On the third day, Zhao Hanzhang publicly announced Shi Lei’s massacre of prisoners. Throughout Luoyang, weeping filled the air.

When Zhao Hanzhang had returned empty-handed, they had prepared themselves, but when the definite news arrived, everyone still couldn’t help their grief.

Until mid-afternoon, Xun Xiu returned leading his troops. Between them were over a dozen ox carts, with board carts pulled by barbarian slaves behind, carrying corpses wrapped in straw mats.

Zhao Hanzhang had been waiting at the city gate early. Waiting with her were Wang Huifeng and others who had received advance notice.

As soon as the army approached, they couldn’t help stepping forward together, watching the straw mats on the carts through tear-blurred eyes.

Xun Xiu dismounted and strode quickly to Zhao Hanzhang, kneeling on one knee: “Administrator, this general has followed orders and brought back the corpses of all the officials.”

Zhao Hanzhang nodded, pointing to the canopy set up in advance at the city gate: “Temporarily place them here. Let each family from the city come to claim their dead.”

“As you command.” Xun Xiu rose and had people move all the corpses from the ox carts and board carts into the canopy for placement.

However, the lead ox cart was driven directly before Zhao Hanzhang. Xun Xiu lowered his head: “This is Grand Tutor Wang and Prince Xiangyang.”

Fourth Lady Wang immediately rushed forward, throwing back the straw mat to reveal Prince Xiangyang’s pallid face. She went to throw back the other mat—it was her father!

Fourth Lady Wang knelt on the ground, supporting herself against the ox cart, and wept bitterly.

Wang Huifeng also couldn’t help her eyes reddening. She stepped forward, lowering her head to look at her father, who had always been romantic and carefree.

Wang Yan was very handsome. Since youth he had been praised for his beautiful appearance. He had always paid great attention to his image, but in death everyone seemed much the same.

His brows were tightly furrowed, his face somewhat pained, his complexion pallid with corpse spots, showing he had been dead for some time. His body still carried a deep corpse odor.

She closed her eyes, stepped forward to cover him with the straw mat, not letting outsiders see his current appearance.

Father had always loved beauty. Even in death, he wouldn’t want people to see him in such a wretched state.

Wang Huifeng took a deep breath, turned and bowed to Zhao Hanzhang, saying calmly: “Hanzhang, I’ll take him back first.”

“Alright.” Zhao Hanzhang had people move Prince Xiangyang down and handed the ox cart to Wang Huifeng.

Wang Huifeng and her sister personally led the ox cart home. By the time they made their way back to Rufeng Residence in the eastern city, everyone in the city knew Zhao Hanzhang had sent people to dig up all those killed by Shi Lei—imperial clan members, officials, and scholar-officials—and bring them back.

So many people rushed from their homes, crying as they ran toward the city gate.

Arriving at the gate, they saw soldiers still continuously unloading corpses from board carts. They rushed forward, throwing back straw mats one by one to check. Some quickly found the relatives they sought, and along the way discovered many friends and acquaintances. The city gate area instantly filled with weeping.

Zhao Hanzhang stood at the city gate watching. Some passing commoners also stopped to observe for a while, their faces showing both indifference and emotion.

Such scenes had been experienced time and again over the past two years—too many times, making it difficult to stir great waves.

For common people, this scene had become commonplace.

But for Luoyang’s scholar-officials, such devastating disaster was their first experience. This time, Shi Lei had killed nearly half of the imperial clan, officials, and Luoyang’s aristocratic families.

Two youths, one older and one younger, pushed a board cart over. On it lay two corpses. They walked before Zhao Hanzhang and knelt, kowtowing together: “We thank General Zhao for bringing our father and elder brother back. We two brothers will remain in Luoyang. Though young with little we can do, we will exert all our strength to make our small contribution to protecting Luoyang.”

Zhao Hanzhang pressed her lips together, stepped forward to help them up, saying solemnly: “It is I who failed in my trust to you, unable to rescue them.”

The youth shook his head, eyes red: “Shi Lei is vicious. That General Zhao could ransom and rescue us from his hands already shows great capability.”

Others who found their relatives also borrowed board carts or ox carts from the army to take their dead home. Seeing Zhao Hanzhang standing not far away, several people bowed to her from afar before turning to leave.

Zhao Hanzhang nodded slightly in return, silently watching the weeping-filled mourning canopy.

Fu Tinghan withdrew his gaze and turned to look at Zhao Hanzhang, who had been watching the canopy all along. He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it to bring her back to awareness: “Feeling bad?”

Zhao Hanzhang didn’t respond. After a long while, her voice hoarse, she said: “When I first saw them, I didn’t feel much in my heart—just some complicated emotions toward Wang Yan and Prince Xiangyang.”

After all, she knew these two and had some slight interaction with them, but the others—Zhao Hanzhang didn’t know any of them.

“In my heart, their deaths were no different from a passage of text in history books.” Zhao Hanzhang said: “I don’t know if it’s because I’ve received too much similar news before, but I find it very difficult to empathize with their deaths.”

“Not until this moment did I begin to feel sorrow. Behind each of them is a family, and in each family are parents, wives and children, brothers and sisters.”

Fu Tinghan turned to look at her.

Zhao Hanzhang furrowed her brows: “I underestimated their feelings toward their relatives, overestimated my own moral character, and also—social customs are different…”

She added: “I underestimated this era’s emphasis on matters after death, and the importance placed on relatives’ posthumous affairs stems from their valuing of filial piety, compassion, righteousness, and benevolence.”

“Knowing this now isn’t too late.” Fu Tinghan said: “The vast majority are forced by circumstances to compromise with social conventions. The previous conventions were set by the Jin imperial house and great aristocratic families like Wang Yan. But now, you set them!”

Zhao Hanzhang’s eyes brightened: “You’re right!”

Zhao Hanzhang didn’t linger long. After people from the city finished claiming bodies, those remaining would need to be buried by her.

Though she was poor, coffins still had to be prepared—after all, everyone in Luoyang was watching, and before death, those people had all been individuals of name and position.

Those Shi Lei chose to keep were no simple people. Without fame or official position, they had basically all been ransomed by Zhao Hanzhang.

Fortunately, when she ransomed people, she had brought out many family members. Some had fled early, but among those who remained, relatives connected to relatives—they took back acquaintances and friends to bury together.

Those left unclaimed were mostly members of the Sima imperial clan.

Not many—a total of sixty-eight corpses.

Prince Xiangyang’s body was also taken away. Wang Huifeng came the next day to retrieve it, followed by several ladies and youths. She said: “Prince Xiangyang was righteous. We cannot bear to leave him exposed in the wilderness, so we’ve pooled funds to buy him a coffin. We’ll bury him together with my father and include him when making future offerings.”

Zhao Hanzhang naturally had no objection and handed Prince Xiangyang over to them.

The remaining Sima clan members had no one to care for them. Zhao Hanzhang could only handle it herself.

“Go ask the coffin shop if ordering many gives us a discount.”

“…Administrator, I already asked. Not only is there no discount, the price has actually increased.”

Hearing this, Zhao Hanzhang grew indignant and demanded: “On what grounds?”