The Duke of Chengguo had made a decision regarding the return to the capital but said he would wait for Madam Yu to arrive before discussing it further. Miss Jun said no more.
Seeing Zhu Zan's heavy expression, Miss Jun took the initiative to excuse herself.
Returning to the capital was a dangerous endeavor. The father and son had much to discuss and deliberate upon.
Miss Jun returned to her residence to find Zhao Hanqing sitting at the table, obediently drinking her medicine from a bowl. Seeing Miss Jun entering, Zhao Hanqing called, "Sis."
Miss Jun sat beside her, watching her drink the medicine.
During the time spent fending off Jin thieves and killing enemies in Hejian and Bazhou, treatment for Zhao Hanqing's facial wounds had not paused.
The medicine was bitter, and despite drinking it for so long, Zhao Hanqing still hadn't grown accustomed to it. She scrunched her face with each sip and grabbed a preserved fruit to eat.
She drank one sip, grimaced, ate something sweet, and then repeated the process.
Watching her, Miss Jun briefly lost herself in thought.
The Duke of Chengguo was returning to the capital.
She had once longed for this.
When she learned her father had died an unjust death, she had been consumed by anger at the world's ignorance of the truth, yet she hoped someone would question the circumstances of his death.
During the moment she stormed into the imperial palace, intent on killing the emperor and meeting her own death, she had prayed that someone would come to her aid.
"Sis."
Zhao Hanqing's voice sounded in her ear, accompanied by a hand waving in front of her.
Miss Jun snapped out of her daze.
"Finished drinking?" she asked.
Zhao Hanqing nodded.
"What were you thinking about?" she asked out of curiosity.
"Just reminiscing about some past things," Miss Jun replied with a faint smile.
Zhao Hanqing responded with an "Oh" and nodded.
"No wonder you seemed so sad," she remarked, nodding again and refraining from asking further about the past. "Whenever Uncle Xia or Uncle Yang think of the past, they act like this too."
Miss Jun felt a mix of amusement and heartache, but Zhao Hanqing's words served as a reminder.
"I'll go check on Uncle Yang and the others," she said. "Would you like to come with me?"
Although the army was camped outside the city, the Qingshan Army had already been detached, accompanying Miss Jun and serving as her guard and house servants within Dingzhou City. They had been arranged to stay in the soldiers' quarters of the government office.
When Miss Jun and Zhao Hanqing arrived, the evening sky had darkened, and the entire sprawling compound was occupied by Qingshan Army members. At this moment, they were eating their meal, with chairs and tables set up in the courtyard. Large plates of wine and meat adorned the area, with men gathered at four tables and women sitting at one table, the jovial chatter and laughter filling the scene with liveliness.
"Miss Jun, Niuniu, come sit!"
Seeing them approach, the group enthusiastically called out, fetching stools, bowls, chopsticks, and dishes.
Such tasks didn't need to be performed by members of the Qingshan Army themselves. At a simple call, several soldiers hurried over to help.
"Uncle Tie, here's your wine," two soldiers gleefully carried over a jug of wine. "There's more if this isn't enough."
Iron Foot nodded.
"This will do," he said, stretching out his hand.
The two soldiers quickly dodged the gesture, carrying the wine jug inside instead.
"We'll handle it, Uncle Tie. No need for you to lift a finger," they said.
Iron Foot, not adept at refusing help, simply watched as the two soldiers placed the wine down and expressed his thanks.
"Uncle Tie, you're too polite," the men said, sheepishly rubbing their heads and looking delighted.
Iron Foot also rubbed his head, watching the two soldiers leave with high spirits.
"These soldiers treat us with great respect," Xia Yong remarked to Miss Jun. "All thanks to you, Miss Jun."
It wasn't just respect—it bordered on reverence. Each soldier took pride in speaking with and interacting with these Qingshan Army members.
Miss Jun looked at the soldiers, who walked away gleefully after delivering the wine and food. These troops were Dingzhou's stationed forces; though they hadn't fought alongside the Shun'an Army and the local villagers, they shared immense respect nonetheless.
"It's not because I'm the wife of the Duke of Chengguo's heir," she said, looking at everyone present.
Back when they had emerged from Zhangqing Mountain, there had been forty-five of them. Now only thirty-two remained.
Thirteen had died in battle. None were severely injured, for the Qingshan Army only allowed death in battle.
"This is something you all earned yourselves," Miss Jun said. "The Qingshan Army's bravery and reputation are admired by all."
Hearing her words, Yang Jing and Xia Yong chuckled, while the remaining villagers seemed modestly embarrassed as they always did when praised.
"One person alone doesn't make an army," Xia Yong said. "This is also thanks to you, Miss Jun."
Miss Jun smiled faintly.
"Let's drink," she said, setting aside further modesty and raising her wine bowl. "Let's have a toast together."
Then she turned back around.
"Hanqing is not allowed to drink," she said.
Zhao Hanqing, who had been sneaking a sip from her wine bowl, reluctantly put it down.
Watching Hanqing's expression, the men and women present burst into laughter. Several women even draped their arms over Hanqing's shoulders.
"Niuniu, don't rush. When you're healthy, you'll be able to drink," they said with a laugh.
Because it was time to eat and drink, Zhao Hanqing had removed her face cloth. She showed no signs of hesitation or fear in her demeanor and nodded at their words.
The others drained their bowls in one go. After three rounds of wine, everyone dove wholeheartedly into eating and drinking.
Yang Jing and Xia Yong invited Miss Jun indoors.
"Is there something on your mind, Miss Jun?" Xia Yong asked, taking the initiative.
Miss Jun revealed the Duke of Chengguo's plans to enter the capital.
Initially, they had left Zhangqing Mountain to escort Madam Yu to Hejian and Bazhou to protect the common people. What they had since accomplished had already gone far beyond their original mission.
Now that the populace had been protected and the Duke of Chengguo had safely returned, what came next? Was this a matter of seeking their opinions? Yang Jing and Xia Yong exchanged glances.
"Whatever Miss Jun needs us to do, we will do it," Yang Jing said. "We'll follow your lead."
"Indeed, escorting the Duke to the capital won't be a problem. If that's not needed, then let's return home," Xia Yong said.
Miss Jun nodded with a smile.
"There's no rush for that. Once Madam Yu arrives and we've received payment, we can discuss our next endeavor," she said.
Yang Jing and Xia Yong both laughed.
"I want to ask you about your past," Miss Jun suddenly said.
Yang Jing and Xia Yong hesitated briefly.
"I don't ask about my master's past," Miss Jun said, looking at them. "I know that without Aunt Xiao, you wouldn't dare or even want to admit you knew him."
She exhaled softly, pressing her forehead briefly as if the alcohol had begun to take its toll, her cheeks showing a deepening flush.
"I'm asking about you," she continued. "What exactly is the Qingshan Army?"
..................…..
"The Qingshan Army…."
Meanwhile, in a courtyard within the capital, Uncle Qinghe, dressed in a casual round-collared robe, stroked his beard and said:
"It sounds familiar."
The men seated before him looked surprised.
"Lord Bo knows of it?" they asked, their voices tinged with delight. "As expected, Lord Bo is knowledgeable. Lord Huang should have consulted you earlier."
Uncle Qinghe chuckled.
"Knowledgeable? Hardly. I've merely lived longer than most," he said, his brows furrowing slightly. "It seems like it was roughly twenty years ago. I vaguely recall overhearing this name in the northern lands."
That period had been Uncle Qinghe's prime.
Uncle Qinghe's expression carried a hint of nostalgia.
However, the men before him did not share his memories, nor did they show interest in revisiting the past.
"Were they truly government soldiers?" they pressed impatiently.
Uncle Qinghe furrowed his brows for a moment.
"Government soldiers, you say?" he scoffed. "No, they were a rebel army."
Rebel army?
The men all knew this term.
During the years of chaos between Great Qi, Great Jin, and Great Zhou, the northern lands were incredibly unstable. Bandits were rampant, and many wealthy clans and squires kept their own house servants. These forces, often entrenched in battlefields over the years, fought for power, survival, or self-defense against the Jurchen people. Gradually, some of these groups formed formidable military powers not to be underestimated.
The Great Zhou's government soldiers required the assistance of these forces in battles against the Jurchen people, leading to the incorporation of many of these groups into the official military, where they were labeled as rebel armies.
So, the Qingshan Army was….
But Uncle Qinghe waved his hand dismissively.
"No, no, they didn't even qualify as a rebel army. To put it bluntly, they were mere bandits," he said, raising his brows. "One shouldn't trust these bandits fully nor take them seriously. I vaguely recall they participated in a major campaign, but later, they vanished without a trace."
He shook his head.
"A motley crew, likely retreating back to banditry," he concluded.
.....................
"The Qingshan Army is not bandits."
After a moment of silence, Yang Jing lifted his head and looked at Miss Jun.
"The Qingshan Army is government soldiers."
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