HMHSE - 75

Outside, Donglai and Zirui, with the guards, waited for a moment by the roadside before the guards, who had been obstructing their view, dispersed.

Then a soldier jogged over to deliver a message, instructing them to return to the official residence first.

Donglai understood, assuming that the Young Mistress would be personally escorted back by Commander Shan. So he called Zirui, and they both hurried to the official residence first.

No sooner had they left than Shan Zong and Shen Rong emerged together.

“Why did you come on horseback?” Shan Zong glanced at her horse.

Shen Rong held her veiled hat, resting it on the horse’s back. She glanced at him. “Youzhou must have been unsettled recently. I had already guessed. I originally thought that if I encountered any danger, I’d immediately turn back and leave, so of course, I’d ride a horse.”

Shan Zong’s lips curled at her nonchalant tone. “Is that so? Then you arrived earlier than expected.”

Shen Rong glanced at him again, refuting in a low voice, “That’s just because the road was smooth and I traveled fast.”

There was never a time when she wasn’t stubborn. Shan Zong smiled, gazing at her fair face, unable to imagine what she would look like when she yielded. He said casually, “It has been a bit unsettled recently, but it’s nothing major. It’s mostly resolved.”

Just as he was about to lead her away, a soldier ran from the direction of the main street to report that Prefect Zhao was waiting ahead.

Shan Zong looked at Shen Rong, then tilted his head towards the street. “Let’s go.”

Compared to the empty and vigilant state outside the city, Youzhou city itself was as usual, completely unchanged.

When Zhao Jinlian, as usual, rushed from the official residence to inspect the area below the city, he happened to encounter Zhao Fumei entering the city. Hearing that she had come with a noble lady from the Changsun family, he arranged to meet them at a wine shop on the street, sending someone to invite Shen Rong and Shan Zong together. It was a way to thank Shen Rong for looking after Zhao Fumei during her journey.

Zhao Fumei sat at a window-side table, her own bundle placed beside her. Looking out the window, she happened to see Shan Zong and Shen Rong arriving together.

He was still as before, his Hu-style attire neat and tidy, his arm guards and waist belt tightly fastened without a single flaw. Even walking casually on the main street, he exuded an air of freedom, yet no one dared to approach him.

The only one close to him was Shen Rong.

Zhao Fumei looked for a few more moments and realized that it was he who walked close to Shen Rong; their garment hems even brushed against each other several times.

As they entered the door, he subtly placed a hand on Shen Rong’s lower back. If one hadn’t been watching closely, this subtle gesture would have gone unnoticed.

“Fumei,” Zhao Jinlian, dressed in plain clothes, sat opposite her with a frown, asking in a low voice, “Why on earth did you return to Youzhou alone? Is it related to Commandant Zhou?”

Zhao Fumei hadn’t answered yet when Shen Rong was already in front of them, her gaze looking in their direction.

“The lady has arrived,” Zhao Jinlian said, smiling as he rose. “It’s quite a coincidence that we meet. I’ve arranged a welcome feast for you and Fumei here, and for Commander Chong to also get some good rest. He has been truly working hard recently.”

Shan Zong happened to walk closer, meeting Shen Rong’s gaze as she turned her head. He twitched his lips. “I didn’t tell him to say that.”

Shen Rong looked at his bruised jaw, thinking, Is this what he calls “nothing big”?

“Of course you didn’t tell me to say it; I’m speaking the truth,” Zhao Jinlian teased. He first invited Shen Rong to be seated, then looked at Shan Zong. “Since we both have some free time, I’ll arrange some defense matters with Commander Chong.”

Shan Zong’s gaze returned from Shen Rong. He nodded and walked out first.

Zhao Fumei, at the table, had already stood up and looked at the two of them. The obvious intimacy between them was impossible to miss.

Shen Rong watched Shan Zong leave and then sat down at the table.

Zhao Fumei followed suit. “I presume, my lady, that you and Commander Shan have reconciled.”

Shen Rong couldn’t help but glance at her.

She smiled. “I merely guessed.”

Shen Rong didn’t answer but instead asked, “What about you? Returning alone, did you have a disagreement with Commandant Zhou?”

She had heard Zhao Jinlian’s question just as she entered. Originally, this matter had not been brought up during their journey, simply because it was her private affair. Now, she brought it up directly, hoping to deflect questions about her own situation and shove the conversation back at her.

Zhao Fumei seemed to have been truly silenced. She paused before smiling again and nodded. “My husband and I have had some minor unpleasantness recently, nothing serious.”

Shen Rong had successfully parried her question and did not press further. However, she suddenly noticed one of Zhao Fumei’s hands resting on the edge of the table, with a bruise on the back of her hand. She couldn’t help but frown. “What, did he actually hit you?”

Zhao Fumei was startled. Following Shen Rong’s gaze to her own hand, she understood and quickly said, “No, my lady, you misunderstand. This is from when I fell while riding because I’m not good at it. My husband isn’t such a crude brute.”

Shen Rong, having been offended by Zhou Jun before, felt that his behavior was always passive-aggressive, as if everyone owed him something. If Zhao Fumei hadn’t explained, she would have truly believed that he was capable of such a thing in a fit of pique.

Seeing that Zhao Fumei didn’t seem to be lying, she said nothing. But then she heard Zhao Fumei say in a low voice, “It’s me who wronged him...”

Shen Rong’s gaze returned to her, and she suddenly understood a little. “Because of him?”

“Him” meant Shan Zong. It was an unspoken understanding between them.

Zhao Fumei seemed to want to speak, a smile even forming on her face, but in the end, she remained silent.

Ever since the last banquet at the Commandant’s mansion, where Zhou Jun had openly revealed the matter of her bidding farewell to Shan Zong before their marriage, there had been a rift between them.

She had later said that Shan Zong had saved her life.

But Zhou Jun merely sneered, “He saved your life, but is that all there is between you?”

Zhao Fumei was speechless. Shan Zong was his enemy, yet in his eyes, he had become the object of his wife’s affection. How could it be easily resolved? The gap was indeed difficult to bridge.

Shen Rong, seeing her expression, knew she was right. Her fingers idly stroked her own garment hem.

She had known about Zhao Fumei’s feelings for Shan Zong for a long time. She had never taken it seriously before, and even now, she didn’t think it was anything extraordinary. Yet, there was an indescribable emotion in her heart. She turned her head, her expression indifferent.

Shan Zong walked back into view, with Zhao Jinlian, who had just finished discussing official business with him, by his side.

Servants followed them in, and wine and dishes were successively brought in.

He walked over and sat at the adjacent table with Zhao Jinlian, looking towards her.

Zhao Fumei, who was nearby, looked up. Only now did she greet Shan Zong. “Commander Shan.”

Shan Zong merely nodded, looking at Shen Rong. Seeing her silent, he asked in a low voice, “What’s wrong?”

Shen Rong’s eyes flickered. “Nothing.”

________________________________________

At the official residence, a lot of preparations were underway.

Guangyuan saw Donglai and Zirui arrive again with the Changsun family’s guards and knew who had arrived. He led the servants, bustling about, exceptionally diligent.

After waiting for almost an hour, he finally heard hoofbeats outside the main gate.

Guangyuan stood in the corner of the courtyard, secretly poking his head out for a look. He saw the Lord and the noble lady enter the gate one after another, just as he had expected. Content, he deliberately didn’t disturb them and walked far away.

Shan Zong pushed open the door of the guest room. He had been staying here occasionally when guarding the city.

Shen Rong stood at the doorway. “Did you leave early just now?”

The welcome feast hosted by Zhao Jinlian ended quickly. Shan Zong didn’t stay long afterwards, finding an excuse to leave.

“You didn’t want to stay either, so why not leave?” He entered the room with a lazy smile, then turned back to look at her. “Something upset you?”

“What do I have to be upset about?” Shen Rong said indifferently.

“Then I’ll have to ask you, what are you upset about?” Shan Zong’s eyes fixed on her.

Shen Rong avoided his gaze, intending not to dwell on that emotion in her heart. She happened to glance at his room and subconsciously asked, “Have you been living here recently?”

Shan Zong grunted, a knowing smile on his face. “Otherwise, where should I be living?”

He only lived in the guest room; he hadn’t gone back to the main house. Asking that question was like reminding her of the mischief they had caused there.

Shen Rong immediately glared at him, raising a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She felt he was using this as an opportunity to be mischievous now. She lightly snorted, “You should live here.”

As she spoke, she suddenly noticed something on the table in the room and paused. “What’s that?”

Shan Zong looked over. It was a few packets of wound medicine that Guangyuan had placed there.

Shen Rong had already walked in, saw it clearly, and then looked at his face. “Are you injured?”

Shan Zong smiled indifferently. “It’s almost healed. Hu Shiyi, however, has been lying down for almost half a month.”

Shen Rong was skeptical. Her gaze swept over him from top to bottom, unable to discern where the injury was.

As she looked at him, Shan Zong moved closer.

Her eyes were clear and bright, her outer corners slightly upturned. As her gaze swept over him, it seemed to tug and pull.

“Young Mistress,” Donglai’s low voice suddenly came from outside. “A letter has arrived.”

Shen Rong had just sensed his approach when she heard the voice. She gently turned her eyes to look outside the door. Donglai wasn’t by the door, likely intentionally keeping his distance.

Shan Zong chuckled. “Go see.” Saying that, he turned and walked to the window, a smile still on his lips.

Shen Rong looked at his smile, thinking, To let him be so smug, I shouldn’t have cared if he was injured just now.

Walking out the door, Donglai was indeed standing by the side of the door, holding out a letter. “Just arrived. I heard it came by urgent dispatch.”

Shen Rong was somewhat serious upon hearing this. It might be from her father, regarding how to deal with Marquis Heluo. Fortunately, Hedong had already been de-restricted; otherwise, this letter would have been delayed.

She took the letter, told Donglai to retreat, and immediately opened it to read.

Inside the room, by the window, stood a wooden rack holding a copper basin filled with clear water.

Shan Zong finally had the leisure to take a small knife and clean his chin. He used a wet cloth to wipe his face and hands. As he took off his waist belt and arm guards, he walked to the table and looked towards the door.

Shen Rong had just folded the letter in her hand and was still at the doorway.

“A letter from the Duke of Zhao’s mansion?” he asked, somewhat nonchalantly pushing aside the wound medicine on the table. He understood clearly that if it weren’t for the Duke of Zhao’s helplessness, given his resolute refusal in Chang’an, he wouldn’t have let her come again.

Shen Rong glanced at him. “No, it’s from my second eldest cousin.”

Pei Shaoyong. Shan Zong’s lips twitched. “What does he want?”

Shen Rong inexplicably sensed his bad tone. She lowered her head, tucked the letter back into her sleeve, and said casually, “It’s nothing important.”

Actually, it wasn’t “nothing important.” Pei Shaoyong had written in the letter, guessing that she had arrived in Youzhou again, and insisted on meeting her.

She didn’t know what matter would require him to use an urgent dispatch. If it was truly urgent, he could have gone to her father. If it was a private matter, she had already intended to avoid it and would simply pretend it was nothing.

After thinking for a moment, she looked back into the room. Shan Zong stood by the table, busy with his hands, his face slightly lowered. He merely let out a low grunt and didn’t press the matter, seemingly not caring since she had said so.

Shen Rong looked at his hand. The sleeve of his Hu-style jacket on his right arm was rolled up twice, exposing a small section of his forearm. He had been unwrapping the cloth strip wrapped around his wrist as he spoke.

She slowly walked over, thinking that the injury must be there.

The cloth strip was removed, and Shan Zong wiped it again with a wet cloth. Near the back of his hand, there was a newly healed scar. Indeed, as he said, it was almost well.

On the exposed forearm above, a small section of a mottled, bruised tattoo was faintly visible.

He finished dealing with it, glanced at the approaching figure beside him, and pulled down his sleeve.

A hand reached out. Shen Rong lowered her head, her fingers hooked onto his sleeve, and she looked up at him. “What exactly is tattooed on this?”

Shan Zong stared at her. “Aren’t you afraid?”

“What do I have to be afraid of?” Not only was Shen Rong not afraid, she continued to pull up his sleeve.

Her fingertips, light as a feather, brushed against his arm, which was firm as if sculpted. Inch by inch, the sleeve moved up, and a large expanse of dark black coiled patterns crashed into her view.

The mottled area suddenly shifted. Her hand was seized, and Shan Zong pressed closer.

Shen Rong leaned back against the edge of the table, clutching his right arm, which was intertwined with bruises. Her breathing quickened. “I haven’t seen it clearly yet.”

“It’s a dragon,” he said, his voice low. He held her hand and pressed it onto his right arm, guiding her fingers upwards.

Shen Rong was pressed against the table by him. Her fingers touched his arm, which felt taut. As the sleeve could no longer go up, her hand was held by him, pressed against the bulging muscle near his shoulder. Her breathing quickened further. She looked at the coiling dark blue and black pattern, wanting to ask why it was a dragon, and he moved even closer.

“So brave, still want to see more?” He lowered his head, close to her face. As he spoke, the corners of his mouth were raised, his eyes fixed on her, and his head turned slightly.

Just like when he kissed her.

Shen Rong’s ears instantly buzzed. The arm she was touching felt warm. He was being mischievous; a bad seed was always a bad seed!

She bit her lip, then suddenly placed her other hand on him, slowly tracing his other shoulder through his Hu-style garment, and raised an eyebrow. “Are you deliberately trying to scare me?”

Shan Zong’s eyes immediately deepened. Almost at the same time, his lips descended.

Shen Rong, however, deliberately turned her head, allowing him to kiss her ear, and whispered, “I just don’t want to see anything at all.”

After saying that, she gently pulled away, deftly moving past him, and headed out the door.

After leaving the room, she even turned back and glanced at him again before leaving.

Shan Zong leaned one hand on the edge of the table, watching her go. He turned his head and couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

She had actually managed to tease him.

He glanced at his right arm. Her slightly cool touch seemed to still linger there. He slowly pulled down his sleeve, covering the tattoo.