Fairy Town and Fairy River both derived their names from Fairy Gorge.
Fairy River wasn’t much wider than an ordinary river. Its surface remained calm, and boats sailed upon it as smoothly as traveling on land. During pleasant seasons, people from Luo Zhou city would often rent painted pleasure boats to tour the river—welcoming spring, escaping summer heat, admiring autumn scenery, and celebrating winter. Heading upstream, one could view verdant mountains with majestic peaks, white clouds, and flying birds. Heading downstream, one could see pastoral landscapes, wildflowers, and fragrant trees. According to folk legends, many talented scholars and beautiful ladies met here, creating romantic tales. It was said this was the blessing of a benevolent fairy.
Boats and water formed Mo Zi’s favorite combination. Although she had only traveled by river twice so far, when she first commanded a vessel at Qiu Sanniang’s order, standing upon the river waves with what felt like a pair of wind-riding wings sprouting from her back, that sense of freedom brought sudden clarity to her heart.
“Brother Mo, Old Guan is here,” Cen Er reminded Mo Zi.
Mo Zi focused her gaze and saw approaching with a beaming smile—wasn’t that the short, lean Old Guan with graying hair mixed with silver-white strands and a dark, wrinkled face?
Returning a hearty smile, Mo Zi stepped forward and cupped her fists in greeting. “Old Guan, we’ll be relying heavily on you again this time.”
“Not at all, not at all. Brother Mo, when you say that, you’re still holding a grudge. Showing off your skills before Guan Yu himself—haven’t I lost badly enough? I said long ago that from now on, whenever you’re on the boat, there’s no other chief.” Old Guan’s single given name was Jiang. Born on a boat, raised in water, his nickname was Loach.
This year, at fifty-three years old, Guan Jiang had never earned his living from anything besides water. He had gripped oars and rudders for all fifty-three years. When it came to sailing, half a year ago, he only respected himself and confidently believed no one knew water better than he did. But after accompanying Mo Zi on one cargo run, he learned that the saying about there being heavens beyond heavens and people beyond people wasn’t something the ancients had casually made up for amusement.
“Old Guan, aren’t those words making me feel ashamed? Without your experience and skills guiding us few, with just my book knowledge, we’d probably be waiting to sink.” Mo Zi didn’t exaggerate her own contributions.
Guan Jiang spat twice. “Unlucky, unlucky indeed!” He pressed his palms together and bowed toward the river surface. “Dragon Grandfather, please don’t take offense—young and ignorant, speaking carelessly. Please protect us with a journey free of waves and difficulties.”
Mo Zi naturally didn’t believe in this, but she didn’t show herself to be contrarian. Instead, she also bowed. This was called stabilizing people’s hearts. You had to understand—when people’s hearts were unstable, that truly affected the overall situation.
“Where’s our boat?” Suddenly a grinning face with triangular eyes peeked out from Cen Er’s shoulder, squinting mischievously. That was one of the three cart drivers, nicknamed Stinky Fish.
Additionally, there was a plump cart driver rolling up his sleeves to unload cargo, nicknamed Fat Shrimp. And a thin man leaning against the cart canopy smoking a pipe with an expressionless face, nicknamed Water Snake.
What Mo Zi transported out of the city wasn’t just wine—it was also these three cart drivers. Just from their nicknames, one could tell they were people extremely skilled in water. Moreover, though their appearances were completely different, they were actually blood brothers. According to Old Guan, the three brothers had originally made their living fishing, but later their hometown suffered a calamity, forcing them to leave and drift elsewhere. After meeting Old Guan, they worked on his boat, taking odd jobs to make ends meet. Old Guan introduced them to Mo Zi, and seeing that the three had excellent underwater skills and decent character, she naturally was willing to use them. To avoid drawing attention, the three normally worked odd jobs in the back garden of Looking for Autumn Tower. Thus being cart drivers was secondary—being boatmen was their true profession.
“Isn’t it right before your eyes? Eyes opened so wide.” Old Guan jerked his thumb backward.
A six-meter by ten-meter black-awning cargo boat with three masts sat quietly at the dock.
“Changed again?” Stinky Fish talked the most. “Last time it was red lacquer, this time there’s no lacquer. And what’s been splashed on the sail canvas—all those dark and light streaks?”
“Last time it was red lacquer, this time the red lacquer peeled off. Stinky Fish, your eyes are sharp enough—the sail hasn’t even been raised yet, and you can already see the shading?” Old Guan thought Stinky Fish was talking nonsense.
“Of course. With these eyes of mine, I could dive down in pitch darkness and fish up a squid for you.” Stinky Fish showed off his abilities.
“Enough from you.” Old Guan didn’t waste words with him. “Hurry and load the cargo onto the boat. Before the sun sets, taking advantage of the outgoing tide, we can cover an extra stretch.”
Finished speaking, Old Guan said to Mo Zi, “Brother Mo, those few modifications you mentioned to me last time—I’ve already made them. You should also take a look and see if I did them right.”
Mo Zi nodded. She quickly walked across the gangplank, dropped onto the deck, entered the cabin, lifted a wooden plank in the corner, and descended the ladder. Beside the ladder was a prepared lamp. She took out a fire starter, lit it, and while looking and thinking—if those people couldn’t catch up, they shouldn’t blame her for dirtying their silver.
Just then, several horses galloped into the Fairy Town entrance—clop-clop, clop-clop—truly horses like wind, riders like arrows. The person in the lead was unmistakably Erlang. Zhong An and Shi Lei followed closely behind. Behind them were three others, uniformly dressed in gray robes cinched at the waist, with their trouser legs tightly bound at the calves, wearing cloud-stepping boots, eyes bright and sharp, looking quite capable as well.
Suddenly Erlang pulled sharply on the reins and the horse reared up with its front hooves raised high, stopping before a teahouse.
A young attendant approached with a smiling face. “Customer, would you like to drink some tea and rest your feet?”
Erlang didn’t dismount. From his elevated position, he looked down at the attendant. “Excuse me, which direction is Wild Boat Ferry?”
“Five li to the east.” The attendant had just finished speaking when he saw a silver flash in the air. He hastily reached out to catch it—it was a piece of broken silver. Overjoyed, he bowed his head repeatedly like garlic being pounded. “Thank you, customer, thank y—”
However, all that answered him was the neighing of horses. The six people and six horses had already gone far, leaving only a trail of flying dust.
“Two hundred taels of silver—let’s hope we didn’t give it to a swindler.” Shi Lei caught up and rode alongside Erlang. “I saw that fellow had shifty eyes, his eyeballs rolling left and right—really untrustworthy.”
“Untrustworthy or not, we have to trust him.” Zhong An also rode up. “What we’re doing is called grasping at straws in desperation—it just depends on luck. But I saw that Brother Mo had clear, bright eyes, and the way he chose to drink the penalty wine at the end—he should indeed have connections. Best if he travels with us—on the road we’d have an interesting companion.”
Shi Lei made a scoffing sound. “Interesting companion? A smooth-talking brat who smuggles goods—I didn’t hear a single word of sincerity. If you hadn’t promised him not to report to the authorities, once this matter is done and we return, I’m going to bring people to arrest him and his employer.”
“A great man’s word, once spoken, cannot be taken back even by a team of four horses.” Erlang’s handsome face darkened slightly. “A petty smuggler isn’t worth the mental energy. What’s important is the matter at hand.”
Shi Lei dared to glare at Zhong An, but had no temper toward Erlang. He shrugged. “Damn it, that kid’s getting off lucky.”
Five li—for six good horses, it was but a moment. Erlang’s eyesight was excellent, and he spotted that tall stone pillar with the three characters “Wild Boat Ferry” written in vigorous, upright strokes.
“Who would have thought one could see such fine calligraphy on a ferry marker.” Zhong An, being literary-minded, praised the brushwork endlessly.
Shi Lei looked around in all directions, seeing several dozen boats at the ferry, varying in size. He scratched his head in annoyance. “So many boats—which one is it?”
“You blockhead, didn’t they say it’s called Yongfu?” Zhong An raised his eyes, scanning through the names one by one.
“Yongfu? What kind of smuggler calls their boat Yongfu?” Shi Lei spat.
Erlang said nothing. He was searching for a person, not a name. Very soon, he found her.
Against that vast twilight sky, a figure in old blue clothing with a gray square kerchief caught his eye—how difficult to spot, yet there she was.