From This Day Forward, No One Will Ever Bully You Again!

Northwest Corner of Ren-Rank Camp, Laundry Yard.

The blazing sun scorched the crude laundry yard, and the air was thick with the mingled stench of soap pods and sweat, sharp and pungent.

More than a dozen women in coarse clothes bent over huge wooden basins, their hands rubbing piles of filthy garments in murky water.

This was no ordinary laundry work, but the harshest and lowliest labor in the military camp. Those assigned to it were mostly convicted female prisoners or women of humble status.

Yu Rou was among them.

Bent over with her sleeves rolled up, she struggled to wash the clothes. Beads of sweat as large as beans slid continuously from her temples, trickling down her slender jaw and dripping into the basin.

Her back had long since been soaked through with sweat, her clothes clinging tightly to her skin and outlining the frail line of her spine.

Despite the hardship, she never uttered a word. Her former identity as a young lady of noble birth in the capital had long been buried deep in her heart.

She did not hope to return to wealth and glory someday. She only wanted to live steadily here in the camp and wait quietly for her husband to return.

In the wooden basin, Yu Rou's delicate hands had long become swollen and red. Her fingertips were covered in cracks, and mixed with the soapy water, every rub brought piercing pain.

Her once lovely face was now smeared with water stains and grime, several strands of wet hair plastered messily to her temples. Nothing remained of her former grace.

"Yu Rou! Didn't you eat? Why are you moving so slowly? This pile of armor must be washed before nightfall! Dilly-dallying again—do you want another whipping?"

A shrill, grating rebuke suddenly exploded through the yard. A burly middle-aged female steward with a fleshy face strode over, hands on her hips, her spittle nearly spraying Yu Rou's face.

Deliberately, she shoved a heap of especially heavy leather armor and chainmail caked in mud before Yu Rou.

"Steward Sun, why is there so much more armor? Haven't I already finished the amount I was supposed to wash today?"

At the sight, Yu Rou's already pale face grew even more drained. She hurriedly looked up at Steward Sun and asked.

The armor was thick and cold, and after soaking in water, it weighed as heavily as a thousand jun.

By rights, each person only needed to wash two pieces a day.

To earn military merit, she had voluntarily taken on four or five pieces, spending most of the day just finishing her own share.

Yet now Steward Sun had pushed so much more over—she was clearly making things difficult on purpose, and none of this would count toward military merit.

"If I tell you to wash it, then wash it! You still dare talk back? Didn't you say yourself that you wanted to do more work to earn military merit? Now I'm granting your wish, and instead of thanking me, you're blaming me?!"

Steward Sun's brows drew together, making the fat on her face tremble. She rolled up her sleeves and snapped the whip in her hand, producing a sharp whistle through the air.

The women nearby exchanged gloating looks and let out low chuckles.

"You really think you're some young lady of noble birth? You can't even wash clothes properly."

"She's got the face of a husband-killer. No wonder she got her man exiled to that hellhole, the Death Squad Camp. Serves her right!"

"Someone like Steward Sun ought to teach her a lesson. What's she acting so delicate for?"

Each cruel remark pierced Yu Rou's heart like a fine needle.

She bit down hard on her lower lip until the taste of blood spread through her mouth. Yet she could only lower her head further, letting humiliated tears swirl in her eyes as she desperately fought to keep them from falling.

She stretched out her swollen, trembling hands and struggled to drag the heavy chainmail over, despair written all over her.

But Steward Sun still was not satisfied.

She glanced around, then grabbed a thick wooden laundry club from beside her and strode forward. A vicious delight flashed in her eyes as she cursed, "You useless thing! Just looking at you makes me angry! If I don't show you some color today, you won't know how many eyes Lord Horse has!"

Before her words had even faded, she swung her arm in a full arc. With a howl of wind, the wooden club smashed viciously toward Yu Rou's frail back!

"Ah!"

A woman nearby cried out in alarm.

Yu Rou squeezed her eyes shut, her body shrinking back instinctively as she waited for the tearing agony to descend.

But the pain never came.

She looked up blankly and saw a large, steady hand with distinct knuckles shoot out from the side like an iron pincer, accurately and forcefully clamping down on Steward Sun's descending wrist!

The grip was immensely powerful. Caught off guard, Steward Sun felt as if her wrist had been cast in raw iron. Agonizing pain shot through her, and the wooden club fell from her hand with a loud clang, splashing mudwater everywhere.

Barings her teeth in pain, she was about to curse out the blind fool who had intervened when she looked up and met a pair of eyes cold enough to freeze her to the bone.

The gaze was unfamiliar, yet it inexplicably filled her heart with dread.

At some unknown moment, a travel-worn young man with a straight, upright bearing had silently appeared beside the washing pool.

He wore ordinary clothes and seemed to be a common soldier, yet a sharp, commanding aura radiated soundlessly from him, pressing all the women present into silence. None dared make a sound.

His gaze swept over the female steward's shocked, twisted face before finally settling on the woman trembling faintly from fear and confusion. In that instant, all the coldness in his eyes melted away, replaced by indescribable complexity and tenderness.

Yu Rou shakily raised her head and stared blankly at the man who had suddenly appeared, her mind reeling.

At first glance, she thought she had seen wrong. She rubbed her eyes again and again before finally confirming that she was not mistaken—this was not a dream!

That face she had missed day and night, the face she had believed she would never see again in this life, was truly and clearly before her eyes!

In an instant, all the strength she had forced herself to maintain, all her endurance, and the grievance, fear, and suffering she had bottled up for more than a month burst forth like floodwaters after a dam collapse!

"H-Husband?!"

Her voice trembled beyond recognition, filled with overwhelming shock and wild joy, like a drowning person finally grasping a piece of driftwood. Her tears instantly burst through their banks and poured out in torrents. She struggled to stand, but her legs went weak, and she stumbled forward.

Jiang Bei flung Steward Sun's hand away like lightning, stepped forward, and steadily caught Yu Rou as she fell into his arms.

Yu Rou's icy cheek pressed tightly against his chest. All her strength crumbled in an instant, leaving only broken, voiceless sobs.

The sorrow and grievance she had suppressed for so long surged out like a raging flood, soaking Jiang Bei's coarse clothes as her body shook violently in his embrace.

It was as though the entire world had fallen silent.

In the laundry yard, only Yu Rou's heart-rending sobs and Jiang Bei's steady, powerful heartbeat remained.

"Husband, I... I..."

Yu Rou choked up, unable to continue.

Jiang Bei gently patted her back. His voice was low yet resolute, carrying a reassuring strength. "All right, don't cry. I'm back. From this day forward, no one will ever bully you again."

With that, he slowly raised his eyes. His icy gaze swept over the yard, passing over the women who did not even dare breathe loudly before finally pinning Steward Sun in place. "You're all doing laundry, yet you still treat people differently? If you want to keep living, you know what you should do!"

Clutching her agonizing wrist, Steward Sun looked from Yu Rou, whom Jiang Bei was guarding tightly, to the chilling gleam in his eyes. The color instantly drained from her face as immense fear seized her.

Though he looked unfamiliar, Yu Rou had called him that. Clearly, this man was Jiang Bei, the one exiled to the Death Squad Camp!

In barely over a month, he had actually returned from the Death Squad Camp!

That meant Jiang Bei was no ordinary man—someone she could not afford to provoke at all!

And with that bearing, along with the terrifying strength in his hand just now, he was clearly not something an ordinary soldier could possess!

If she dared argue again now, she had no doubt Jiang Bei would split her in two with a single slash!

"I-I... Yu Rou, I was wrong just now! I apologize to you! I'll never do it again!"

Steward Sun hurried forward and apologized repeatedly.

Jiang Bei frowned, just about to speak, when Yu Rou gently tugged at him from within his arms. "Husband, I'm fine..."

Jiang Bei gave a slight nod, then looked back at Steward Sun. His voice was cold and heavy. "There had better not be a next time. Otherwise, I guarantee you'll die an ugly death."

After saying that, he led Yu Rou directly out of the laundry yard.

An invisible, suffocating pressure spread through the entire laundry yard along with his words, shrouding the place completely.

Steward Sun and the women who had been watching the spectacle no longer dared so much as breathe.

Jiang Bei led Yu Rou toward his own barracks.

Seeing her in such a state, his eyes were full of heartache. "By rights, you should only need to wash two pieces of armor each day. Why did you wash so many more?"

Just now, he had seen that the wooden basin beside Yu Rou already contained four or five pieces of washed armor.

He had been puzzled at the time, but had not asked directly.

"I... I volunteered."

Yu Rou's voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz.

"Why?"

Jiang Bei was even more confused.

"As long as I do double the work every day, I can save up one military merit in a month. As long as I save thirty... I can have you transferred back from the Death Squad Camp."

Yu Rou lowered her head, her voice very soft.

At her words, Jiang Bei's heart stirred, and a warm current rose within him.

He vaguely remembered such a rule: aside from earning military merit themselves to apply for transfer out of the Death Squad Camp, those sent there could also have their wives accumulate military merit through certain means to help them escape their plight.

But every one of those means was extraordinarily difficult.

For someone like Yu Rou, even doubling the laundry work was already brutally exhausting, yet it took an entire month to earn a single military merit. To accumulate thirty military merits would take nearly three years...

She would have to labor so hard for a full three years, yet Yu Rou had never said a word of complaint.

Thinking of this, he pulled Yu Rou even closer. "You've suffered, Xiao Rou. Now that I'm back, I'll go have you quit this laundry work later."

"But husband, we still have to live from now on. I can earn six hundred wen a month working here. I'm not afraid of hardship!"

Yu Rou hurriedly raised her head and said.

"Leave the matter of money to me."

Jiang Bei comforted her softly.

In the military camp, the only way to earn money was by killing enemies.

The head of a Barbarian could be exchanged for quite a bit of silver.

Whether for the family's livelihood, to improve his strength, or to guard against Xie Kaiyue, he needed to take missions and go onto the battlefield to kill enemies as soon as possible.

Before long, the two returned to their barracks.

The room was not large, but it had been kept clean and orderly, everything arranged in perfect order.

"Husband, I'll go take a bath first."

Yu Rou said softly.

"All right."

Jiang Bei nodded, but the instant Yu Rou turned and slipped off her outer garment, his gaze abruptly sharpened.

He quickly stepped forward, his voice suddenly turning dark. "What happened? Who hurt you?"

His eyes locked tightly onto Yu Rou's shoulder and arm, where several glaring scratch marks remained, her pale skin bruised blue beneath them.

His first thought was Steward Sun, but on second thought, if Steward Sun had truly struck her, she would have used a club or whip. How could she have left scratch marks?