Los bandidos de montaña están en movimiento

Capítulo 160

Behind the tent, in a secluded and deserted place, Zhan Zhao knelt weakly, his hands supporting him on the ground, his head bowed low, and a trace of blood still lingering at the corner of his lips.

He spent a sleepless night, thinking a thousand times about how he should remain calm when he saw her, but it was all in vain.

All he knew was that she was working in Kaifeng Prefecture; nothing else. In their secret correspondence every three months, Bao Zheng never mentioned anything else about her.

So he could only imagine: perhaps she had forgotten him, perhaps she was doing well, perhaps someone else would treat her better than him, perhaps...

"My husband's surname is Zhan." Her voice still echoed in my ears.

He could see her neatly combed woman's hair, but he never imagined that it was combed for him.

Although he knew she loved him deeply, he always assumed she believed him to be dead and would move on with her life after her grief. After all, they were husband and wife in name only, and that was something he secretly rejoiced about.

But he didn't know that she had been trapped in the name of being husband and wife all along.

The author has something to say: This morning I happened to hear Zhang Zhen's "Walking Hand in Hand Through the World," and it felt like it was about Momo and the cat. *Sigh*

Volume 3, Chapter 7

Although the snow had stopped, the sky remained overcast.

Because of the heavy snowfall and the fact that the carriages carrying the tribute were very heavy, they got stuck in the snowdrifts several times, making the entire procession move increasingly slowly.

After traveling for two days, they stopped to rest at noon. Ningjin envoy Wu Zichu went to inquire how many more days it would take to reach Zhongjing, given the current situation.

Wu Zichu returned after a while and reported: "Lord Yelü said that it will probably take another four or five days. Moreover, the Liao emperor is not in Zhongjing now, but at the winter hunting grounds in Guangpingdian. After we arrive in Zhongjing and put the annual tribute into the national treasury, we will have to take the tribute with us to Guangpingdian."

"This is really exhausting." Ning Jin shook his head and sighed. Being stuck in the carriage every day was really stifling. He looked up and asked, "What is that girl doing?"

“Standing outside the carriage eating a flatbread, he must have been feeling really stifled inside.” Wu Zichu gestured with his chin towards the outside.

Ning Jin peeked out and saw that Mo Yan had gotten off the carriage at some point. She was leaning against the carriage shaft, munching on a piece of mutton pastry, her gaze fixed on the snow-covered Fuhu Forest in the distance.

If it weren't for the black rock halfway up the mountain, Mo Yan might not have recognized that this was Fuhu Forest. Seeing it now, she was somewhat stunned. She accidentally choked on the dry biscuit in her mouth, coughing violently until tears streamed down her face. Grabbing her water pouch, she gulped down several mouthfuls before feeling better. Looking up, she suddenly saw Yelü Pusa Nu standing right in front of her, staring straight at her.

"Lord Yelü," she raised her hand to wipe the crumbs from her cheek, asking curiously, "Is something the matter?"

"You..." Zhan Zhao almost asked her if she was feeling better, but he swallowed the words back. "You'd better stay in the carriage."

“…Oh.” She responded, bewildered, and slowly climbed into the carriage.

He reached out and pulled the carriage curtain shut tightly to prevent the cold wind from getting in.

“Lord Yelü,” the civil official Xihe hurried over and reported to him, “This wilderness and snowy terrain is difficult to traverse. The Song people are not used to it. Several Song guards have snow in their boots and their feet have been ruined by the snow water. We need to think of a solution.”

How many people are there?

There are probably five or six.

Zhan Zhao thought for a moment and said, "Abuli has some medicinal wine with him. He can rub it on them and let them warm themselves by the fire. They'll be fine after a rest. But we can't stop here. Let them get into the carriage and rest."

"The problem is with the carriages. The carriages carrying the annual tribute can't move. We all ride horses here. The remaining six carriages are full of supplies, so we can't free them up."

"Then go and ask Prince Ning if he can spare a carriage for them to rest in."

Civil official Xi He hesitated, "Is this... appropriate?"

Zhan Zhao didn't answer and walked away expressionlessly. The civil official Xi He had no choice but to come towards Ning Jin.

Fortunately, Ning Jin was a very easy person to talk to, and it wasn't difficult for him to free up a carriage, since he had already asked Li Qigao for an extra carriage before entering Liao territory.

There was only one person in that carriage: Mo Yan.

Now, due to the reassignment, Mo Yan is unable to ride a horse because she is still ill, so she has to squeeze into the same carriage as Ning Jin.

"Hey girl, do you really need to hide from me so far away?"

Ning Jin looked at Mo Yan, who was huddled in the corner of the carriage, with annoyance, and raised an eyebrow to ask.

Mo Yan shifted uncomfortably, looking even more annoyed than him: "Do you think I wanted this? Your nanny Wu repeatedly told me that His Highness is of noble birth and that I must be careful not to pass on the illness to you."

“This Zichu…”

Ning Jin had initially thought it was for some other reason, but he never expected it to be this. He gritted his teeth inwardly, but outwardly waved to her as if nothing was wrong, saying, "Come here, come here. I'm not that delicate. You're huddled there, it's inconvenient for you to even talk."

"If you get sick, you can't blame it on me."

Mo Yan sat crampedly, feeling quite uncomfortable, and besides, she was a bit far from the heater, so she wished she could get closer.

Ning Jin chuckled and said, "Of course not."

She then moved closer, cupped her hands around the brazier, and warmed herself comfortably. After a while, she pressed her face against the carriage curtain, looked out, and sighed, "The snow is so thick; you can't see this in the Central Plains."

"If we had set off a few days earlier, we might not have encountered this heavy snow," Ning Jin said.

Mo Yan asked curiously, "Why not just change the annual tribute to be sent in the summer? Why insist on sending it in the winter?"

“Who knows,” Ning Jin said casually as he poured himself a cup of tea. “The rule is that this is the time. I had Zichu ask this morning, and with this snow, it will take us at least four or five days to get to Zhongjing. I wonder if it’s always like this in previous years, otherwise the old Liao emperor might think that the Song Dynasty is deliberately delaying us.”

Mo Yan initially wanted to say "I don't care about him," but then she thought of Zhao Yu again, and feeling depressed, she didn't say anything more.

Ning Jin, unaware of her thoughts, assumed she was feeling down because of the stuffiness in the carriage, so he deliberately teased her, saying, "You've been a constable for several years now, what strange people and cases have you encountered? Tell me a few, so I can have something new to hear."

“What’s there to say? They’re either thieves, murderers, or corrupt officials,” Mo Yan said listlessly. “We’re already annoyed enough on ordinary days, and now that we finally get a day off, why bother complaining?”

Ning Jin smiled and asked, "So what do you usually do for entertainment?"

"Entertainment?" Mo Yan's eyes darted around, then lit up slightly. "Yes! It's gambling!"