Wang Commander asked, "How many escape boats are on the ship?"
The boatmaster trembled and said, "T-two."
Wang Commander asked again, "How many people can one boat hold at most?"
The boatmaster replied, "If we squeeze in, it can fit eight people."
Wang Commander quickly calculated the number of people on board and said to everyone, "The escape boats can only seat sixteen people, but we have thirty. I will stay here, and the rest will draw lots to decide who gets on the boats."
Immediately, five trusted aides and the boatmaster decided to forgo the lottery.
The remaining people lined up to draw lots. When it was the turn of five-and-a-half-year-old Wang Daqiu, he cluelessly reached his hand into the box.
Wang Commander felt as if his heart were being torn apart. He turned his face away, unable to bear looking at his young son.
An advisor who had drawn the right to board the boat grabbed Wang Daqiu and said to his companions, "Everyone, a child doesn't take up much space. He only weighs about forty-some pounds. I'll hold him and board the boat with him, counting as one person. If the boat really can't handle the load while on the water, I'll jump into the Yangtze River and give him my spot. How about that?"
And so, Wang Daqiu boarded the escape boat. Wang Commander said to his young son, "Do you remember playing hide-and-seek? Don't cry. Bad people love the sound of crying. If you cry, they'll find you. Go to the capital, Sweetwater Lane, and find your eldest brother."
Wang Commander gave his young son a short dagger. "Take this for self-defense. Stabbing bad people is not wrong."
Wang Daqiu's lips trembled as he was about to cry, but remembering his father's first instruction, he covered his mouth with both hands, not daring to make a sound, though tears welled up in his eyes.
Wang Commander, suppressing his grief, turned away and did not look at his son again. He went to the deck gun emplacement, where thirteen people were adjusting the gun's position to cover the two lifeboats' escape.
The large official ship Wang Commander was on was sinking and immobilized, like a living target. The Japanese pirate ships split into two groups: two large ships fired cannons relentlessly at the immobilized official ship, while simultaneously launching six small boats to chase the escape boats, continuously shooting guns and arrows at them.
The ship was sinking, like a turtle flipped onto its back, helpless and at the mercy of others. Below was the river, above was the cannon fire. The large official ship was repeatedly hit by cannonballs, and dismembered limbs and wooden fragments splattered onto Wang Commander.
The Japanese pirate ships drew closer. The pirates on board rubbed their hands in anticipation, shouting, "Hurry! This is a big, fat catch! If we're any slower, the ship will sink, and we'll get nothing!"
When Wang Commander served as the commander of the Northern City Military Command, he hunted down thieves and maintained order in the northern part of the city, but he had never encountered such a formidable enemy. He adjusted the cannon's muzzle, lit the fuse, and fired a shot.
Boom!
This time, it finally hit.
Wang Commander quickly wiped the residual gunpowder from the cannon barrel with a mop, reloaded, and continued firing.
A gunshot rang out. Wang Commander felt an itch in his neck, as if something was blocking his trachea. Instantly, he couldn't breathe, and the torch in his hand fell to the ground.
His hands involuntarily clawed at his neck, trying to dig out whatever was blocking his windpipe.
But it was no use. His neck had been pierced by a bullet, and blood was flowing into his trachea, endlessly.
Another gunshot. This time, it hit his chest. Wang Commander fell backward onto the deck. Through the gaps between the masts, he saw one of the escape boats capsizing in the turbulent river, while the other boat struggled to flee ahead, pursued by six ships, growing farther and farther away.His vision grew blurry. The escape boat drifted on the river like a fallen leaf, as a white mist rose over the water, plunging everything before him into darkness.
Japanese pirates swarmed aboard the ship like fleas. "Stop picking pockets from the corpses, you fools! Head to the cargo hold and start moving the goods! Our informant said this is an official ship borrowed by Three-Link Bank. It appears to be carrying returning officials, but it's a wolf in sheep's clothing—the hold is filled with silver."
"Something's wrong. If it were all silver, these crates wouldn't be so light. Open them up!"
"It's just fabrics and local products from Jiangxi—dried chickens, dried bamboo shoots. Not a single crate of silver! We've been tricked by the informant!"
"Boss, there's an official seal here! This isn't a silver ship! It really is an official vessel!"
"Damn it! This is a clean official! There's nothing to plunder!"
"Boss, we've attacked the wrong ship!"
"A thief never leaves empty-handed. We can't come all this way for nothing. Take what we can—the ship is sinking. Gather the firearms from the deck; they'll be useful when we attack the county town."
In the capital, on the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, it was time again for laba congee.
Thanks to the young imperial grandson, Prince Yu's residence received laba congee bestowed by the Jiajing Emperor. Although the emperor had never met his grandson, refused to name him, and denied him the princely title he deserved, the gift of congee showed that the emperor still remembered he had a grandson.
Court officials repeatedly submitted memorials urging the appointment of an heir apparent, but when these documents reached the Directorate of Ceremonial, Grand Eunuch Huang Jin simply had Chen Jingji, who handled paperwork, copy and archive them. Not a single memorial made it to the emperor.
Out of sight, out of mind. As long as I don't see it, it doesn't exist. As the year drew to a close, the Jiajing Emperor fell ill. At his age, illness was commonplace, but he insisted it was due to the birth of his grandson, growing even more averse to the idea of naming an heir.
Huang Jin understood the emperor's temper. If he saw that eight out of ten memorials were about appointing an heir, he would likely fly into a rage, ordering beatings and dismissals. With the New Year approaching, it was best not to stir up trouble.
Moreover, the ninth day of the twelfth month was the anniversary of the death of Lu Bing, the emperor's foster brother. The gloom on the emperor's face was darker than storm clouds. Who would dare provoke the dragon's reverse scales?
Seeing the emperor in low spirits, Huang Jin went to Yu De Palace to seek an audience with Consort Shang, hoping she could step in to soothe the emperor. Only she had such skill.
But upon entering the main hall, he was met with the scent of medicine. Shang Qinglan had also fallen ill and had summoned Wei Caiwei, the seventh-rank medical official, to treat her.
Shang Qinglan lay in bed, a medicinal plaster on her forehead. "You've come at the right time, old sir. I've had a headache these past two days and cannot attend to the emperor, for fear of passing my illness to him, especially since His Majesty has only just recovered. Please inform the emperor not to visit me. Once I've recuperated, I will join him for the New Year."
Huang Jin asked Wei Caiwei, "What ailment has afflicted Her Highness?"
Wei Caiwei showed him the newly completed medical record. "Stagnation of qi, leading to headaches. Likely caused by excessive worry over the emperor's recent illness. Now that His Majesty has recovered, Her Highness need not fret. She will be well in a few days."
After sending Huang Jin away, Shang Qinglan tore the plaster from her forehead. "I knew Eunuch Huang would come again to ask me to 'put out the fire,' so I summoned you to help me 'cheat.' In the Forbidden City, the more you do, the more mistakes you make; the less you do, the fewer mistakes; doing nothing means no mistakes. The emperor is in a foul mood, and I'm no immortal—I can't make him happy every time.""Keeping company with the sovereign is like keeping company with a tiger. Eunuch Huang also fears the Emperor's wrath, so he pushed me forward. I feigned illness, planning to wait until after Loyalty Earl's memorial day. You'll need to cover for me in the palace."
Wei Caiwei's seventh-rank official position had been opportunistically given to her by Shang Qinglan as part of her dowry, so of course she fully supported Shang Qinglan's "convalescence," even prescribing medicine - though every bowl was secretly poured out, making it appear she was genuinely ill.
After five days of "illness," upon hearing that the Jiajing Emperor was in the mood to go admire the winter plum blossoms, Shang Qinglan "recovered."
Shang Qinglan bestowed numerous generous gifts, saying, "In a few days you'll be married. I won't summon you to the palace anymore, so rest assured and prepare for your wedding at home."
"After the New Year, on the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth of the first month, I'll persuade the Emperor to leave the palace to see the lanterns. We'll 'happen' to pass by your new home, come in for some tea and to warm ourselves. You newlyweds better not go to bed too early."
Wei Caiwei detected the teasing in Shang Qinglan's words but pretended not to understand. "There's no curfew during the Lantern Festival. People stay up all night celebrating to send off the New Year. We probably won't stay up until dawn, but we'll certainly retire early."
Shang Qinglan thought to herself: That's what you think, but your groom won't see it that way. A young man his age...
When Wei Caiwei left the palace, the streets were muddy, dirty snow mixed with soil, trampled by crowds shopping for New Year's supplies - filthy yet bustling.
Like any bride-to-be, Wei Caiwei repeatedly mentally inventoried her dowry, always feeling something was missing, wanting everything to be perfect.
When her carriage reached Drum Tower West Diagonal Street, she decided to get off early and walk along the street, browsing to see if there was anything appealing to buy.
Soon she was carrying three paper packages. Passing by a rouge shop, just as she was about to enter, she suddenly heard the sound of hoofbeats, shouts, and crying.
With the New Year approaching, it was time for the capital's Five Cities Patrol Battalion to "clean up" the streets. This cleanup didn't mean sweeping, but rather driving out homeless refugees living in the city, most of whom survived by begging. Every New Year, to keep them out of the officials' sight, the Five Cities Patrol Battalion was ordered to drive these refugees outside the city walls.
The Northern City Military Command was no exception. Besides maintaining order during their patrols, they captured refugees, locked them in prison wagons for transport outside the city. Outside the walls, there were people distributing porridge and charitable sheds set up to house the refugees - not enough to be full, but enough to avoid starvation.
One small, disheveled young refugee, taking advantage of his slender build, actually managed to squeeze through the bars of the prison wagon after being captured!
He fell with a splash into the muddy slush, then scrambled up and started running for all he was worth.
"Grab him!" The Northern City Military Command soldiers spurred their horses in pursuit. The young refugee wore two mismatched worn-out shoes, clearly picked up somewhere, his two stick-thin legs no match for four-legged horses.
Fortunately, he was quick and agile, his small frame dodging and weaving through the crowd. The cavalry chased him half the street but still couldn't catch him.
Luckily, his companions came to assist. Three horses cornered the young refugee at the entrance of a rouge shop.
The young refugee tried to run inside for shelter, but the shop owner, afraid of trouble, quickly closed the door.
A cavalry soldier grabbed the young refugee by his pants, preparing to lay him across the horse's back to take him away. As he was lifted up, the young refugee struggled desperately, making "ah ah" sounds with his mouth - apparently mute, unable to speak.As he struggled, a scented sachet fell from his collar, dangling in the air by a brick-red stained rope tied to its end.
Most scented sachets looked similar, embroidered with the five poisonous creatures like spiders and scorpions. But Wei Caiwei caught a familiar scent—this was used to repel insects and snakes, typically worn from the Dragon Boat Festival through summer. In winter, when all things lay dormant with no insects or snakes around, no one would wear such a sachet.
Wei Caiwei examined the young vagrant. His face was smeared with mud, filthy from head to toe, dressed in a tattered padded jacket and torn cotton pants. The seams at the pant legs were ripped apart, the cotton stuffing around his ankles completely gone, revealing slender ankles so fragile they seemed ready to snap at a touch.
Upon seeing her, the young vagrant grew even more agitated, flailing his limbs wildly, his guttural cries escalating into sharp screams.
A thought struck Wei Caiwei. "Let him go," she said.
Everyone at the Northern City Military Command knew Wei Caiwei. At her words, they released the young vagrant.
The young vagrant crouched on the ground, extending his grimy, claw-like hand to write the character for "sister-in-law" in the muddy earth, pointing at Wei Caiwei. Then he wrote the character "autumn" (autumn), pointing at himself.
Wei Caiwei’s heart jolted. She quickly bought a pot of hot tea, dipped a handkerchief in it, and wiped the young vagrant’s face clean. Wang Daxia had somewhat feminine features, but his younger brother Wang Daqiu had resembled their father, Wang Commander, since infancy.
Her voice trembling, Wei Caiwei asked, "Are you... Wang Daqiu?" The young vagrant nodded frantically.
Author’s Note: Wang Commander borrowed three years of life, but still had to go in the end. Daqiu fell ill—he’s not truly mute, so rest assured, everyone. I’m a benevolent author.
OpenNovel