HMHSE - 65

In the official residence in Hedong, at the Shan family’s military encampment.

Outside the guest room, Pei Shaoyong had just personally handed a written policy paper to the Pei family’s guards, instructing them to deliver it quickly to Chang’an, lest it miss the Saint’s selection.

Changsun Xin was sitting in his room, holding a teacup and sighing, “So, Second Cousin has been cooped up in his room these past few days, busy with this. He’s truly more eager and meticulous than I thought.”

Since Shen Rong’s return to Youzhou, he hadn’t seen much of Pei Shaoyong. Today, when Changsun Xin came to find him, he learned that he was occupied with this important matter.

Pei Shaoyong turned around and entered the room. “If I’m not quick enough, I’m afraid I’ll miss the opportunity.”

Changsun Xin was about to lower his head to drink tea but paused. “What opportunity?”

“Nothing, just something I said casually.”

“You, Pei, you’re always keeping me in suspense lately.”

Pei Shaoyong sat down beside him, smiling somewhat shyly. “Cousin, don’t joke around. We’ll talk about it another day; you’ll know eventually. It’s not the time yet. By the way, when is A-Rong coming back?”

As soon as he asked this, Changsun Xin’s face clouded with worry again. He wondered how Shen Rong and that fellow surnamed Shan were doing now. The more he thought about it, the more unsettled he felt, even regretting having agreed to her request then.

But what could he do? She was his little ancestor, whom he had pampered since childhood. Moreover, Shen Rong had never been one to be manipulated by others.

He calculated the days, then lightly coughed. “Soon, she’ll be back soon.”

In the courtyard, Shan Ying, dressed in armor, came out to meet Shan Zhao, who was returning from his shift, preparing to guard the city as usual.

Shan Zhao glanced towards the guest room and whispered, “They’ve been very anxious during their stay here these past few days. I wonder if sister-in-law’s return to Youzhou this time means she’ll come back with Big Brother.”

Shan Ying nodded. “I hope so too. If eldest cousin could return to Luoyang, the Shan family wouldn’t be as it is today.”

Although the Shan family army was currently garrisoned in an important town in Hedong, compared to before, they had restrained much of their sharpness.

Her uncle no longer concerned himself with worldly affairs. The Shan family was solely supported by her aunt. Although there was Shan Zhao, he was still young and hadn’t yet achieved military success; it would take time for him to mature.

Shan Zhao also had two elder half-brothers, both already married and enlisted, who naturally harbored thoughts about inheriting the Shan family’s power.

If Shan Zong were still here, they wouldn’t even dare to have such ideas.

Shan Ying, being forthright, thought for a moment and showed no sadness. “Never mind, you and I should just do our own jobs. We still don’t know what happened between those two. Unless they’ve reconciled and plan to annul the divorce, there’s no other possibility.”

Shan Zhao’s phoenix eyes, naturally delicate, widened slightly and sparkled. “Can the Changsun family agree to that?”

As they spoke, Changsun Xin came from Pei Shaoyong’s quarters, passing through the courtyard gate.

Shan Ying glanced at him, then raised her hand and deliberately called out, “Xingli, Changsun Xingli!”

Changsun Xin heard the call, turned to look, and immediately straightened his face. He smoothed his collar, assuming a gentlemanly posture. “What is it?”

Shan Ying said, “Tonight, I’ve prepared food and wine to invite you. Would you honor me with your presence?”

“Offering courtesy for no reason...” Changsun Xin mumbled, then raised his voice, “No time.”

Shan Ying glanced at Shan Zhao. “Just looking at him, he won’t agree.”

________________________________________

Inside Youzhou city, Zhao Jinlian, having been instructed by Changsun Xin before his departure, was lately concerned about the situation in the mountains.

Upon learning that Shan Zong was personally guarding the mountains, he felt much more at ease. However, he then heard the news of the Changsun Lady’s departure and return. Today, he specifically made time to visit the official residence.

Guangyuan greeted him at the main gate, reporting with cupped hands, “The Young Master and the noble lady have gone into the mountains. They went yesterday and today, and have been together all along.”

Zhao Jinlian was surprised. “Oh? Is that so?”

Guangyuan’s eyes were full of smiles. “Yes.”

Zhao Jinlian was about to ask more questions when he saw a group of people riding horses down the street.

Leading them were Shan Zong and Shen Rong, followed by Donglai and several soldiers from the military compound.

Shan Zong sat on his black horse, clad in dark clothes, his saber resting across the horse’s back, a commanding presence. Yet, his face was turned towards Shen Rong, who was slowly riding beside him.

Her horse veered slightly, and he reached out to pull her reins, drawing her closer to his side. A smile played on his lips, and his gaze was unusually soft, seemingly revealing a hint of tenderness.

As the two approached, Zhao Jinlian, as if to deliberately remind them, first smiled and called out, “Chongjun.”

Shan Zong had already seen him. He only released Shen Rong’s horse’s reins at the gate and dismounted. “The mountains are currently stable; you can rest assured.”

Zhao Jinlian stroked his short beard and nodded, smiling as he looked at Shen Rong. “Lady, you must be tired.”

Shen Rong dismounted and smiled. “Not at all. When I leave, I’ll have to ask the Prefect to look after this place more.”

“That is only right,” Zhao Jinlian replied with a smile. “That’s why I came.”

Shan Zong handed his saber to Guangyuan. Hearing her mention leaving, he turned to glance at her.

Shen Rong looked at him, but he said nothing, only tilted his head towards the official residence. “You must be tired from staying in the mountains. Go inside and rest first.”

“I’m not that weak,” Shen Rong’s lips moved slightly.

Shan Zong couldn’t help but smile; only he heard it.

Shen Rong naturally knew they had things to discuss. She nodded slightly to Zhao Jinlian and, taking Donglai with her, entered the gate.

Zhao Jinlian watched her go inside, then walked to Shan Zong’s side, entering the gate with him.

“Chongjun, I see you’re quite different with Lady Changsun now.”

Shan Zong stepped inside, brushing the dust from the mountains off his clothes as he walked.

Zhao Jinlian, as a fellow chief official of Youzhou and considerably older than him, sometimes spoke like an experienced elder brother. In front of him, there was no need for Shan Zong to conceal anything.

“Yes, I’ve already proposed marriage to her.”

Zhao Jinlian’s face was filled with disbelief. Last time, when Shan Zong suddenly disappeared outside the pass and then returned with Shen Rong, he felt something was amiss, but he didn’t feel it was appropriate to meddle in his private affairs.

Now he knew that a man’s judgment of another man was truly accurate. Shan Chongjun had never acted this way towards any other woman, at least not in all these years in Youzhou. He had even proposed marriage without a hint of it leaking out.

“Who was it that said he had peculiar tastes?”

Shan Zong raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, finding it amusing himself. “Me, yes, aren’t they still peculiar?”

If not peculiar, how could it be Changsun Shen Rong?

Zhao Jinlian laughed speechlessly. Indeed, only he could maintain such a wild and untamed demeanor.

“Then it seems you’ll soon be returning to the Shan family in Luoyang. Since you intend to rekindle your past relationship, and the past is nullified, there’ll naturally be no need to leave home again. This truly makes you a good match, after all, Lady Changsun is the daughter of the Duke of Zhao and so dearly beloved.”

The smile remained on Shan Zong’s face, but his gaze slightly hardened.

From the corner of his eye, only Guangyuan followed them at a respectful distance, listening for instructions. At this, Guangyuan glanced at him repeatedly, his face filled with hope.

________________________________________

Shen Rong surveyed the room. Zirui had already packed her luggage and placed it on the table.

It was only a few pieces of clothing; she hadn’t brought much when she came. Since she was leaving so soon, there wasn’t much to pack anyway.

“Young mistress, is it time for dinner?” Zirui asked from the doorway.

Shen Rong rose and went out, entering the side hall. As soon as she sat down at the table, a shadow fell over her, and she saw a man’s long, straight legs in riding boots before her. She looked up at him.

Shan Zong sat down beside her, taking a wet cloth from the tray on the table to wipe his hands.

She thought for a moment and asked, “Has Governor Zhao left?”

“Mm.”

“What did he say to you?”

Shan Zong put the cloth back and looked at her. “Just matters of state.”

After saying that, he remembered Zhao Jinlian’s words and looked at her again.

He hadn’t told Zhao Jinlian just now that he had actually proposed marriage to her in his capacity as the Youzhou militia commander.

Shen Rong eyed him. “What are you looking at?”

He smiled, pointed at the dishes on the table, and asked, “Should I have prepared a more lavish meal for you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are you seeing me off?”

Shan Zong smiled and nodded. “Mm.”

It seemed to carry a lighter, more carefree meaning, as if leaving wasn’t such a big deal after all.

Shen Rong glanced at the table, picked up her chopsticks, and said softly, “I think it’s quite lavish already; it’s fine.”

Shan Zong smiled again. He had intended to be lighthearted, but now that he had said it, he truly felt as if he were seeing her off. The smile was only on his face; there was not a trace of it in his eyes.

Time always passed quickly. By the time they finished dinner, it was already late.

When Shen Rong returned to her room, she walked onto the corridor and looked back. Shan Zong had followed her out of the side hall and was watching her.

She thought for a moment but said nothing, then turned and went to the main room.

Zirui had already brought water and was waiting in the room. After serving her with washing, she dimmed the lamp wick a bit and curtsied before exiting the room. “Young mistress, please rest early; you have to travel tomorrow morning.”

“Understood.” It was as if everything around her was reminding her that it was time to leave.

Shen Rong walked to the door to bolt it. As she stood there, she thought that perhaps she should have said a few words of farewell to him earlier.

Her thoughts were still unfinished when the door suddenly pushed open before her. The man’s tall figure slipped inside, and the door closed behind him.

She looked at him in astonishment, yet deep down, she was not surprised. Only he would be so arrogant time and again.

Under the dim lamplight, Shan Zong leaned against the door, staring at her, his thin lips slightly curved. “I thought and thought, and decided that time is precious, so I should come over.”

Shen Rong’s gaze flickered. “Come over for what?”

His eyes changed, becoming dark and deep. He reached out a hand, hooked her waist, and lowered his head.

Shen Rong didn’t know how she ended up retreating step by step to the couch. He held her and sat down, his lips still pressed against hers.

Shan Zong became increasingly patient when kissing her, pecking her delicately, again and again. He also held the back of her neck with one hand, forcefully prying open her jaw.

It wasn’t until Shen Rong’s tongue was fiercely enveloped by his mouth, her breathing becoming chaotic, that he suddenly stopped.

“Can you come again?” he asked softly.

Shen Rong panted, “I don’t know. Even if I can, the Saint has ordered that people from Chang’an are temporarily not allowed into the Hedong area, for at least several months, possibly half a year.”

Shan Zong pressed his lips together, looking at her slightly breathless form in the lamplight. His hand on her waist suddenly tightened, holding her waist as he lifted her, making her sit on his lap.

Shen Rong was completely pressed against his embrace, her lips facing his high nose.

“That’s quite a long time,” he finally said, a languid expression on his face, showing no particular emotion.

They were too close. She had tried her best to calm down, but her breathing was still rapid. His legs were firm and strong. As she sat, she unconsciously shifted her body.

His grip on her waist suddenly tightened further. Shan Zong exerted force, his eyes fixed on her.

Shen Rong felt his jaw tighten and, for no reason, panicked slightly. Only her eyes moved; no change was visible on her face.

Shan Zong suddenly chuckled softly. His hand around her waist slowly moved, and he leaned back slightly, his eyes fixed on her. He had already seen through her. “Don’t panic. I’ve never been a gentleman, and I’m used to being unrestrained, but I don’t want you to think my proposal lacks sincerity. I can endure, even though I very much want to make up for what I’ve lost.”

Shen Rong only felt her waist growing warm. Hearing his last words, deep and explicit, her heart pounded. Looking at his face, she couldn’t help but whisper, “You scoundrel...”

The playful look on Shan Zong’s face vanished. He pressed against her, his face close, his voice deep and hoarse. “I’ve only just begun to be wicked to you.”

Shen Rong was suddenly embraced tightly by him, her heartbeat quickening unconsciously. His hand moved on her lower back, her collar was tugged, and her outer garment slipped from her shoulders.

His face was against hers, lowering, his breath caressing her lips, her neck, downward, until it reached her chest.

Shen Rong suddenly clutched his shoulders, her eyes wide, her chest pounding.

Her clothes rustled faintly, brushing against her calves—it was his other hand.

She felt somewhat bewildered and helpless, her throat dry. Her outer garment lay loosely, yet she didn’t feel cold. She could only tightly press her lips together.

A strange and unfamiliar numbness, in her chest, between her legs, then spreading throughout her body.

If she only lowered her eyes, she could see the top of his dark head, his hair neatly tied, seeming to ignite a fire in her embrace.

It was as if he held a rope in his hand, about to lift her whole body up.

It wasn’t until Shen Rong was completely flustered by him that he lifted his face and took her hand.

That hand had clutched his shoulder too tightly, wrinkling the fabric there.

Shen Rong was completely leaning against him, breathing in and out. One hand fumbled to cover her chest, then to cover the hem of her clothes.

Shan Zong took her hand and pressed it into his embrace, looking at her flushed face, also breathing heavily. “Is this wicked enough?”

Shen Rong remained silent.

He chuckled softly, released her, and let her sit on the couch. He then rose and left.

Shen Rong gripped the edge of the couch, her other hand still covering her chest, and lightly moved her legs. It was hard to describe what she had felt earlier; she had never known a man could be so wicked with just his mouth and hands.

She moved her legs again, slowly exhaling, feeling a pervasive, unpleasant dampness, all left by him.

There was no sound outside. Zirui and Donglai had disappeared at some point.

When Shan Zong opened the door and returned, Shen Rong had already washed herself again and was lying in bed, a faint flush still on her neck.

He embraced her from behind, his Hu-style clothing already removed. His chest, clad only in inner garments, was slightly cool. Water droplets from washing clung to his hands as he whispered by her ear, “You can go back in peace. I will come to Chang’an.”

Shen Rong, held by him, felt her heart, which had just calmed, begin to race again. She only came back to her senses when she heard his words. “You’re coming?”

He chuckled deeply. “Mm, there will always be a way.”