The next day, Qian Jiaoniang and Xing Muzheng’s group exited the gates of the marquis’s estate. A carriage and several horses waited at the entrance. Hugging her one-eyed dog, Qian Jiaoniang glanced around, puzzled. Traveling to the capital wasn’t the same as going to Gui County—it was a long journey. With more people came more luggage. Was one carriage really enough?
Xing Muzheng seemed to see her confusion. “We’ll travel by boat first.”
Midway through the year, the Wuhu Waterway had been fully completed. It stretched from Weizhou to Minghu Prefecture, passing through Yuzhou, spanning over a thousand li. It had been overseen by Prime Minister Hang Zhi and was originally meant to transport military supplies to the front lines. Now, it had also become more convenient for commoners to travel. Qingya had explained this to her in the carriage.
With a clatter, the carriage came to a stop. Xing Pingchun leapt out eagerly. Qian Jiaoniang stepped down, and as she looked up, she saw a massive ship docked at the riverbank, flying the banner of the Dingxi Marquis’s household. The ship was huge and grand, with three levels. Just the prow alone could hold dozens of people. In comparison, the workers below looked tiny.
“What a big ship!” Qian Jiaoniang couldn’t help exclaiming.
“Mother, look! They’re bringing my ant onboard!” Pingchun cried out in delight, pointing ahead.
Following his finger, Qian Jiaoniang saw a few soldiers leading Pingchun’s little black horse onto the ship after another horse named Lightning. “This ship can even carry horses,” she said in surprise.
“That’s a louchuan—the largest ship in our Xie Dynasty,” Qingya said from atop the carriage board, looking at it solemnly.
Qian Jiaoniang didn’t need Shanzha’s help. Still holding her one-eyed dog, she jumped down from the carriage. Seeing Qingya’s gloomy expression, she asked with concern, “What’s wrong? You look pale. Are you afraid of sailing?” She’d heard some people got dizzy or nauseous on boats.
Qingya slowly shook her head. “I’m not afraid… I just remembered something unpleasant.”
Supported by Shanzha, Qingya got down and pointed at the dog in her arms. “You’re really bringing that thing along?”
Qian Jiaoniang looked down at the quiet little dog nestled against her, smiled, and gently stroked its head. “Of course I am. Otherwise, wouldn’t it be lonely all alone at home?”
The one-eyed dog seemed to understand and gave a bark.
Li Ding had come to see them off. When he saw the giant ship, his eyes went wide. Pingchun dragged him around the boat several times, trying to persuade him to come along. But Li Ding resisted the temptation and firmly insisted on staying in the city to wait for his parents. The two boys reluctantly said their goodbyes before Li Ding disembarked.
Two quarters of an hour later, everything was ready. Qian Jiaoniang and the others boarded the prow of the ship and curiously watched as it set sail.
Once the louchuan entered the river, it glided along the current at a steady pace. Soon, both sides of the river were flanked by towering green mountains, lush and majestic. Qian Jiaoniang stood at the bow with her dog in one arm, facing the wind and gazing into the distance. After a long while, she pulled her eyes back and sneezed once. She counted the boats ahead—six in total clearing the way—and six more smaller ones behind, all flying the Dingxi Marquis’s banner. Soldiers in full armor stood aboard.
So this was what it meant to travel to the capital in grand fashion.
A strong wind swept through, and Xing Muzheng’s beloved eagle, Lielei, was released, soaring and screeching in the sky.
Qian Jiaoniang looked up as she held down her tousled hair, when suddenly—a black shadow dropped from the sky and landed squarely on her face.
Startled, she thought the eagle had swooped down on her. She grabbed it, only to find—it was a dark blue cloak with subtle patterns.
She turned her head in a fluster—and sure enough, Xing Muzheng was standing behind her. This kind of thing could only have been done by him.
“Put it on,” Xing Muzheng said.
Lielei swooped down with a screech, hovered briefly, then landed on Xing Muzheng’s shoulder. Man and eagle both stared expressionlessly at Qian Jiaoniang.
Qian Jiaoniang returned the stare, equally expressionless.
For some reason, Qingya found it amusing. She carefully took the cloak off Qian Jiaoniang’s head and re-fastened the hairpin in her hair. “This cloak is too large for Madam,” she said. “Dongsheng, hurry and fetch Madam’s cloak.”
Dongsheng quickly responded and left. Lielei flapped its wings, and Qian Jiaoniang, distracted by its golden eyes, was caught off guard when it suddenly stretched its neck and screeched at her. She jumped back in fright. The one-eyed dog immediately barked furiously. Xing Muzheng flicked his finger toward the eagle’s beak and scolded, “Beast!”
Qian Jiaoniang snapped out of it and laughed lightly. “Truly, like master, like pet. The Marquis’s eagle is quite fierce.”
She was clearly saying he was fierce toward her, too. Xing Muzheng felt his face flush under his skin. He reached into his robe and took out a small packet wrapped in two layers of oiled paper. Inside were glossy pieces of dried meat. He picked one and handed it to Qian Jiaoniang. She glanced at him, pinched it between two fingers, put it in her mouth, and chewed—hm, chewy and flavorful.
“…”
Xing Muzheng looked at her meaningfully. “Are you hungry?”
Qian Jiaoniang shook her head—she’d just had breakfast.
Lielei beat its wings vigorously but didn’t dare make a sound.
“Then why are you eating Lielei’s snack?”
Qian Jiaoniang nearly choked—this was the eagle’s snack?! Such good dried beef! She hadn’t even had proper beef for a whole year, and he was feeding this to his eagle?
Qian Jiaoniang patted her chest. Hongjuan quickly handed her a water gourd. After taking a few sips, she recovered. “Why are you giving me bird treats, Marquis?” Was he just making fun of her?
Xing Muzheng actually laughed. “I wanted you to feed it.”
Qian Jiaoniang glared at him. The servants nearby exchanged glances in astonishment. They had never seen the Marquis laugh before—and when he did, he was really quite handsome.
“I’m timid. I don’t dare.”
“You couldn’t do it alone anyway.”
Xing Pingchun, that wild little thing, came running from the cabin, yelling, “Lielei!” He bounced over, imitating the eagle’s call. Lielei turned its head aside, seeming to not want to deal with him. Pingchun giggled, then looked at the meat in Xing Muzheng’s hand, eyes shining. “Meat! Dad, can I eat some?”
Xing Muzheng: “…” Like mother, like son? “That’s for Lielei.”
“Wow! So Lielei gets to eat meat this good?! Mom, mom, in my next life I want to be an eagle too, so I can eat meat every day!”
Everyone burst into laughter. Qian Jiaoniang said, “Well now, that’s some lofty ambition.”
Pingchun grinned wide and turned back to ask, “Dad, can I feed Lielei?”
Xing Muzheng nodded.
Behind him, Li Qingquan, Ah Da, Wang Yong, and the others exchanged curious looks.
Pingchun, thrilled with the permission, took a piece of meat and held it up to Lielei. “Lielei, eat!”
Lielei smelled the aroma, turned its head back, and locked its golden eyes on the meat in Pingchun’s hand. Its beak stayed tightly shut, making low guttural sounds, but it didn’t move.
Pingchun pushed the meat closer. “Lielei, come on, eat!”
Clearly it wanted to—but it stubbornly didn’t budge.
Qian Jiaoniang was watching when suddenly someone grabbed her hand. Xing Muzheng placed a piece of meat in her palm, cupped her hand with his, and gently lifted it. Lielei immediately darted its head forward and pecked the meat right out of her palm. It was quick and light—Qian Jiaoniang only felt a light tap and the meat was gone.
“Eh? Mom, why will Lielei only eat from your hand and not mine?” Pingchun pouted.
“How would I know?” Qian Jiaoniang pulled her hand back. The one-eyed dog, having caught the scent, stretched its neck to lick the grease left on her palm.
Wang Yong laughed, “Chou’er, it’s not that Lielei ate from your mother’s hand. It’s that it only eats when the Commander feeds it. It won’t eat from anyone else.”
“If you want to feed the eagle,” Xing Muzheng added, “you’ll have to catch one yourself.”
Can’t ride Lightning, can’t feed Lielei… He really was pitiful. Pingchun popped the meat into his own mouth. Hmm. Chewy and flavorful.
Dongsheng returned with a white fox-fur cloak and draped it over Qian Jiaoniang’s shoulders. Qingya handed the borrowed cloak back to Xing Muzheng. He didn’t say anything more and simply turned to leave. Lielei spread its wings and soared into the sky with a long cry.
It wasn’t often that Qian Jiaoniang got to ride a boat—especially one this grand. She stood at the bow, gazing at the mountains and rivers. Qingya, complaining about the cold, had gone into the cabin. Qian Jiaoniang didn’t want anyone to accompany her, so she sent Hongjuan, Shanzha, and the others inside too, and stood alone, enjoying the breeze.
When Xing Muzheng returned from managing matters aboard the ship, he dismissed the others and stood quietly on the upper deck, watching her back.
After a while, Lielei emerged from the mountains, its talons gripping a brilliantly colored snake. It flew above the deck, shrieked, then dropped the near-dead snake onto the ship. The flower-patterned snake twisted weakly twice before Lielei dove and tore it apart to eat.
Qian Jiaoniang recognized it—a highly venomous spotted snake—yet it stood no chance before this eagle of Xing Muzheng’s.
Ah Da, seeing her interest, told her Lielei’s story. Lielei was known as the King of Eagles, capable of hunting all beasts—and even killing humans. It had followed Xing Muzheng onto battlefields multiple times, soaring freely through storms of arrows, pecking out the eyes of enemies, giving Xing Muzheng a powerful advantage. It was truly a war eagle.
Ever since Lielei returned from the hunt, the one-eyed dog had been barking nonstop in Qian Jiaoniang’s arms, pawing at her to let it down. She finally set it down, and to everyone’s shock, the timid dog ran right up to the eagle, barking wildly.
Lielei’s golden eyes gleamed like torches, and it spread its massive wings as if preparing for battle. Ah Da tensed, terrified the eagle might take it seriously and kill the dog—if that happened, the Commander would never win Madam’s forgiveness.
Qian Jiaoniang also worried the eagle might hurt the little dog and stepped forward to pick it up—but Lielei suddenly dove low toward the dog.
She and Ah Da didn’t have time to reach it.
Just as the moment flashed by, the little dog crouched to brace itself.
In the blink of an eye, Lielei was already in front of it—then with a sharp cry, veered off and shot into the sky.
Ah Da saw clearly that the hidden weapon had struck Lielei’s wing and thought to himself—who would dare harm the Commander’s beloved pet? He and Lielei both looked in the same direction and saw Xing Muzheng standing on the upper deck. With one hand, he flicked out another hidden weapon, hitting Lielei’s wing again. Lielei staggered slightly in the air, then realized it was its master punishing it. It flapped a couple times and perched on the mast, letting out a cry that even sounded somewhat aggrieved.
Qian Jiaoniang looked at the object that had fallen—it was a copper coin.
She looked up and saw Xing Muzheng moving his lips, saying something to her.
She didn’t hear it, but narrowed her eyes. No matter how she looked at it, he seemed to be mouthing: “Like master, like beast.”
