The fiercest soldier of the border army

The crowd on both sides remained silent. The gongs and drums stopped, the bouquets drooped, the old man's hand froze in mid-air, and the child was pulled back behind him by his mother.

Some people threw the bouquets on the ground, while others turned their heads away, unable to bear to look any longer. They listened to the soldiers patrolling the streets shouting out Tang Shun's crimes, and felt that it was utterly absurd.

Tang Shun stood in the cage, his wrists bound by iron chains.

The procession came to an abrupt halt in front of a gray tent.

The guards stepped forward and opened the wooden bars, the iron chains rattling loudly.

Tang Shun was pushed off the prison cart. His knees bent slightly as his feet touched solid ground, but then he straightened up.

Cheng Feng, Wei Zong, Liang Enyi, and Zhu Hang have been taken away without any explanation.

Soldiers stood outside the tent along the way; they were all soldiers that Tang Shun had brought from Datong City in search of survival.

Their eyes were downcast, some clenched their fists, and some quickly turned their heads away to avoid eye contact, but they would probably survive.

Tang Shun was pushed into a solitary tent.

The curtains were drawn, separating the inside from the outside.

There was no light inside the tent, only a few rays of light seeping through the cracks, casting a long, slanted shadow on the muddy ground.

Tang Shun sat in the corner, leaning against a wooden stake, his hands still shackled, the chains hanging to the ground, making a slight sound.

Footsteps came and went outside the tent, soldiers were on guard, but no one went inside.

Tang Shun closed his eyes, and found himself enjoying the moment of tranquility.

From the moment he led more than twenty people out of Datong City, he dared not stop for a moment. His nerves were on edge the whole way, but now he could finally rest.

But I never expected it to be like this.

Tang Shun pondered alone.

The silence of the people along the way was not out of fear or indifference, but out of suppressed anger.

They witnessed Tang Shun and his entourage defending the city, and even participated in the defense. They saw him kill the Right Chief and watch him fight to the death to protect the walls.

I also saw him parading through the streets.

They saw that Wang Xianghong, who had previously fled in a sorry state under the city walls, was now sitting high on his horse, looking every bit the victor.

Wang Jinda locked him in a secluded tent, ostensibly to await trial, but in reality to place him under house arrest.

If we really wanted to punish him, we could have beheaded him on the battlefield long ago. Why bring him back to the city gates and parade him through the streets?

This shows that Wang Jinda dares not kill, or at least cannot kill now.

He couldn't control the three thousand people of Xiushui.

If Tang Shun were killed on the spot, there would be no way to verify the facts, which would instead incite a popular uprising.

The people may remain silent today, but they may speak up tomorrow.

Wang Jinda is shrewd and wouldn't make such a mistake.

So we spared his life, suppressed him for now, and waited for the storm to pass and for his achievements to be solidified.

Once the narrative of "building and defending the city, and managing the situation effectively" is attributed to Wang Xianghong and reported to higher authorities, the verdict will be finalized.

By then, Tang Shun would be considered a criminal for disobeying military orders and failing to provide aid despite having troops. He would die, and no one would mention it again.

Tang Shun recalled Shi Hanshan's words in the tent: "No problem."

His tone was flat and emotionless.

If Shi Hanshan truly agrees with Wang Jinda, he can simply let Wang Jinda execute him on the spot.

But Shi Hanshan said it, and he said it so decisively.

That was to tell Wang Jinda: I know you're acting, but I'll play along.

The condition is—people cannot die.

Shi Hanshan had no close relationship with him, yet he repeatedly protected him.

This person is upright, does not curry favor, and does not curry favor with those in power. He will not easily take sides unless he is seen as useful.

Now that he is in trouble, Shi Hanshan could not help him, but he did not kick him while he was down.

That "no problem" might be a compromise, or a delaying tactic, but it ultimately left a glimmer of hope.

So he wasn't killed or thrown into a death row cell, but instead imprisoned in this solitary tent—this was the result of the exchange.

Shi Hanshan traded his life for "not objecting," while Wang Jinda traded time for "temporary detention."

As long as he is there, the truth remains.

As long as the truth remains, there is always a chance to turn the tables.

But he must live to see that day.

Tang Shun pondered and came to a conclusion. His brows slowly relaxed. He realized that the way to break the deadlock was to return to Datong City.

If Datong City doesn't work, then we'll find another way and overturn the world!

At that moment, footsteps came from outside the tent, light and slow, not the hard-soled boots of soldiers, but cloth shoes.

Their footsteps stopped outside the tent, and after a moment, the curtain was lifted.

A slender figure entered and casually lowered the curtain.

It's Su Shu.

She wore a coarse cloth dress, her hair was simply styled and unadorned, and she carried a food box in her hand.

Tang Shun looked up, his voice hoarse: "How did you get in?"

"I said I was your maid, bringing you your last meal before your execution," she whispered, walking up to him, squatting down, and opening the food box.

Stir-fried diced meat, mixed wild vegetables, a bowl of wild vegetable soup, and two steamed buns.

The food was still warm, steaming hot.

"Eat it while it's hot," she said.

Tang Shun didn't move, chuckled lightly, "Last meal before execution? Interesting."

Su Shu looked up at him. "If you don't say that, they won't let you in."

Tang Shun lowered his head, reached out and grabbed a steamed bun, taking a big bite.

The coarse grains were hard in his mouth, but he swallowed them quickly.

He picked up another piece of meat, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

He had been starving for too long; he hadn't had a proper meal since the day he started defending the city.

He ate quickly, barely chewing.

Su Shu neither tried to persuade her nor spoke; she simply watched quietly.

After finishing one cornbread, he took a second one.

He stopped after drinking half of the soup and took a breath.

"They say you disobeyed military orders and caused the deaths of many comrades," Su Shu said softly.

Tang Shun put down the soup bowl. "I told you the truth, but nobody listened."

"I know," Su Shu said softly. "I saw it all. I was in the crowd during the parade."

"The people saw it too," Su Shu added. "They didn't shout, but they talked about it privately, and they all think you were wronged. They are very angry."

Su Shu took out a damp cloth from the bottom of the food box, wrung it out, and handed it to Tang Shun, "Wipe your face."

Tang Shun took it and wiped his forehead, mouth, and neck.

Black ash and a trace of blood remained on the cloth.

It feels much fresher.

Su Shu took it back, put the food box back, and then sat opposite him with her knees together and her hands on her lap.

The wind outside had died down, and the tent flaps no longer fluttered.

The light dimmed further, leaving only a sliver of sunlight filtering through the gaps, illuminating her profile and softening her features.

Tang Shun wiped his mouth again. "The last meal was quite tasty. Thanks, you can go now."

"You are now the daughter of a disgraced official, not some rich young lady."

"Walking around in this military camp, no one will protect you. If someone targets you, you won't even have a place to cry out for justice."

"I know." Su Shu looked up, her gaze meeting his eyes. "But you're not some squad leader, you're a prisoner now, a detainee. If I don't come, who will take care of you?"

Tang Shun pursed his lips and did not answer.

She stepped back half a step, her fingertips brushing against the torn strip of cloth on his sleeve, then sliding to the iron handcuffs on his wrists.

The cold, hard iron chain rubbed against the skin, turning it red, with blood clots forming at the edges.

"Are you in pain?" she asked.

"It doesn't hurt."

Are you tired?

"...Not tired."

"You're lying." Su Shu's voice lowered. "You're clearly in pain and exhausted."

Tang Shun looked at Su Shu.

There was a light in her eyes, not tears, nor fire, but something he couldn't understand—like a star suddenly shining in the wilderness, knowing the wind was strong, yet still burning brightly.

"Are you still able to stand up?"

"able."

"That's enough." Su Shu suddenly stood up and unbuckled her belt.

Tang Shun was taken aback.

Su Shu took off her outer robe and draped it over the food box.

Then he loosened the sash of his inner garment, taking off each piece one by one, neither too fast nor too slow.

The moon-white undergarment slipped off her shoulders, revealing her slender figure.

The candlelight was not lit, and her skin shimmered faintly in the twilight, like snow covering branches.

Tang Shun suddenly stood up, his chains rattling: "What are you doing!"

Su Shu didn't answer, but lowered her head and untied the last piece.

"Stop!" Tang Shun shouted.

Su Shu looked up and stared directly at him: "I told you, I owe you my life."

Her voice was soft, but every word was clear: "You said I don't need to repay, but I, Su Shu, don't like owing others, so I can't leave it unpaid."

"This is not the way to repay a debt of gratitude."

"Then tell me, what else can you do?"

Su Shu asked, "You're already a prisoner. If you die, I'll leave you an heir."

The wind stopped, the tent was still, and the world seemed to shrink into this small space.