sideways at him: “So she’s your experience?”

“What?” Shan Zong initially didn’t understand what she meant, but upon reflection, he recalled his earlier retort to her. He hadn’t expected her to remember. After scrutinizing her, he asked: “Who’s my experience?”

One of Shen Rong’s eyes was still red. She gave him a cold, fleeting glance and said nothing more, brushing past him and leaving.

Shan Zong watched her mount her horse and ride away with Dong Lai and the Changsun family guards. Turning his head, he glanced at the medical quarters.

Zhao Fumei stepped out and bowed deeply: “I’ve been waiting for Mountain Envoy for some time.”

Shan Zong approached, and she stepped aside, inviting him inside.

The place, now tidied up, seemed larger than before.

Shan Zong surveyed the area and sat down on the Hu-style chair where Shen Rong had previously sat. Looking at Zhao Fumei, he said: “Tell me what the old military doctor left for me.”

Zhao Fumei had sent someone to the military post earlier, relaying that the old military doctor had left a message for him before departing. It couldn’t be conveyed remotely, so he was requested to come here.

After commanding Shen Rong’s group to enter the city, he remembered and decided to make this trip.

Zhao Fumei stood quietly, folding her hands, saying nothing.

Shan Zong tapped the scabbard of his sword with his finger and stood up: “If you can’t recall, there’s no need to say anything. When you remember, tell Hu Eleven.”

Zhao Fumei quickly called out: “Mountain Envoy, wait! I have something to say.”

He stopped, his brow furrowing slightly: “What can’t be said straightforwardly that requires fabricating a reason?”

Zhao Fumei lowered her head, her fingers clutching the hem of her dress. Her voice softened: “Please forgive me, Mountain Envoy. It’s precisely because it’s difficult to express openly that I resorted to this.” She hesitated briefly before continuing: “These words I’ve kept hidden for three years since meeting Mountain Envoy.”

Shan Zong’s fingers continued tapping the scabbard absentmindedly. His expression remained impassive: “If you’ve kept quiet for three years, why speak now?”

Zhao Fumei couldn’t help but raise her head: “Could it be that Mountain Envoy already knows what I’m about to say?”

What could a woman possibly want to convey by fabricating reasons to summon him? And with no one else present, what else could she say?

Unless Shan Zong were an inexperienced youth, how could he pretend ignorance?

He turned to leave: “As long as you remain silent, I’ll assume I don’t know.”

Zhao Fumei actually took a step forward: “Mountain Envoy, I fear that if I don’t speak now, I may never get another chance.”

Afraid he would walk away, she blurted out: “Mountain Envoy has been divorced for three years and remains unmarried. Though we haven’t interacted much in the past, we’ve known each other for three years. Since you’ve resolved your past ties, why not consider someone new?”

This bold declaration left her cheeks flushed by the time she finished.

Shan Zong turned around, his expression barely changing: “You know I’ve divorced. Who was the woman sitting here earlier?”

Zhao Fumei was somewhat taken aback: “Of course I know. Lady Changsun is Mountain Envoy’s ex-wife.”

If she were to pinpoint when this idea formed, it was likely when news of his ex-wife being in Youzhou spread through the military post.

But her determination solidified during the lantern release. From across the river, she had seen them clearly—standing together, occasionally exchanging soft whispers, sometimes close, sometimes distant.

“Knowing all that, why say anything?” Shan Zong suddenly laughed. She looked at him.

The fleeting smile disappeared, and his dark-clad figure exuded authority as he spoke bluntly: “That woman was the legitimate wife I formally married through three written documents and six rites. We divorced and parted ways. On what basis do you think I’d treat you differently?”

Zhao Fumei found herself at a loss for words.

Shan Zong turned and left the room.

As he mounted his horse, he recalled Shen Rong’s parting words.

She actually thought Zhao Fumei was his “experience.”

He smirked faintly. If we’re talking about experience, shouldn’t his ex-wife rightfully take precedence?