The water route from Chizhou to Jiangzhou spanned four hundred li. Following normal practice of traveling by day and resting by night, after leaving Chizhou, it would take about four days before they could see Jiangzhou city on the southern bank of the great river.
In this era, when sailing ships—especially when sailing against an oblique headwind—the hull’s lateral drift was difficult to control and hard to resist strong winds. This made nighttime sailing quite dangerous even on the relatively open waters of great rivers, not to mention that sailors couldn’t endure the hardship of continuous day and night labor.
With stars and moon in the sky, they could only vaguely distinguish the riverbanks on both sides. Han Qian released three sky lanterns into the air to signal to Guo Nu’er and the others that they would be changing their itinerary and increasing ship speed. Then they hoisted full sails and sailed all the way against the crosswind and upstream current.
Ji Fu, who previously had been full of complaints about Han Qian, couldn’t stop praising him throughout the night. He hadn’t expected that adding simple water-deflecting boards to both sides of the gunwale and inserting them into the water would have such wonderful effects.
Overcoming the drawback of the hull drifting laterally from crosswinds not only increased speed by thirty to forty percent, but also made the sailing route more stable, saving the sailors much hardship.
Han Qian required Fan Xicheng, Zhao Kuo, and other retainers to also learn to operate the sails and rudder, rotating with the sailors. By the time the sky grew bright, they had already entered the territory of Wangjiang County in Shuzhou—at this point already over two hundred fifty li from Chizhou. If they didn’t rest and continued sailing upstream, they should be able to see Jiangzhou city by dusk.
However, Han Qian didn’t have Ji Fu and the others continue sailing the ship westward. After consulting with his father Han Daoxun, they steered the ship toward a sandbar in the middle of the river.
The sandbar wasn’t large, only about a li in depth.
Of course, it was currently early summer when spring waters flooded high. Much of the sandbar’s low mudflat areas were submerged by river water, and many trees could be seen with their trunks flooded by the turbid river water.
The ship followed a channel into a grove of mixed trees on the sandbar. After lowering the overly conspicuous mat sails, the ship was completely invisible from either bank.
After the ship stopped, Han Qian wrapped his robe, leather armor, and sword tightly in oilcloth, placed them on a simple raft made from ox bladders, then prepared to bid farewell to his father and the others. He would swim across the river alone to rendezvous with Zhao Wuji and the others.
The river waters were rough with large waves. The four or five li wide river surface was extremely taxing on one’s strength—not just anyone could cross it. Han Qian’s swimming ability could only be described as average; otherwise he wouldn’t need to make a simple raft. Zhao Kuo wanted to accompany him to the southern bank for protection.
Han Qian glanced at Zhao Kuo and said, “The Palace of Tranquility wishes my father harm and will certainly employ river bandits to attack from the river. The ship cannot be short-handed.”
Han Qian didn’t trust Zhao Kuo enough, who always seemed somewhat mysterious. He didn’t want to give him the opportunity to witness firsthand how the Secret Bureau’s Left Bureau that he had personally organized operated.
Moreover, even without considering the deployment of troops dispatched by Li Mingting, the riverside areas west of Chizhou had serious bandit troubles that severely hindered commercial development. With his father and the others hiding here, there was still a possibility of encountering scattered river bandits. Han Qian couldn’t reduce the already limited protective force on the ship.
Seeing that everyone was truly worried about him traveling alone to rendezvous with Guo Nu’er and the others, Han Qian finally brought along Ji Fu’s son Ji Xiyao—who had excellent swimming skills and was roughly trained in martial arts—as an escort, diving together toward the southern bank to guard against accidents.
Han Qian now discovered that the older generation—whether civil or military officials, retainers and servants, or even craftsmen—all had somewhat rigid thinking and were extremely cautious, far inferior to the younger generation who were ambitious and daring enough to adapt to new things.
Ji Fu was undoubtedly a master craftsman, but when Han Qian sought him out to discuss methods for building fast sailboats, though he appeared respectful on the surface without daring to show half a trace of disagreement, inwardly he didn’t take Han Qian seriously. In comparison, though Ji Xiyao didn’t say much, Han Qian could see he was genuinely interested.
To build new ships, he would use Ji Fu, but Han Qian would make even better use of people like Ji Xiyao.
…
…
On the opposite shore from Wangjiang County in Shuzhou lay the territory of Zhide County at the westernmost end of Chizhou. Beyond the floodplains with sprawling water and overgrown water plants, the territory consisted more of undulating mountain ranges. An ancient road passed through low hills—though long neglected, quite a few merchants and travelers still passed through. Han Qian and Ji Xiyao walked to a small market town where they stopped, finding a rather crude tea stall to sit down in.
It wasn’t until afternoon that Han Qian saw Lin Zongjing leading a blue-skinned mule, carrying the sickly-looking newly recruited scout Tian Cheng, pass by the tea stall.
After being infected with schistosomiasis, even after controlling the epidemic, the vast majority of patients—as long as they weren’t in late stages—wouldn’t die from it. However, no matter how slowly the disease progressed, it would more or less affect the body. Without specific medicines for complete cure, the condition would inevitably slowly worsen in the end.
When the Secret Bureau’s Left Bureau Military Section recruited new scouts, they tried as much as possible to avoid selecting those infected with the disease, but Tian Cheng was an exception.
Tian Cheng was originally from Xiangzhou, from a rather wealthy ancestral family that owned estates with over a thousand mu of good land. Xiangzhou had been thoroughly devastated in the warfare of the past several decades and was currently a buffer zone on the western border between Liang and Chu, with bandits and mountain thieves everywhere in the forests. Unable to return home, Tian Cheng had wandered the Jianghuai region with his father and brothers since childhood, also learning martial arts and literacy from them. Later he pledged himself to the Xuanxi Military Governor Zhou Zhong. His other father and brothers had served as Company Commander, Vice Company Commander, and other mid-to-high-ranking officers in the Xuanxi Army. Tian Cheng’s reputation wasn’t prominent; he mainly led personal guards beside his father and brothers.
After Xuanxi Military Governor Zhou Zhong was defeated by Emperor Tianyou, Tian Cheng’s father and brothers all died in battle. Unwilling to pledge loyalty to Great Chu, Tian Cheng wandered the rivers and lakes with over ten family members. First his elderly mother contracted schistosomiasis. Unable to bear abandoning her, Tian Cheng could only shelter his family on river beaches, eating raw snails and crabs to stave off hunger. He, along with his wife, daughters, and nephews, unfortunately all became infected with schistosomiasis.
After being incorporated into garrison camp soldier households, Tian Cheng’s mother had died earlier this year, but the infection conditions of the others were generally under control.
Han Qian was reluctant to recruit those infected with the disease into the Secret Bureau’s Left Bureau, but among the starving refugees, there truly weren’t many with resumes like Tian Cheng’s—Han Qian couldn’t afford to be picky.
For people like this, as long as the Dragon Sparrow Army overlooked them, he would gather them into the Secret Bureau’s Left Bureau.
Tian Cheng, in his early thirties, had a sallow complexion and was severely thin. Without even needing to pretend, riding the blue-skinned mule, he looked thoroughly sickly. When passersby saw him and Lin Zongjing, they instinctively assumed they were father and son entering town to seek medical treatment and avoided them from afar.
After Lin Zongjing and Tian Cheng had walked past for a good while, Han Qian pulled out four coins and placed them at the corner of the table, then led Ji Xiyao toward the market town. Before entering the town, they turned onto a small path overgrown with wild grass, following the traces Lin Zongjing had left behind, walking into a dilapidated nunnery.
Tian Cheng and another newly recruited scout from the Left Bureau stood guard inside the courtyard wall. Seeing Han Qian enter, they hurried over to bow and said, “We greet you, Sir.”
Han Qian looked at Tian Cheng and the other newly recruited scout, thinking that if he hadn’t decisively ordered the slaying of four men with random blade strikes a few days ago, people like Tian Cheng wouldn’t have shown such easy obedience. He asked:
“Besides Zongjing, who else arrived ahead?”
“Young Master, we also came,” Guo Nu’er, Zhao Wuji, and Lin Zongjing walked out from inside, saying happily, “Young Master, your ship ran so fast! This morning we waited on the riverbank east of Zhide County for quite a while without seeing you pass by, only then realizing we still underestimated Young Master’s capabilities.”
“At dawn we reached the mid-river sandbar west of Zhide County. I waited at the tea stall for you all for half the day,” Han Qian hadn’t expected that Zhao Wuji, Lin Zongjing, and the others would also miscalculate their ship’s speed, causing them to wait in vain east of Zhide County for half the morning. He walked into the room where three groups of people sat crowded together against the walls. He gestured for everyone not to rise in greeting. Surveying the room’s furnishings—though simple and old, they weren’t dusty—this clearly wasn’t an abandoned nunnery. He asked, “Where are the masters of this nunnery?”
“We came in masked and tied up all three old nuns inside, locking them in the woodshed. They thought we were robbers—one old nun pissed her pants, reeking of urine. We’ve truly offended the Buddha.” Lin Zongjing laughed darkly.
Han Qian smiled slightly. Seeing they had handled everything properly, he didn’t pursue further questions. He sent one person to the courtyard to watch the outside movements, having Tian Cheng come in to jointly discuss the next deployment.
“The enemy agents believe that Sir’s ship can travel at most one hundred li in a single night. So after losing track of the ship Sir is aboard, they might search the riverbanks east of Qiuxia Creek mouth, perhaps mistakenly thinking Sir and the Old Master abandoned ship and came ashore somewhere east of Qiuxia Creek mouth, switching to the land route to proceed to your post in Xuzhou.”
Lin Zongjing took a tree branch and roughly drew a map on the dirt floor showing the terrain from Chizhou city to Zhide County, suggesting this strategy.
“We should also infiltrate east of Qiuxia Creek mouth. As long as we can identify and capture a few of their secret agents’ whereabouts, things will become much more convenient.”
Han Qian nodded slightly.
A year ago, Lin Zongjing had still been an arrogant retainer’s son. Now he could directly propose specific and detailed action plans. Even if they weren’t the most reasonable, this was already quite remarkable.
From Chizhou city to Zhide County city, located on the southern bank of the Yangtze, all the riverside counties were connected by post roads with endless merchants and travelers. However, Guo Nu’er and the others weren’t locals. To hide themselves well without revealing flaws, they couldn’t casually linger along the way or aimlessly inquire about things everywhere.
Under so many restrictions, for Guo Nu’er and the others to still want to identify the enemy agents’ whereabouts was quite difficult.
The manpower Han Qian could deploy was limited, but no matter how great Zhao Mingting and the Department of Operations’ power, they didn’t dare publicly announce the Palace of Tranquility’s schemes. The secret agents they dispatched had to be absolutely trustworthy direct subordinates, and they didn’t dare alarm local authorities.
The terrain of the riverbanks along the Yangtze was complex, with many places lacking cover. If the enemy wanted to conceal their tracks, they couldn’t directly hug the riverbanks following their ship westward in relentless pursuit. Rather, they would pick several fixed points along the route to watch and see if their ship passed through.
In this situation, if their ship could sail far beyond the range the enemy estimated in a single night, the enemy would mistakenly think their ship was still downstream and hadn’t come up yet. After waiting in vain for a long time, the enemy’s secret agents and scouts might lose patience and actively search downstream.
Lin Zongjing wanted to seize this opportunity to find the whereabouts of several enemy agents and capture them.
“Does anyone else have better suggestions?” Han Qian didn’t rush to ask Guo Nu’er and Zhao Wuji’s opinions, but instead looked toward Tian Cheng and the other newly recruited scouts.
He had previously mercilessly ordered the execution of lax newly recruited scouts to establish absolute authority. With the Left Bureau hastily assembled, it couldn’t tolerate the slightest negligence. But this didn’t mean he wanted these carefully selected newly recruited scouts to all keep their mouths shut.