Instead of becoming bandits, they ended up as common folk.
Zhang Baotang was stunned for a moment, while Sifeng burst into laughter.
"What do you mean, bro?" Zhang Baotang asked, feeling somewhat confused.
"It means that she was captured by bandits, but then she managed to persuade them. When the government soldiers came to her rescue, she told them these bandits weren't bandits but mountain villagers who saved her," Sifeng explained with a laugh.
Zhang Baotang felt that this was like a tongue twister. It took him a moment to understand what had happened, and his expression once again filled with surprise.
"Miss Jun is amazing. How did she manage to do that?" he said, with a hint of excitement, "Perhaps she cured the bandit leader's illness?"
Zhu Zan straightened up after putting away his father's letter.
"Who cares," he said.
"Then there's no need to worry about Miss Jun for the time being. She has these good people protecting her," Sifeng said with a smile.
"There was no need to worry from the start," Zhu Zan replied, "Just let her continue to plague those good people over there."
Having said this, he burst into laughter.
Zhang Baotang immediately laughed happily as well.
"Brother, it's been a long time since I've seen you laugh so merrily," he said. "Miss Jun is indeed impressive."
It wasn't because of her that I laughed, Zhu Zan immediately put on a stern face.
"I'm laughing because of the letter my father wrote," he said, then cracked a smile again, "These guys actually spoke well of my father."
It was indeed funny, Zhang Baotang laughed along once more.
Regardless, it was quite amusing, and these past days, at last, there was some cheerful news to hear.
"Since Miss Jun is also on the western route of Hebei, why not just let her meet my uncle," he said with a sudden inspiration.
"Why should she meet my father!" Zhu Zan glared as he spoke.
Sifeng nodded on the side.
"It's a bit too early," he said seriously.
Zhang Baotang didn't catch on, but Zhu Zan had already lifted his arm to jab at Sifeng, who laughed and avoided it.
"I mean that my uncle can surely take good care of Miss Jun so that the Jinyiwei won't touch her. Going to my uncle's would be even safer," Zhang Baotang seriously explained, catching up to the playful duo ahead.
"Why should he?" Zhu Zan snorted, "My father doesn't owe her money."
This time, Zhang Baotang realized what was said and was taken aback.
"So the reason you care so much about Miss Jun is because you owe her money," he said.
Sifeng burst out laughing and slapped his thigh, while Zhu Zan spat indignantly.
"Are you blind? Which eye saw me caring about her?" he retorted with a glare, waving dismissively, "Scram, scram, scram."
With that, he strode toward the stable.
Sifeng, still laughing heartily, followed, while Zhang Baotang stood still and rubbed his head.
"Which eye saw?" he mused to himself, "Both eyes saw, that's which."
.............
Compared to the liveliness of the horse field, the quiet gloom in Huang Cheng's study was starkly cold, even though four people stood inside.
Huang Cheng sat in front of the desk, looking at the letter that lay on it. The corners of his eyes and mouth drooped heavily, making him look older and more somber.
There was silence in the room, as if even breathing had stopped.
Suddenly, Huang Cheng shouted violently and flung the desk over in front of him.
The room echoed with the sounds of disarray.
The people standing around jolted to life, their gazes fixated on Huang Cheng.
For an elderly man with compromised mobility, overturning a desk was a feat that required much effort.
Gasping for breath, Huang Cheng swayed as if he was about to collapse, but the people around him surged forward.
"Master," they called out, their voices filled with tension and anxiety.
Huang Cheng didn't fall. Supported by the people around him, he extended his hand toward the upturned desk and the scattered mess on the floor.
"Do they think they can bully me because I'm old?" he shouted hoarsely, "Do they think my Huang Family is destined to end without a successor?"
"Master, please don't be angry."
"Master, let's think this through carefully."
"Master, let's reassess the situation."
"Perhaps the Duke of Chengguo bribed them." The men supporting him suggested one after another.
A cold laugh escaped from Huang Cheng.
"Bribery, it's one thing to talk about bribery at other times," he said, "but this time it was the Jinyiwei who personally took action. To His Majesty, there is no one who can bribe the Jinyiwei."
A silence fell over the people around.
"It's all because of the trouble caused by the Jurchen people." A man sighed, "We have lived peacefully for too long and have truly become afraid."
"Indeed, even His Majesty is afraid that the Jurchen people will reach the capital again," another man added, "Now we cannot do without the Duke of Chengguo."
Huang Cheng's expression grew darker.
"Without him, Zhu Shan, would the great Zhou fall?" he said, "Without Butcher Zhu, would people not be able to eat pork?"
The people present glanced at each other.
"There are plenty of good generals in the world," one man nodded, "but here in the northern lands, Zhu Shan overshadows everyone, and other generals are suppressed, finding it hard to emerge."
"Indeed, we've sent so many people over, and they've all been suppressed by Zhu Shan's men," another man said angrily, "It's really infuriating."
"We finally had a chance to teach Zhu Shan a lesson this time, but in the end…" everyone spoke one after another, their eyes drifting to the scattered letters on the ground, "so many words of flattery, and at such a time..."
It seemed that Zhu Shan would once again escape unscathed.
Nobody said these words out loud, but everyone knew it clearly in their hearts.
Huang Cheng knew it even better as he stood there panting heavily like a bellows, his complexion growing uglier by the second.
Suddenly pushing away the men who were supporting him, he limped forward a few steps, then stood on a scattered letter on the ground and forcefully crushed it with his foot.
"I am not dead yet," he said fiercely, "I am not dead yet."
...
Dusk fell, casting the towering silhouette of Zhangqing Mountain over the entire village.
"Miss."
Liu'er's call came from down the mountain, and Miss Jun, who was in the courtyard putting away her handwritten notes, turned to see the busy woman in the kitchen.
"Aunt Xiao, I'm leaving," she said, as if bidding farewell like a visiting guest, without a hint of embarrassment or disappointment from standing idly by all day long.
The woman turned, smiled at her.
"Have a safe trip, Miss Jun," she said, without a hint of irritation or annoyance at being pestered, nor did she caution not to come again, as if nothing had happened and nothing mattered.
Miss Jun bowed and walked away, with Liu'er already taking over and glancing back at the woman with a touch of displeasure, but she wouldn't object to whatever made her mistress happy.
"Miss, are you tired?" Liu'er asked considerately as she supported Miss Jun, "You should've done as I suggested and brought a stool to sit on; sitting is the same as standing."
Miss Jun smiled.
"How can sitting and standing be the same?" she said, "Otherwise, there would only be Standing in the Snow at Cheng's Gate, no one has ever heard of Sitting in the Snow at Cheng's Gate."
Liu'er's eyes rolled playfully.
"But I think sitting in the snow seems even more impressive," she said, touching her bottom and shrinking back as if cold, "So cold, so cold."
Miss Jun laughed heartily.
"Yes, sitting in the snow is indeed more impressive," she said, "but the essence of Standing in the Snow is not to show off impressiveness, but to show respect. Too much impressiveness turns into coercion."
She sighed softly as she spoke, realizing that though she hadn't wept or begged verbally, just by standing there every day in front of her teacher's wife, she was already a form of coercion.
She patted Liu'er's head.
"Liu'er is right, sitting is the same as standing," she nodded.
Really? Was she right? Liu'er felt puzzled, but being praised by her mistress was always good, so she laughed with a hint of pride and walked briskly while supporting Miss Jun.
Although there was no evidence now, everyone here, as well as herself, was certain that Zhang Qingshan was Zhao Zhiyi, and this Aunt Xiao and the girl were his wife and daughter.
She wondered what had happened in the past to make Aunt Xiao so bitter and resentful.
No matter what had happened, for a man to abandon his wife for more than a decade, resentment was natural.
Miss Jun sighed. As the saying goes, the son pays for the father's debts. These people's resentment could be borne and resolved by her on behalf of her teacher.
Only, how should she do it, what should she do to dispel it?
*******************************************
Thanks to the palace master a from the Guanhan Palace, ?The Last Shot?, Southern Ice for rewarding He's Bi (>^ω^
Thank you, everyone, it's the weekend!! Have fun!
Also, continuing to ask for votes haha.