Wang Qianhu asked, “How many lifeboats are on the ship?”

The ship captain trembled as he said, “Tw… two.”

Wang Qianhu asked again, “What’s the maximum number of people one boat can hold?”

The ship captain said, “Squeezed together, it can hold eight people.”

Wang Qianhu quickly calculated the number of people on board and told everyone, “The lifeboats can only seat sixteen people, but we have thirty. I’ll stay here. The rest will draw lots to decide who boards the boats.”

Five trusted subordinates and the ship captain immediately decided to forgo the lottery.

The remaining people lined up to draw lots. When it was five-and-a-half-year-old Wang Daqiu’s turn, he innocently reached his hand into the box.

Wang Qianhu’s heart felt like it was being stabbed with knives. He turned his face away, not daring to look at his youngest son.

An advisor who had drawn boarding rights grabbed Wang Daqiu and said to his companions, “Everyone, a child doesn’t take up much space. He only weighs forty-some pounds – I’ll hold him and we’ll board together, counting as one person. If the boat really can’t carry us while traveling on water, I’ll jump into the Yangtze and give him my spot. How about it?”

Wang Daqiu boarded the lifeboat this way. Wang Qianhu said to his youngest son, “Do you remember hide and seek? Don’t cry – bad people like the sound of crying. If you cry, the bad people will find you. Go to the capital, to Sweet Water Lane, and find your big brother.”

Wang Qianhu gave his youngest son a short dagger: “Take this for protection. Stabbing bad people doesn’t count as wrongdoing.”

Wang Daqiu’s mouth opened as if to cry, but remembering his father’s first instruction, he covered his mouth with both hands, not daring to make a sound. Tears just swirled in his eyes.

Wang Qianhu painfully turned away, no longer looking at his youngest son, and went to the deck’s gun platform. Thirteen people on deck adjusted the gun platforms’ positions to escort the two lifeboats to safety.

Wang Qianhu’s large official ship was sinking and couldn’t move, like a sitting duck. The pirate ships divided into two groups – two large ships bombarded the immobilized official ship while launching six small boats to chase the lifeboats, constantly firing guns and shooting arrows at the escape boats.

The ship’s hull was sinking like an overturned turtle, belly up, at everyone’s mercy. With river water below and cannon fire above, the large official ship was repeatedly hit by artillery. Severed limbs and wood fragments splattered across Wang Qianhu’s body.

The pirate ships drew closer and closer. Pirates on board rubbed their hands together eagerly, shouting, “Hurry up! This is a big fat fish! Any slower and the ship will sink – we won’t be able to steal anything!”

When Wang Qianhu was a commander at the Northern District Military Command, capturing bandits and maintaining order in the northern district, he had never encountered such powerful enemies. He adjusted the cannon’s angle, lit the fuse, and fired.

Boom!

This time he finally hit the target.

Wang Qianhu quickly used a swab to clean gunpowder residue from the cannon barrel, loaded ammunition, and continued firing.

A gunshot rang out. Wang Qianhu felt his neck itch – something was blocking his windpipe. He instantly 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 airway.

But it was useless. The bullet had pierced through his neck, and blood flowed endlessly into his windpipe.

Another gunshot. This time it hit his chest. Wang Qianhu fell backward on the deck. Through the gaps between the masts, he saw one lifeboat capsizing in the rolling river waters, while another boat was still struggling to escape ahead, pursued by six boats getting farther and farther away.

His vision grew blurry. The lifeboat looked like a fallen leaf floating on the water’s surface. White mist rose from the river, and everything before his eyes turned black.

Pirates jumped onto the ship like swarms of fleas. “Don’t pick the pockets of dead men, you idiots! Go to the cargo hold, move quickly! The informant said this official ship was borrowed by Santong Bank – it looks like a ship carrying returning officials, but it’s actually selling dog meat under a sheep’s head, with the cargo hold full of silver.”

“That’s not right – if it were all silver, the boxes couldn’t be this light. Open them and see!”

“It’s all fabric and local products from Jiangxi – dried chicken, dried bamboo shoots. Not a single box of silver. We’ve been fooled by the informant!”

“Boss, there’s an official seal here! This isn’t a silver ship! This really is an official ship!”

“Right! This bastard is actually an honest official! Not a drop of oil to be squeezed!”

“Boss, we robbed the wrong ship!”

“A thief never leaves empty-handed – we can’t come for nothing. Load it up anyway, the ship’s sinking. Pick up the firearms on deck – we’ll need them when attacking county towns.”

In the capital, on the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, it was time to drink Laba porridge again.

Thanks to the little prince’s favor, Prince Yu’s mansion received Emperor Jiajing’s gift of porridge today. Although Emperor Jiajing still wouldn’t see his grandson, wouldn’t give him a name, and hadn’t even granted him the princely title he deserved, the gift of porridge showed that Emperor Jiajing still remembered he had a grandson.

Court ministers repeatedly submitted memorials requesting the establishment of an heir, but when the memorials reached the Ceremonial Directorate, the head eunuch only had Chen Jingji, who was responsible for documents, copy and file them – not one was sent to the imperial presence.

What the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over. As long as I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist. By year’s end, Emperor Jiajing had fallen ill. At his age, getting sick was nothing unusual, but he insisted it was because of the little prince’s birth, making him even more averse to establishing an heir.

Huang Jin understood the emperor’s temperament. If he saw ten memorials and eight were about establishing an heir, he would probably fly into a rage, ordering beatings and dismissals. With New Year approaching, it was better not to make trouble.

Moreover, the ninth day of the twelfth month was the memorial day of his milk brother Lu Bing. The gloom on Emperor Jiajing’s face was deeper than storm clouds – who dared touch the dragon’s reverse scales!

Seeing Emperor Jiajing in a bad mood, Huang Jin went to Yude Palace to request an audience with Shang Zhaoyi, hoping she could come out and comfort Emperor Jiajing. Only she had this ability now.

But upon entering the great hall, he smelled medicine. Shang Qinglan was also ill and had summoned seventh-rank Medicine Administrator Wei Caiwei into the palace for treatment.

Shang Qinglan lay in bed with a medicinal plaster on her forehead: “Elder sir comes at just the right time. I don’t know why I’ve had headaches these past few days and can’t attend His Majesty. I’m afraid of passing illness to His Majesty when his health has just recovered. Please trouble yourself to tell His Majesty not to come see me. Once I recover my health, I’ll go accompany His Majesty for New Year.”

Huang Jin asked Wei Caiwei, “What illness does Lady Zhaoyi have?”

Wei Caiwei showed Huang Jin the pulse diagnosis she had just written: “Stagnant qi causing headaches. I estimate it’s from excessive worry when His Majesty was ill some days ago. Now that His Majesty has recovered, Your Ladyship needn’t worry – it should improve in a few days.”

After sending Huang Jin away, Shang Qinglan tore off the plaster from her forehead: “I knew Eunuch Huang would come asking me to ‘put out fires’ again, so I summoned you into the palace to help me ‘cheat.’ In this Forbidden City, doing more leads to more mistakes, doing less leads to fewer mistakes, doing nothing leads to no mistakes. When His Majesty is in a bad mood, I’m not a deity who can make him happy every time.”

“Accompanying the ruler is like accompanying a tiger. Eunuch Huang also fears His Majesty’s anger, so he pushes me forward. I push back with illness and will wait until Loyal Count’s memorial day passes. You need to cover for me in the palace.”

Wei Caiwei’s seventh-rank official status was given to her by Shang Qinglan as a dowry through opportunistic maneuvering, so she naturally gave full support to Shang Qinglan’s “illness.” She cooperated by prescribing medicines, though bowl after bowl was secretly poured away while maintaining the appearance of real illness.

Shang Qinglan was “ill” for five days. When she heard Emperor Jiajing was in the mood to go out and admire wintersweet blossoms, she “recovered.”

Shang Qinglan bestowed many more generous gifts: “In a few more days you’ll be married. I won’t summon you to the palace again – focus on preparing for your wedding at home.”

“After New Year, on the fifteenth of the first month during the Lantern Festival, I’ll drag His Majesty out of the palace to view the lanterns. We’ll ‘happen’ to pass by your new home and go in for tea and to warm ourselves by the fire. You newlyweds mustn’t sleep too early that night.”

Wei Caiwei heard the teasing in Shang Qinglan’s words but pretended not to understand: “The Lantern Festival has no curfew – staying up all night in revelry to send off the year. We won’t play until dawn, but we definitely won’t sleep early.”

Shang Qinglan thought: That’s what you think, but your groom won’t think so. A young man of that age…

After leaving the palace, Wei Caiwei found the streets muddy, with dirty snow mixed into soil, trampled back and forth by passersby buying New Year goods – filthy but lively.

Like all brides-to-be, Wei Caiwei mentally went through her dowry again and again, always feeling something was missing, wanting everything to be perfect.

When the carriage reached Gulou West Diagonal Street, she simply got off early to walk along the street and browse, buying anything that caught her fancy.

Soon she was carrying three paper packages. Passing a rouge shop, Wei Caiwei was about to go in and look when she suddenly heard the sound of horse hooves, scolding, and crying.

With New Year approaching, it was time for the capital’s Five Districts Military Commands to “clean” the streets. This cleaning wasn’t sweeping streets but driving out vagrants who had no homes in the city. Most survived by begging, and every New Year, to keep them out of sight of officials, the Five Districts Military Commands were ordered to drive vagrants outside the city.

The Northern District Military Command was no exception. Besides maintaining order during street patrols, they captured vagrants, locked them in prison carts, and transported them outside the city. There were people providing soup and charitable shelters set up outside the city to house vagrants – they wouldn’t eat their fill but wouldn’t starve either.

One disheveled little vagrant, taking advantage of his small frame, actually squeezed through the gaps in the prison cart bars after being captured!

He fell with a thud into the muddy slush of dirty snow, then got up and ran frantically.

“Catch him!” The Northern District Military Command men spurred their horses in pursuit. The little vagrant wore two mismatched broken shoes, obviously scavenged, and his two stick-thin legs couldn’t outrun four horse legs.

Fortunately, he was agile, his small frame weaving and dodging through the crowd. The cavalry chased half a street but couldn’t catch him.

Luckily reinforcements came. Three horses cornered the little vagrant at a rouge shop entrance.

The little vagrant tried to run inside to hide, but the shop owner, fearing trouble, quickly closed the door.

A cavalryman grabbed the little vagrant’s pants with one hand, planning to lay him across the horse’s back. When lifted up, the little vagrant struggled desperately, making “ah ah” sounds from his mouth – he seemed to be mute and couldn’t speak.

During the struggle, a scented pouch fell from his collar. The pouch’s end was tied with a string dirty to brick-red color, swaying in the air.

Scented pouches all looked similar, embroidered with the five poisons like spiders and scorpions, but Wei Caiwei caught a familiar scent. This was for repelling insects and snakes, typically worn from Dragon Boat Festival through summer. In winter when all things went dormant with no insects or snakes, no one wore such pouches.

Wei Caiwei studied the little vagrant. His face was covered in mud, filthy, wearing a torn jacket and cotton pants. The seams of the cotton pants legs were completely ripped, with cotton already spilling out at the ankles. His thin ankles looked like they would shatter with a squeeze.

Seeing her, the little vagrant became even more agitated, limbs flailing, his “ah” sounds turning to screams.

Wei Caiwei’s heart stirred. She said, “Let him go.”

There wasn’t anyone in the Northern District Military Command who didn’t know Wei Caiwei. Hearing her words, they released the little vagrant.

The little vagrant squatted on the ground, extended his claw-like dirty hands, and wrote the character “嫂” (sister-in-law) in the muddy ground, pointing at Wei Caiwei. Then he wrote “秋” (Qiu), pointing at himself.

Wei Caiwei’s heart shook. She quickly bought a pot of hot tea, dipped her handkerchief in the tea, and wiped the little vagrant’s face clean. Wang Daxia was somewhat feminine-looking, while his younger brother Wang Daqiu had resembled their father Wang Qianhu since infancy.

Wei Caiwei’s voice trembled: “Are you… Wang Daqiu?” The little vagrant nodded frantically.

Author’s Note: Wang Qianhu borrowed three years of life but still had to go. Daqiu is ill, not truly mute – everyone rest assured, I’m his real mother.