Once this boat drifted off, no one would know where she had gone; even if someone wished to rescue her, it would be impossible. Fang Xiong was a ruthless bandit. Once, when he caught the bandit who had wounded him with a hidden arrow, he gouged out his eyes and hacked off his limbs in front of everyone, then hung the man’s head on the stronghold gate. She had once saved his life, but when she refused to submit, he had still lashed her twice with the whip and locked her in the woodshed.
This man scarcely distinguished good from evil. Anyone with sense would not have abducted her in broad daylight the instant he saw her. He was a madman.
Most likely, she could not escape his clutches. Qian Jiaoniang clenched her teeth. Even if by some chance she managed to trick him again, they were surrounded by water, and all around were his men—there was nowhere to flee. Death, or bearing humiliation—only two paths lay before her. And just as Fang Xiong had said: since she had already been dragged into the bandit’s lair, guilty or not, she was already stained. In the eyes of the world, she was no longer pure; she could no longer even be the wife of a commoner, let alone the wife of a marquis. Only pity for her Chou’er—just when he had begun to taste a few good days, calamity had struck.
Xing Muzheng… for some reason, Qian Jiaoniang thought of Xing Muzheng. Her gaze flickered, her thoughts wavered like rippling water beneath the boat. After a long while, even she did not know what she was thinking.
Perhaps… to him, this was a good thing. So Qian Jiaoniang thought.
“Brothers, once everything’s packed, move out quick! Those boarding, get on the boat—our destination is Qingning Town, Juzhou!”
Fang Xiong’s loud voice snapped Qian Jiaoniang back to herself. She now knew their destination—but she had no idea where Qingning Town was. She only knew Juzhou was in the direction of Yongan, and further downstream was Minghu. Xing Muzheng had ordered Bao Li to summon the Minghu navy as reinforcements… perhaps they might encounter them along the way…
The pleasure barge rocked violently as Fang Xiong strode in with seven or eight men. The female bandit quickly said:
“Boss, are we really going to Juzhou? Didn’t Bao Black Fat say this time the Minghu navy had been called in to encircle us? If we head that way, won’t we be walking right into the trap?”
Fang Xiong waved his hand carelessly. “What’s the rush? Without ** days, they won’t be able to come down!” He rubbed his stomach. “I’m hungry. Hurry up and bring me two steamed buns, and two jars of wine!”
Qian Jiaoniang pulled her thoughts back. The most urgent matter was surviving and escaping from Fang Xiong.
The pleasure boat she was on, together with another five or six boats of various types, followed the torrent beneath the waterfall, quickly sliding out of Wuling Mountain, and in no time passed beyond Jiangzi’s borders. Fang Xiong drank off and on from noon until night. His men somehow brought over a few dishes of side food, and Fang Xiong sprawled on the couch of the pleasure boat like some libertine young master, calling one of his concubines to pour his wine and serve him food. Only his wolfishly hungry eyes were fixed straight on Qian Jiaoniang.
Though she didn’t look at Fang Xiong, she knew he was watching her. She acted as though unaware, sitting sideways at the boat’s window, gazing outside. She seemed to be admiring the scenery, but in truth her mind was busy with thoughts of escape.
The female bandit disguised as a maid was named Guihua. She was not one of Fang Xiong’s concubines—he disdained her small chest and refused to take her in, though in her heart she loved him. The more she loved him, the angrier she became now. She could clearly see what Fang Xiong thought of the Dingxi Marchioness, and it drove her mad. That lady’s chest was no bigger than hers—why would he prefer her!
Guihua glared at Fang Xiong with hatred, but Fang Xiong’s gaze remained fixed on Qian Jiaoniang. Guihua seethed so hard she nearly collapsed, and finally, in a fury, ran out into the cold night air.
Three jars of wine later, night had fallen. Fang Xiong’s words had become slurred, but his eyes seemed rooted in Qian Jiaoniang, burning hotter and more reckless. He slammed his wine cup down and waved his hand.
“All of you, get outside! Hang up the lanterns—make it lively for me!”
A pleasure boat in silence would indeed seem suspicious. These bandits were not strangers to fleeing, and at their leader’s command, they pulled out brocade robes and long skirts from a nearby chest, the women sticking hairpins in their hair and taking up lutes and small drums. They filed out one by one, hanging great red lanterns fore and aft of the boat. Before long, the sound of the lute mingled with laughter floated in. It almost looked convincing.
But Qian Jiaoniang only felt her heart grow cold. The more real they made it seem, the harder it would be for outsiders to suspect anything.
“What the h*ll are you staring at in the dark outside?” Fang Xiong suddenly plopped down beside Qian Jiaoniang, gripping her chin to force her face toward him. “Still thinking of running?”
She slapped his hand away and rolled her eyes at him. “All four sides are water. Why don’t you try running for me and let me see?”
Fang Xiong chuckled foolishly, letting out a wine hiccup. He rubbed the hand she had struck, feeling a strange tingling pleasure. Hiccuping again, his tongue thick, he said, “Woman, so long as you don’t run, it’s fine. Stop dreaming of going back to be a Marchioness—that’s not your fate! Your fate is with me!”
Qian Jiaoniang said nothing.
He went on: “And stop thinking about that brat of yours. Later, we’ll have children of our own. However many you want to bear, you’ll bear!”
Still, she didn’t speak, only kept looking out the window.
With any other woman, such lack of appreciation would have earned her a slap long ago. But tonight Fang Xiong was truly in high spirits. In his heart, she was his only woman—they had bowed to heaven and earth together, after all. She had almost killed him, and even fled from him. He was angry, yes! But even in his anger, he had never thought of killing her. All he wanted was for her to stay by his side, to care for him gently again as she had when he was wounded. The memory alone set his chest burning hot. In recent years he had even wondered—had those two lashes scared her so badly, she’d risked her life to escape? He regretted it. His temper often drove him to hit people, but he’d only meant to frighten her, to crush her hopes. Who would have thought she’d really run?
Though he didn’t say it aloud, Fang Xiong was truly remorseful after all these years. “Woman, all these years, I’ve thought of you without cease.” He had even thought of her so obsessively it was like an inner fire consuming him. Whenever a girl or young wife passed by on the mountain, he would look, always wondering if it might be her.
Qian Jiaoniang sneered. “There isn’t a single man’s word in this world worth trusting.”
Seeing her doubt, Fang Xiong raised his huge palm like a fan. “It’s true! I swear to Heaven. I really have missed you, missed you desperately!”
At last she spared him a glance. “Missed me desperately, yet one concubine to your left, one concubine to your right, one inside your house, and two more living outside?”
Fang Xiong grinned. “That was only because you weren’t here! If you don’t like it, tomorrow I’ll send them all away!”
She looked at him for a while, then said lightly, “I don’t believe you.”
“I, Fang Xiong, say one is one and two is two. How could you not believe me?” Fang Xiong grew anxious, ready to swear another oath.
Only then did Qian Jiaoniang seem half-convinced. “Really?”
“Of course it’s true!”
She fell silent for a moment, then smoothed the windblown strands of hair at her temples and said faintly, “I have one great flaw as a person—I cannot bear men who cling to women left and right. So even in the Marquis’s household, though I ate better and wore finer clothes, I wasn’t happy. XIng Muzheng’s courtyard had too many people; it vexed me. Were it not for my son, I would have left long ago. Now that you’ve captured me… I can never go back to the Marquis’s household. I suffer, yet I don’t suffer. I know you have me in your heart, otherwise you wouldn’t have thought of me all these years. Only, this flaw of mine can’t be changed. Xing Muzheng is a Marquis, I couldn’t control him. But you, a bandit—would you be willing to let me have my way in this? If you are, then I’ll be with you.”
Fang Xiong had many women, and he knew well enough that women could be jealous. But he hadn’t thought that the one he fancied most was the most jealous of all. Did she mean that from now on, besides her, he couldn’t touch any other woman? Fang Xiong hesitated.
“What? You’re unwilling?”
Qian Jiaoniang shot him a sidelong glance, her eyes brimming with charm. Most of his heart melted. He had slaughtered countless people, and his companions all said he was heartless, loveless. But only he knew—in his heart he kept that girl who had once resolutely sucked poison from his wound in a mountain cave. She was the softest cotton in the depths of his heart.
“Yes! Yes, I’m willing!” Fang Xiong felt a great strength in him with nowhere to go, and could only promise her over and over.
Qian Jiaoniang was amused by his foolishness. She burst into a laugh, bright as spring blossoms.
Fang Xiong was stunned, breathing heavily. Then he pounced, pressing her down. “Woman, be mine!” His heartbeat raced, his head buried against her neck, biting and sucking. He was just about to kiss her face—when a pale hand blocked him.
“You trying to get yourself killed, making a fuss on the boat?” Qian Jiaoniang scolded him. “At least wait till we’re ashore and inside a house!”
The fierce words, when spoken by this woman of his, somehow came out soft and sweet. Fang Xiong’s whole body went weak, yet with the wine surging through him he was unbearably restless. Just as he was torn between impulse and restraint, Guihua burst in shouting: “Chief! There are many ships ahead!”
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