Chapter Thirty-Two: The Midnight Assassin Boards the Ship

Leaves fell in a flurry; the silent moon cast its glow on shadows, and the verdant waters of the Jialing River carried a touch of elegance as they met the boundless, surging torrent of the great river. At first, there was grandeur and whirling eddies, but soon, quietly and imperceptibly, the waters merged into the mighty stream, flowing eastward with awe-inspiring momentum.

Lu Liao stood at the dock of Nanping County, a scripture in hand, his mood heavy and troubled. He had felt proud and spirited when he made his grand vow, but reality’s hardships often left one dejected and battered.

The roads of Shu were said to be harder than ascending to the heavens, yet Lu Liao now felt that entering officialdom was even harder than reaching the sky.

Though he had the status of a local scholar in his youth, his studies had since veered toward the arts of strategy and persuasion from the School of Ghost Valley. In this era dominated by Confucianism, there was little hope for advancement except by blending in. He lacked a masterpiece to impress the powerful, and his poetry labored under the shadow of the legendary Taibai. Was his only option to take the Mingjing exam? Thirty for Mingjing, fifty for Jinshi—what future awaited those who emerged from the Mingjing?

Upon learning of Lu Liao’s decision to take next year’s Spring Imperial Examination, he was excused from all chores except reading. Monk Wuhua and the two young ladies sold their carriage and bought supplies for the river journey, approaching with cheerful smiles.

“Your face looks so grim; what’s wrong?” Tang Xiaoqi, now cautious and deferential to the master preparing for the Spring Examination, asked gently.

Lu Liao sighed, “I realize now that becoming a disciple of Master Taibai was a mistake, and memorizing his poetry was an even greater one.”

Seeing the three utterly confused faces, Lu Liao shook his head and asked, “Is our cabin booked?”

“All settled—two fine cabins, daily meals included, but it’s a bit pricey.” Tang Xiaoqi was both excited and a little distressed.

For reasons unknown, Lu Liao suddenly thought, with a hint of amusement, that the charming monk Wuhua would no longer be able to meet the young nun Luoluo at night. His mood improved inexplicably.

“Haha, it doesn’t matter. Spending more is fine; I absolutely won’t let you two delicate young ladies stay in those filthy common rooms.”

The passenger ship drifted downstream, swift as wind, covering miles in moments. After half a day’s journey, they saw sheer cliffs on both shores, exotic pines and cypresses jutting out, waterfalls cascading between them. The forests were cold and the ravines solemn; high apes howled, their cries echoing through empty valleys, lingering mournfully. Standing at the bow, the group felt both thrill and exhilaration, sometimes screaming in excitement, yet none would miss the beauty of the riverbanks or the sheer joy of the journey.

Lu Liao’s spirits surged, and he could not help but want to recite poetry. He waved his folding fan for ages, but failed to utter a single line. Beside him, Tang Xiaoqi’s face was pale as she vomited with abandon. Not far away, a young gentleman in fine clothing, guarded by two robust attendants, gripped the ship’s railing and echoed Tang Xiaoqi’s suffering.

Tang Xiaoqi, weak and pale, leaned heavily on Lu Liao, refusing at all costs to enter the stuffy cabins, preferring to vomit in the breeze by the rail. No matter how ill she felt, as long as Lu Liao was there to rely on, she endured.

One attendant produced a delicate porcelain bottle, letting the young gentleman sniff it. After a while, he seemed much relieved, and, seeing Tang Xiaoqi’s misery, walked over in sympathetic camaraderie.

“This must be your first voyage, miss? The river’s currents are fierce and the winds strong. She cannot go on vomiting like this; it’s best for her to rest in the cabin.”

Before Lu Liao could reply, Tang Xiaoqi shook her head with all her might. Lu Liao gave an apologetic smile and shook his head in resignation.

“I have some medicine here; after using it myself, I felt much better. If you don’t mind, perhaps the young lady could try it.”

Seeing Tang Xiaoqi so distressed and the gentleman so courteous, Lu Liao did not stand on ceremony. “Thank you for your help, brother. Lu Liao from Yangzhou is grateful.”

He took the porcelain bottle and had Tang Xiaoqi inhale its scent for a while, ignoring her pitiful gaze, then helped her into the cabin, leaving the young nun Luoluo to care for her, before returning to thank the gentleman.

“I am Luo Dianyang from Xichang County, Mianzhou, a local scholar. I am traveling to participate in the Autumn Imperial Examination in Luoyang. You seem distinguished, brother Lu—are you also attending the Luoyang exam?”

During the Tianbao era, the Imperial Examination emphasized poetry and prose; to become a Jinshi required outstanding talent. Lu Liao, far from aiming for Jinshi, had to relearn even the basics for Mingjing and had no confidence in the autumn exam.

“I am a scholar from Jinshui County, Yangzhou, away from home for some time. I plan to return, marry my betrothed, then participate in the Spring Imperial Examination in Chang’an. For this autumn’s grand contest, I am not prepared and will not attend.”

Lu Liao smiled, not wishing to lose face.

“Haha! With such a peerless beauty as your fiancée, naturally you would choose to attain minor success before greater glory. Let me congratulate you on your double happiness.” Luo Dianyang laughed in jest.

“And I wish you swift success in the spring, may your horse gallop through Luoyang, seeing all its blossoms in a day,” Lu Liao replied with a smile.

The two took a liking to each other and laughed heartily.

In the Three Gorges region, ships could not travel at night. The captain anchored early in a gentle eddy, awaiting dawn. The clear current and green pool reflected the moon, as if a crescent boat floated on the waves.

Such a beautiful, tranquil place, and meeting a kindred spirit in another scholar—how could they not enjoy the moon, drink wine, play music, and compose poetry? A large basin of braised river puffer, a few steamed carp, and plates of seasonal vegetables—the food on this passenger ship was truly excellent. Lu Liao and the newly acquainted Luo Dianyang exchanged cups, discussing history, anecdotes, customs, and local lore, thoroughly delighted.

Tang Xiaoqi, though weak and without appetite, insisted on sitting at Lu Liao’s side. Introduced as his fiancée, she was overwhelmed with happiness that lingered long after.

Monk Wuhua, elegant and charming, was instantly likable. His drinking and eating meat, though contrary to monastic vows, were seen as marks of a great monk. Only the unfortunate young nun Luoluo, pitiable, played the zither to entertain everyone.

The bearded captain Hu and his crew watched Tang Xiaoqi and Luoluo furtively, eyes filled with lust and urgency.

As the cook Zhou Liuzi approached with a large bowl of fish soup, Captain Hu took up a fish fork and, with his knife-wielding crew, strode steadily toward the group.

“Gentlemen, how is the puffer fish? Did you know, eating it with the skin makes it even tastier,” Captain Hu asked with a smile, seemingly polite.

Wuhua rose to shield the young nun. Luo Dianyang was surprised but not flustered; his two guards stood firm. Zhou Liuzi, carrying the fish soup, trembled so violently he almost spilled it. Only Lu Liao took the opportunity to pull Tang Xiaoqi into his arms, picking up a piece of puffer fish with skin.

“The captain says it’s better this way; you should try it.”

Captain Hu blinked his round eyes—was this fellow a fool? Could he not see the fierce river pirates and their gleaming knives? How could such a celestial beauty end up with a fool?

For the sake of the beauty, Captain Hu decided to forgive the fool, grinning lasciviously. “If it’s good, eat more. Fill up so you’re ready to travel. That little beauty in your arms, Captain Hu will take good care of her for you.”

“Does the captain plan to serve me knife noodles or dumplings? Knife noodles hurt, dumplings let you die whole but take a long time, suffocating. It’s a tough choice.”

Lu Liao scratched his head as if truly troubled.

“No rush, take your time. When the moment comes, Captain Hu will give you a swift end. But I won’t be so patient with the monk. You became a monk, fine, but how did you lure such a delicate beauty to be a nun? Where’s the law, where’s the justice? Will you jump or must I help you?”

Captain Hu had long disliked Monk Wuhua.

“Amitabha! Self-harm is against the precepts; I cannot do it,” Wuhua said, hands pressed together.

“Precepts? Damn your precepts! Drinking, eating meat, holding nuns—isn’t that breaking the precepts? Boys, cut down that stinking monk!” Captain Hu roared in anger.

“Well said! I’ve long found that monk an eyesore,” Lu Liao shouted, clapping.

Captain Hu glared, “Trying to please me won’t help. If you weren’t with a beauty, I might let you live a bit longer.”

Lu Liao cast a resentful look at Tang Xiaoqi in his arms, “A calamity—since ancient times, beauties bring disaster!”

“If you can’t handle it, don’t bring a pretty girl. Come here, girl, Captain Hu will cherish you; no one will dare harm you,” Captain Hu sneered.

Lu Liao’s face twisted into a strange smile. “You’re mistaken—she’s a calamity, yes, but the disaster will fall on you.”

In the blink of an eye, there came several muffled thuds. Captain Hu and his crew collapsed, blood streaming from their mouths, eyes, ears, and noses, motionless, clearly beyond saving.

The monk, seemingly harmless, struck with ruthless skill. His prowess surpassed even his sister Xihua.

The dumbstruck Zhou Liuzi suddenly shrieked, “Murder! Murder!” The bowl of fish soup dropped as a knife flashed toward Luo Dianyang’s throat, light as a feather.

Like a chef killing a chicken or a butcher slaughtering a sheep, it was natural and unremarkable, yet utterly inescapable.

The guards, swift as they were, could not intervene in time. Luo Dianyang’s face was pale, eyes filled with despair.

Zhou Liuzi appeared calm—he was a top-tier assassin in the shadows, and such scenes had happened too many times. The blood spraying from throats once made him vomit, disgusted, enthralled; now he felt only numbness.

Even when his wrist and the knife fell to the floor, he didn’t react, merely gazed dreamily at the blood blossoming under the moonlight, feeling for the first time in ages that it was beautiful.