Just how big a heart did she have, to still be able to sleep in a moment like this? Qian Jiaoniang propped herself up, “I should go check on Chou’er, and Qingya, and my dog…”
Xing Muzheng reached out and pressed her back down. “It’s pitch-black. What are you fussing for?”
Qian Jiaoniang fell back onto the bed and froze. Xing Muzheng’s hand…
What had he just touched? Why was it so soft? Xing Muzheng’s thoughts shifted. He gave a little squeeze—and was promptly slapped away in the dark with a crisp smack. Xing Muzheng now understood exactly what he had grabbed. He cleared his throat and retracted his hand, rubbing his fingers.
***
On Wuling Mountain, the black-clad bandits saw the louchuan suddenly vanish into the dark. They raised their large bows and laughed loudly. One of them looked up at the leader sitting in a tree and said, “Boss, seems if we want to blockade the river, we should pick a night with a full moon!”
“Not necessarily—we could use fire arrows!”
“Right, right! Fire arrows! Burn the boat, then we can board!”
“Why don’t we try it now?”
The bandit leader—with a full beard—tossed a handful of melon seeds at their heads and leapt down from the tree. “Try your grandma’s legs! You’re all blind! A regular merchant or escort ship wouldn’t react so fast—extinguish the lights on command? You didn’t hear that strange drumbeat? The escort ships obeyed its rhythm with zero delay. Does that look like an ordinary ship to you?!”
The bandits were stunned. They had just come down to test the waters, and already ran into a big catch?
“Boss… you’re making it sound so mysterious. Who exactly are the people on that big ship?”
The bandit leader looked toward the pitch-black river surface. “How would I know who they are? But whoever they are, they’re not to be messed with. Hurry and tell the brothers to pack up and retreat!”
***
The louchuan moved faster and faster. Outside, peace had returned, as if the earlier danger had never occurred. Qian Jiaoniang lay in bed, listening to the quiet sounds of the river.
Heavy footsteps mixed in with the water sounds—Ah Da came to report to Xing Muzheng. “Commander, the bandits have retreated.”
“Mm. Relight the lamps. Slow down the pace, continue forward.”
“Yes.”
Xing Muzheng relit the oil lamp inside the cabin, and light returned to the room. The one-eyed dog poked its head out from under the bed, but when it saw Xing Muzheng’s tall figure, it quickly shrank back in. Xing Muzheng turned around and met Qian Jiaoniang’s complex gaze.
He walked to the bedside and asked, “Are you feeling any better now?”
“You… you were here this whole time?” Qian Jiaoniang spoke at the same time as he did.
Xing Muzheng nodded.
Qian Jiaoniang stiffened. She asked him stiffly, “Then… what did you hear?” Did she moan just now? Did she call for her mother in her dream—or did she actually say it aloud?
“What should I have heard?” Xing Muzheng countered calmly.
Qian Jiaoniang had no words. She honestly couldn’t tell dream from reality anymore. All she knew was that the hand patting her back was real—and that hand belonged to Xing Muzheng. How could she have craved the tenderness he gave her? She must’ve been delirious. Qian Jiaoniang looked away, avoiding his gaze.
Xing Muzheng didn’t say anything either. He sat back in his chair and simply looked at her.
“Mother! Mother, are you alright?!” came Xing Pingchun’s loud voice from the door. Before Qian Jiaoniang could even lift her head, he had already burst in.
“Reckless,” Xing Muzheng frowned, glancing at his son.
“Father?” Xing Pingchun spotted Xing Muzheng and let out a breath of relief. “You really are here with Mother. I came to look for her just now, and Uncle Yong said you were with her.”
Qian Jiaoniang sat up and waved him over, asking where he had been during the bandit attack and whether he was hurt. Xing Pingchun answered honestly: he’d been on the bow of the ship stargazing and didn’t even know anything was happening until Wang Yong pulled him to the ground. Only afterward did he find out there had been an attack.
Qian Jiaoniang broke out in a cold sweat hearing this. Thankfully Wang Yong was nearby—what if a stray arrow had hit Xing Pingchun? She touched her son’s face with relief, then glanced behind him and saw Dongsheng and Hongjuan standing at the door. She asked urgently, “Where’s Qingya?” Logically, Qingya should’ve come to check on her too. Why wasn’t she here?
Hongjuan stepped inside, looking troubled. “Madam, Miss Qingya isn’t doing well.”
“What happened?” Could it be she got hit by a stray arrow?
“I… I don’t know either. I was with Miss Qingya looking for a hand warmer. We had just come up when we heard someone shouting ‘assassins’. Lord Ah Da told us to hide, so we ducked into the corner of the stairs. But that’s when Miss Qingya started trembling. I thought she was just scared and kept trying to comfort her, but she didn’t seem to hear anything I said. Later, after the ship relit the lamps, I wanted to help her out, but she just kept shrinking into the corner, trembling, and wouldn’t let me touch her. I didn’t know what to do, so I came to report to you.”
Upon hearing this, Qian Jiaoniang hastily threw off her covers and began getting dressed, but the sudden movement made her waist and abdomen ache terribly. She paused for a moment to recover.
Xing Muzheng pressed her back down and picked up her cloak to wrap around her. Then—without warning—he scooped her into his arms.
Qian Jiaoniang was startled and instinctively clutched his shoulder—but it was so broad she could only manage to grip his cloak.
“What are you doing?” Her pale face gained a faint blush under all those eyes.
“I’m carrying you there,” Xing Muzheng replied succinctly. Before she could object, he added, “Or stay here and wait for her to come to you.”
Qian Jiaoniang opened her mouth, but Xing Muzheng’s words blocked anything she might have said. She tried to get down on her own, but normally she couldn’t overpower him, let alone now when she was weak and weary.
“Marquis, I’m just a little tired—not so precious,” she said.
“If you’re not going, then behave and wait in the cabin.” Xing Muzheng remained unmoved, threatening her calmly.
Dongsheng blushed—so this was how much the Marquis doted on his wife.
Qian Jiaoniang, intent on checking on Qingya, held her tongue. Xing Muzheng braced one arm under her hips, and Qian Jiaoniang stiffened. As he carried her out, he ducked slightly under the doorframe and used his other hand to shield her head from hitting it.
Qian Jiaoniang clutched his cloak a little tighter. Xing Muzheng said, “I won’t drop you.”
Qian Jiaoniang didn’t reply.
Hongjuan quickly led them to Qingya—not far off, just in the stairwell corner. Qingya was bent over a wooden bucket, vomiting violently, her body trembling. Suier and Ah Da stood nearby, completely at a loss.
Alarmed, Qian Jiaoniang pushed Xing Muzheng to let her down, yanked off her own cloak, and threw it over Qingya. “What happened?” She wrapped her arms around her—she had never seen Qingya like this before.
Before she could finish the question, a warm weight fell on her shoulders, accompanied by a masculine scent. Qian Jiaoniang turned her head and realized that Xing Muzheng’s cloak was now gone.
Suier quickly stepped forward to fasten Xing Muzheng’s cloak on Qian Jiaoniang.
Qingya lifted her head. Her complexion was even paler than Qian Jiaoniang’s. Her lips and teeth trembled uncontrollably along with her whole body. Suier brought her a cup of hot water. Qingya rinsed her mouth and drank a sip, but the shaking didn’t stop.
“What’s going on? Come, let’s go back to the room. Suier, get some hot coals for her and bring in a hand warmer!” Qian Jiaoniang mustered her strength and pulled Qingya to her feet.
With Qian Jiaoniang’s help, Qingya returned to her room. Qian Jiaoniang held her hand the whole way—their hands cold like ice. Only after being placed over the hand warmer did they start to thaw.
Eventually, Qingya stopped shaking. She exhaled deeply and gave Qian Jiaoniang a pained smile and a shake of the head. “Some things… really do cling like nightmares and shadows.”
But Qingya never did speak of the nightmare-like past that haunted her, and Qian Jiaoniang didn’t ask. The two lay on the same bed, keeping each other warm.
The next day, their journey by boat went smoothly. Qian Jiaoniang stayed lazily in bed all day. The louchuan followed the current down the Guan River and merged into the Minghu River. The Minghu River was a major river in the State of Xie; the people on both banks prospered by its waters, and the entire Minghu region was known as a land of fish and rice because of it. Normally, the journey from Yuzhou to Minghu Prefecture would take seven or eight days, but unexpectedly, they reached it in just three by boat.
After two days of bed rest and being nursed with Dr. Bai’s medicinal decoctions, Qian Jiaoniang felt much better. She had never been one to enjoy lying down. Once she felt the slightest bit better, she wanted to get up. As she was putting on her shoes, she saw Dr. Bai come in with another bowl of medicine. She smiled and said, “Dr. Bai, I’m fine today. I don’t need any more medicine.”
Dr. Bai said, “Madam, this pain-relief decoction can indeed be stopped. But the one for nourishing and regulating your qi and blood must be taken for another three months—only then can the root of your illness be cured.”
Qian Jiaoniang stared, eyes wide. “Three more months?”
But Qingya interjected, “Dr. Bai, didn’t you say the qi-tonifying decoction wasn’t available until we got off the boat? Why are you giving it to Madam now?”
Dr. Bai chuckled. “Ah, it was because two of the ingredients are quite rare, and I didn’t bring them aboard with the rest of the usual herbs. But the Marquis, concerned about Madam’s condition, somehow managed to obtain them that very night and asked me to prepare the formula.”
Qian Jiaoniang was momentarily stunned.
Speak of the devil—and in he came. Xing Muzheng pushed the door open and entered. Dr. Bai hurriedly saluted and patted their chest in secret—thank goodness she hadn’t spoken ill of the Marquis. Xing Muzheng scanned the room, his gaze landing on Qian Jiaoniang. “You’re out of bed already? Then drink your medicine and come out.”
“For what?” Qian Jiaoniang asked.
Xing Muzheng gave a flat reply: “To see the tide.”
Watching the tides at Minghu was the liveliest event in the region, and tide-riding was the most glorious feat for the young men there. During the great tides of the seventh and eighth lunar months, both banks of the Minghu River would be packed with people, drums and gongs sounding to cheer for the spectacle. But now it was late autumn—though tides still came, they were small. In such cold weather, no one would be out riding them. Xing Muzheng merely wanted to show Qian Jiaoniang something new. He thought, if she liked it, he’d bring her back next year to see the full tide.
Before he finished speaking, a thunderous cannon blast erupted outside the ship.
