HMHSE - 51

The conversation couldn’t continue because someone knocked on the door.

It was the barbarian maid who had attended to them last night, relaying a message from the counter: the esteemed guest’s attendants had arrived.

Only then did Shan Zong step back, getting out of bed. The hint of a smile still lingered on his face as he tied the sash of his dark, flowing brocade robe.

Shen Rong sat on the edge of the bed and glanced at him. “What attendants? Shouldn’t those outlaws have left?”

She just wanted to know where Donglai and the others were.

“Why don’t you go see for yourself?” Shan Zong said, then glanced at her outfit. “Change your clothes before coming out.”

Shen Rong couldn’t help but look at her clothes. There was nothing inherently wrong with them, but they were too attention-grabbing and too revealing.

________________________________________

At this moment, in the inn’s backyard, a group of people was waiting.

It was Donglai and a dozen elite soldiers assigned to protect Shen Rong. Following Shan Zong’s orders, they had rushed here to rendezvous early this morning, all having changed their appearance and dressed in ordinary barbarian clothes, looking like ordinary attendants of a wealthy family.

After waiting for about three kes (approximately 45 minutes), they finally saw Shan Zong approaching from the guest room.

Donglai looked up and was momentarily startled by his appearance. Having grown accustomed to his fierce barbarian attire, seeing him now in brocade robes reminded him of how he looked when he and the young mistress had just gotten married. He had originally intended to ask about the young mistress’s situation but paused.

Immediately after, he saw Shen Rong. She was following closely behind Shan Zong, and they both looked as if they had just emerged from the same guest room.

Donglai immediately hurried two steps forward and knelt before her. “Young mistress, it is my fault for failing to protect you.”

Shen Rong had changed into a barbarian robe and her hair was simply tied into a bun, all arranged for her by the inn’s maid. Seeing him at last, she felt relieved: “Are you all right?”

Donglai lowered his head: “We are fine. We were only worried about the young mistress.”

Shen Rong had no desire to revisit what had happened. She said calmly, “It was nothing; my luck was quite good. What happened to you all later?”

Donglai glanced at Shan Zong, remembering the grim expression on his face when he arrived at the foot of that mountain ridge that day.

His dozen or so soldiers were actually skilled fighters, but at the time, they were cautious about the young mistress’s identity and dared not embrace or rescue her arbitrarily. Even a slight delay led to them being swept away by the current.

However, Shan Zong didn’t care about reasons, only results. These soldiers would likely face military punishment upon their return.

Donglai did not state these directly: “Nothing much. We split up to find the young mistress and carried out our orders. Everything went smoothly.”

Shen Rong nodded, not paying much attention. Suddenly, she noticed how quiet the backyard was. She glanced at Shan Zong and whispered, “I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while. You came in a hurry, where did you get so much money to conduct your affairs?”

He had bought her and Du Xinnu at the pleasure house, then stayed in the inn’s finest room. It was so quiet here, as if he had rented the whole place. All the expenses were those of an esteemed guest, certainly not a small sum.

Shan Zong looked at her. “You’ll know soon.” Then he glanced at the soldiers, “Bring the people out.”

Donglai stood up.

Several soldiers went to the back, to a woodshed, and dragged out several bound individuals, pushing and throwing them before him. A muffled mumble ensued, as all their mouths were gagged.

Shen Rong’s eyes turned cold the moment she saw them. The first one thrown over was the woman who had tricked her that day, that hateful procuress.

The woman saw her and immediately kowtowed repeatedly, mumbling unclear barbarian words, begging for mercy. Then she turned to Shan Zong and continued to kowtow.

Shen Rong instantly understood: “So you’re using her money.”

Shan Zong gave a faint smile: “She profited a lot from selling you. All her dirty money naturally came pouring out. Not a single copper coin was truly hers.”

She coldly watched the woman. No wonder. He was using evil to suppress evil.

Shan Zong asked her, “Do you want to get even?”

Shen Rong turned her head in surprise. “You want to let me get even?”

He nodded: “Otherwise, why would I tie them up?”

Shen Rong felt much more relieved, even smiling slightly: “How should I get even?”

Shan Zong looked down at the several people: “We can’t shed blood on someone else’s territory, but we can make sure they can never commit evil again.”

His tone was chilling, just like when he suppressed the thugs in those large prisons. Shen Rong then understood why the outlaws from the underworld last night feared him so much.

Half an hour later, in the deserted woodshed of this backyard, the faces of these individuals were branded with local penal marks. They were then dragged out of the backyard by several soldiers and handed over to the group of outlaws who had left last night.

In the underworld, there were naturally plenty of ways to ensure they could no longer commit evil.

Shan Zong and Shen Rong had already returned to their room, preparing to set off.

Only then did Shen Rong completely cast aside the unpleasant feelings in her heart. She looked at Shan Zong, who was sitting by the table, wrapping his sword in cloth to conceal it, and asked softly, “Don’t you usually not leave Youzhou?”

Shan Zong’s hands were still busy. He lifted his eyes, his expression seemingly a bit grim: “That’s right. So, the one who came out is merely a wealthy merchant from the Central Plains named Chong.”

She savored the meaning of his words: “No wonder those people called you ‘Brother Chong’ last night.”

The words “Brother Chong” coming from her lips gave Shan Zong a strange feeling. He glanced at her, secretly twitched the corner of his mouth, and then, after wrapping his sword, tucked it into his large cloak, stood up: “Let’s go.”

On the narrow street outside the inn, traffic only appeared during the day, consisting entirely of passing merchant caravans.

The barbarian counter attendant, having received his money, was extremely enthusiastic. Now, seeing them depart, he bowed at the doorway, seeing them off: “Esteemed guest, rest assured, horses, carriages, and dry rations are all prepared.”

As he said, a light carriage was parked at the door. Donglai sat on the carriage, and the soldiers who had followed him also mounted their horses.

Shen Rong looked them over, then boarded the carriage, pulling aside the curtain to look out at Shan Zong.

He stood outside the carriage, took a few gold coins from the sleeve of his brocade robe, and tossed them to the counter attendant, who immediately bowed and thanked him profusely: “Thank you, esteemed guest, thank you, esteemed guest. May the esteemed guest and his wife have a safe journey.”

“Mm,” he said, lifting his robe with one hand and boarding the carriage.

Shen Rong couldn’t help but make a bit of room for him, staring at him. “What did he call me?”

The carriage was small. Shan Zong placed his wrapped sword at his feet, bent his long legs, and his voice, when lowered, became surprisingly deep: “You need an identity when traveling outside. I am a wealthy merchant from the Central Plains named Chong. You are my wife who was unfortunately separated from me while we were traveling outside the pass, abducted and sold into a pleasure house by evil people, and now I have redeemed you.”

Shen Rong had guessed as much. She turned slightly, pressing against him, and stammered, “Who’s your wife?”

Shan Zong glanced at her profile, smiling self-deprecatingly. Indeed, at most, she was his ex-wife.

Outside, Donglai had already driven the carriage onto the road.

This route was deliberately chosen to follow a merchant caravan, not heading towards the pass, a decision Shan Zong had made earlier.

He had not explained the reason when he gave the order, so Donglai could only comply.

Most people outside the pass raised horses and sheep, and towns were extremely rare.

When the vast world turned dark, it was like a black curtain covering the wild plains, leaving only scattered starlight overhead.

Under a leeward slope, after dark, several small, round tents were set up. A group of Central Plains merchants were gathered around a bonfire, eating and drinking, when another group of about ten people arrived.

The arriving group stopped. A lean and capable young man dismounted from their carriage and approached, asking if they could share the encampment, needing only to borrow a few small tents, and offering payment.

Since they were all merchants and all from the Central Plains, it was easily agreed upon by the several people.

The young man returned and reported to the carriage. A tall, slender man then stepped out of the carriage, followed by a young woman in barbarian clothes, whose beauty was captivating even in profile.

Everyone watched, illuminated by the firelight.

The bonfire light reached the side of the carriage. Shan Zong placed a hand on Shen Rong’s lower back: “Go over.”

She naturally stepped forward with the slight push of his palm, walking towards the Central Plains people seated there.

The several Central Plains individuals there had already stood up, cupping their hands in greeting to Shan Zong, inviting him to sit down and make friends. They also called their female companions to entertain Shen Rong.

Shan Zong removed his hand from her lower back and went to sit down.

Shen Rong was invited by a young woman to sit by a bonfire near them. She accepted the hot soup they offered and looked around. They were all female relatives, covered in dust from the wind outside the pass, showing how arduous the journey had been.

The men, after all, quickly became familiar. Soon, conversations began with Shan Zong, and some were already calling him “Brother Chong.”

Shen Rong glanced over there. Shan Zong sat with one knee up, holding a bowl of soup. He had just lowered his head and finished a sip. His thin lips curved in a smile. A faint pattern on the cuff of his brocade robe was illuminated by the firelight, hinting at an underlying nobility.

Without the sharp, straight sword, having shed his barbarian clothes and boots, he was not in Youzhou at this moment. His unintentional gestures revealed a trace of aristocratic upbringing.

But their laughter soon brought her back to reality. She lowered her head and drank her soup.

A plump Central Plains merchant, clearly seeing Shen Rong’s appearance, suddenly asked Shan Zong, “May I ask your esteemed wife’s name? I am from Chang’an, and I have seen many wealthy families and prominent figures in the capital. She looks somewhat familiar.”

Shen Rong held her bowl, only able to pretend she didn’t hear.

Shan Zong glanced at her, his dark eyes reflecting the firelight. He suddenly smiled: “My wife’s surname is Jin, and her given name is Jiaojiao.”

She frowned and looked at him.

The Central Plains merchant, hearing he hadn’t heard that name before, chuckled awkwardly: “Then it seems she only looks familiar.”

After the meal, the conversation ended.

Everyone needed to travel, so they went to bed early. They all washed up in the nearby small river and returned to their tents to rest.

When Shen Rong lay down in a small, round tent, the bonfire had already died out.

Not long after, the tent flap was lifted, and a man’s figure, stooping, entered. He tied the tent flap with one hand and took off his outer robe with the other.

With a soft rustle, the outer robe fell onto the felt mat spread on the ground, landing on her legs.

She didn’t move. The man’s scent wafted over her. He had already lain down and pulled up the barbarian blanket.

Shen Rong lay with her eyes open, his profile as he lay on his back visible in her vision. Last night, she had fallen asleep without knowing it. Only now did she feel the sensation of sharing a bed with him.

She quietly turned over, facing away from him. Otherwise, just looking at his shoulders and waist would make her recall that dream again.

The felt blanket was too small, and he was tall with long legs. Her movement was like she was rubbing against him as she turned over.

Suddenly, a warm breath brushed against the back of her neck. Shan Zong had turned onto his side towards her. “You’re still awake.”

Her heart stirred. She suddenly remembered that his eyesight was very good; he must have noticed she was awake earlier. She simply spoke: “Who did you say was named Jiaojiao just now?”

Shan Zong had indeed carefully looked at her when he entered the tent. He chuckled softly, his chest vibrating, pressed against her back: “I just said it randomly.”

It was a good name chosen by Hu Shi-yi. He used it when he thought of it. She probably heard it clearly for the first time.

The surroundings were quiet. Besides the gradually clearer snores and sleep-talking, only their uneven breathing remained in the tent.

Lying on the ground in spring was still cold. Even with a felt blanket, it was unbearable.

Shen Rong unconsciously curled up.

A hand suddenly rested on her, pulling her close, holding her firmly in his embrace.

It was Shan Zong’s hand. His palm covered her ear, and he leaned in, whispering lowly, “Do you know why felt blankets for camping are always so small?”

She unconsciously asked, “Why?”

“It’s meant for sleeping like this, otherwise it’s cold,” he said, his warm breath blowing on the back of her neck.

Shen Rong was held firmly by him, unmoving. She thought, he is indeed warm.

What Shan Zong said wasn’t entirely false; merchants were stingy, giving small felt blankets. But once he truly held her, the feeling in the darkness was much more profound.

Last night, she had been asleep by his side and hadn’t felt anything. Tonight, she was wide awake beside him, her soft body completely in his embrace, and it seemed to have a different meaning.

His body slowly tensed. Pressed against her, he felt her body seemed even softer, like water. He didn’t move much, and couldn’t move much; this tiny tent couldn’t conceal any movement at all.

They had never shared a bed after getting married, yet now they were outside the pass, acting as husband and wife in the eyes of others.

In the dim light, he stared at her hair, then recalled her words in the carriage, “Who’s your wife?” He silently twisted his lips.

He had never imagined such a day would come.