Just as the wind and snow had whipped their faces numb, the prison cart finally halted before an open space enclosed by a dilapidated fence.
Ningguta Station.
But where was the promised relay station?
Shen Taotao glanced up, and in her heart, she immediately wrote off the “structure” before her.
The mud-plastered surrounding wall had half-collapsed. A few crooked log cabins squatted in the snow, their roofs sparsely covered with thatch, resembling hats gnawed to shreds by the northwestern wind.
The only sign of anything “official” was the faded old flag stuck in the ground before the door of the slightly larger wooden house in the center.
The two soldiers on guard duty clutched their shoddy steel sabers, shrinking their necks and stomping their feet. Their faces were stiff and purplish-blue from the cold.
Shen Taotao nearly ground her molars to dust. The suffering she had endured on this journey surpassed all the hardships of her previous life combined.
“The family of the disgraced official Shen, a total of six members, identities verified!” the escorting bailiff announced in a shrill tone, like a shovel scraping the bottom of a wok. He handed over a roll of tattered official documents. “The paperwork is here.”
The Shen Family, having been crammed into the prison cart for the entire journey, now helped each other out. They huddled together in the bone-chilling wind.
Shen Dashan and Shen Xiaochuan, the two able-bodied men, almost instinctively formed a circle around the three women—He Shi, Shen Taotao, and Second Sister-in-law Shen.
Father Shen also tried to move forward to offer some protection but was unobtrusively nudged between his eldest and second sons by Shen Dashan’s shoulder.
In a place like this, heaven knew what could happen if the women were left on their own.
The family’s movements were exceedingly natural and swift, without a hint of hesitation, as if by instinct.
He Shi gripped Shen Taotao’s hand tightly in her own withered palm, wrapping it in her tattered sleeve.
Second Sister-in-law Shen partially shielded Shen Taotao with her body, her eyes fixed warily on the soldiers.
Just then, the largest wooden house creaked as its door opened.
A figure emerged from within.
The doorframe was not particularly low, yet he almost had to duck his head to come out.
He wore a deep cyan close-fitting attire, over which was a half-worn, indigo-colored padded jacket. The fabric looked better than the soldiers’, but it was by no means luxurious; the stitching was even coarse.
Beneath his dark, glossy hair, which was tied back immaculately, his facial contours seemed as if carved by a knife and shaped by an axe. His brow bone was high, casting his eyes in deep shadows and making his gaze appear exceptionally profound.
He had a high-bridged nose, but his lips were pressed into a thin, hard line, like a long, cold strip of iron.
He wore no expression, only a chill that seemed to seep from the very marrow of his bones.
He just stood there before the wooden house, and the wind and snow seemed to automatically detour around him, carving out an invisible vacuum in his vicinity.
He didn’t look at the official documents, nor did he look at the bailiff who handed them over. His two dark eyes, like probes tipped with ice shards, slowly swept over the Shen Family huddled in the snow.
“Identities correct?” he finally spoke. His voice was neither high nor low, yet every word was like a small ice cube hitting the frozen ground—devoid of emotion, and certainly not a question. It was merely a routine confirmation.
“Replying to Lord Six… Replying to Your Lordship, they are correct.” The bailiff’s waist was bent so low he nearly snapped in two. “This is the Shen Family, implicated in the Ministry of Public Works Embezzlement Case. The entire family is here!”
Xie Yunjing’s gaze once again fell upon the members of the Shen Family, sweeping over Shen Taotao, who was half-hidden behind Shen Dashan, and pausing for an instant.
There was no contempt in his eyes, no lewdness, only a cold detachment akin to appraising an object.
It was as if he were sizing up a rock, or a frozen clod of earth.
Then, he withdrew his gaze. His thin lips parted, and the words he uttered were three parts colder, like ice water being poured over their heads.
“Ningguta is a place of exile, not the land of comfort you once knew. The might of the heavens has descended; that you are allowed to live is already a boundless grace. From this day forward, you shall abide by your station and settle into garrison farming. According to the law: you are to dig half a cubic meter of stone, fell ten logs, or reclaim one mu of land each day. The men will perform labor, the women and children will handle logistics. No slacking is permitted! As for your lodging…”
He raised a hand and pointed to the edge of the station’s enclosure, at the most crooked and dilapidated shacks. “Those few vacant wooden sheds can serve as your shelter. Tidy them up yourselves.”
His words were concise and devoid of warmth, as if explaining any further would be a waste of breath.
Listening to this cold, rigid “onboarding notice,” Shen Taotao was already cold and hungry, her stomach burning. The comfort brought by the earlier scent of pine nuts had long been blown away by the wind and snow.
Looking at Xie Yunjing’s face, which was even colder than Ningguta’s permafrost, she thought: Abide by our station, boundless grace—what bullshit!
A nameless, wicked fire shot straight to the crown of her head.
She lowered her voice, almost gritting her teeth, and squeezed out a few words at her eldest brother Shen Dashan’s sturdy back, “Hmph, who’s he putting on that coffin face for! Does he think he’s some icefield lone wolf?” When she got to that last phrase, “icefield lone wolf,” her tone was filled with contempt and anger.
Shen Dashan’s body visibly stiffened.
Second Sister-in-law, who had been listening with pricked ears, turned pale with fright. Shen Xiaochuan instinctively reached out to cover his little sister’s mouth.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
No matter how low Shen Taotao had kept her voice, in the relay station, which was silent save for the howling wind, it was as clear as a clap of thunder. Especially those last few words.
Xie Yunjing, who had been expressionless all along, seemed to pause ever so slightly.
His deep, placid, black eyes finally showed a subtle movement.
His gaze, like two ice picks that had suddenly materialized, accurately pierced through the wind, snow, and the gap between Shen Dashan’s sturdy shoulders, stabbing sharply at Shen Taotao’s small face, which was written all over with “unconvinced.”
Xie Yunjing had seen too many so-called ladies from exiled official families.
In this desperate situation, they either resigned themselves to their fate and waited for death with ashen faces, or they relied on their lingering good looks, their eyes either timid or fawning, to seduce the guards.
Some even took the initiative to drop hints, all to trade for a corner sheltered from the wind, half a piece of moldy dry rations, or to spare their men from heavier labor.
Just as the Shen Family was getting out of the cart, he had glimpsed another group of convicts’ families who had arrived a few days earlier.
A woman was being timidly pushed by her own husband toward a squad leader who was watching them with his arms crossed and a sidelong glance…
Numb, sordid, and dirty transactions played out almost daily in this bitter, cold land.
Here, a woman was sometimes worth less than a bowl of hot water.
But this family before him.
The men protected the women tightly in the center, their bodies forming a shield as impenetrable as armor, guarding not against wild beasts, but against the potential malice of the soldiers.
Although the two young women were disheveled, their eyes held not a trace of sycophancy or submission, only vigilance and concern for their family.
Especially this scrawny little girl before him, her face blue from the cold, who dared to curse him as “coffin face” and “icefield lone wolf” behind his back.
In her eyes, there was no fear of authority, no numbness from a will to survive at any cost, only an anger on the verge of exploding from the pressure of reality and the cold, and a wild, tenacious vitality like that of a weed.
It was as if this bitter cold was inherently incapable of breaking her; instead, she would grow thorns to prick others.
Heh.
The corner of Xie Yunjing’s mouth seemed to twitch downward ever so slightly.
It wasn’t a smile, but more like a barely perceptible crack skimming across a sheet of ice.
That bone-chilling gaze rested on Shen Taotao’s face for about two breaths.
Shen Taotao craned her neck fearlessly, her bright eyes glaring back in anger, like a small, thorny flower struggling to bloom in the snow.
Then, that ice-cavern gaze slowly moved away, falling on Shen Dashan’s tense frame, before sweeping over the rest of the Shen Family and finally retracting.
It was as if nothing had happened.
“Take them over,” Xie Yunjing’s voice was as placid as before, perhaps even colder.
He no longer looked at the Shen Family, turning to walk back into the wooden house. The wind and snow once again filled the space where he had just stood.
The guard he had gestured to stepped forward and barked, “What are you standing there for! You want to freeze to death at the gate! Go!” His attitude was extremely hostile. He jabbed with his steel saber, nearly poking Shen Xiaochuan in the back.
The Shen Family broke out in a cold sweat.
Shen Dashan, especially fearful of the consequences, forcefully pulled Shen Taotao, hiding her completely behind his and Shen Xiaochuan’s tall figures, terrified that his sister’s outrageous words would bring disaster.
Dragged into a stumble, Shen Taotao bit her lip, watching Xie Yunjing’s upright back disappear behind the door of the wooden house.
“Dead block of ice!” she muttered hatefully again, in a voice only she could hear.
Inside her thick, tattered sleeve, her fingers secretly pinched her own thigh, forcefully suppressing the physiological urge to shiver from the cold.
Just you wait, old lady!