An Jiu didn’t feel responsible for the world’s fate, so she might not fully grasp the importance of stability. Chu Dingjiang, realizing this, stopped discussing such matters. However, he knew that without a clear direction, she might face similar hesitations in future missions.
“In my homeland, wars between states were frequent. Allies one day could become enemies the next. Common soldiers, like you, often didn’t understand why they fought. But in the heat of battle, a moment’s hesitation or a single step back meant death. Since you’ve chosen this path, if you can’t be heartless, at least be ruthless.”
“I understand,” An Jiu replied.
She did possess ruthlessness; otherwise, she wouldn’t have made such quick decisions regarding Li Ting.
They rode swiftly.
Two days later, at dusk, they arrived in Yingtian Fu.
Chu Dingjiang found a private inn for them to stay. After washing off the dust of travel and changing into clean robes, they ate in a quiet corner of the inn’s hall, listening for news.
Word of the overnight massacre of over a hundred people on the river spread rapidly along the waterways. The entire Jingdong and Jingxi regions were in an uproar, with urgent reports sent to Bianjing overnight.
The Song Dynasty, heavily influenced by Confucianism, valued civil matters over military ones. Song people were generally mild-mannered; even one or two deaths were considered major cases. The silent deaths of a hundred people were unprecedented in the Great Song for over a decade!
In the hall, the mixed aroma of food and wine created a unique atmosphere. The place buzzed with chatter, with nearly everyone discussing this horrifying murder case.
“Hey, have the officials found any clues?”
The conversation at a nearby table caught Chu Dingjiang and An Jiu’s attention.
Another person quickly responded, “It’s only been a day. How could there be any clues? That stretch of river is quite wide, surrounded by fields. The nearest boat was over two li away. They said they heard some commotion in the middle of the night but only realized something was wrong when they saw the ship on fire at dawn.”
At a distance of two li, any significant noise or disturbance should have been noticeable. However, this was initially a small-scale ambush that didn’t create much commotion. At first, many onlookers on deck thought it was just a conflict between the madman and Lu Danzhi. No one called out to other ships for help, not anticipating how quickly the situation would deteriorate. Their lives hung on Yelü Huangwu’s whim, while those in the lower decks were even more innocent, dying without knowing what had happened.
“When the officials arrived, the fire was too intense. After extinguishing it, the deck had scattered, and many bodies were washed away by the river. I heard they’ve recovered about 80 or 90 bodies so far.”
When the ship departed, the cargo and passenger count would have been recorded at the dock. Initially, there were 144 people on board. Now, with the ship destroyed, no one knew if there were any survivors or whether it was the work of those on board or ship hijackers.
The authorities were now thoroughly searching the docks along the river. If there had been a hijacking, there would surely be traces to follow.
The man took a sip of wine and sighed, “Ah! Such a grand-scale operation. There must be powerful forces behind it. These days, it’s always the same – the powerful clash, and the innocent die.”
His companion agreed, “Exactly! These villains are despicable. With such skills, why not fight against the Liao dogs instead of committing such atrocities!”
These scholars had likely never imagined that the Liao people could not only freely enter and exit Bianjing but also dare to cause havoc on Song territory.
An Jiu turned slightly, observing the two pale-faced young men at the neighboring table. They appeared refined but probably couldn’t lift a finger in real combat.
She scanned the room, noting that most of the occupants were similar – regardless of appearance, all affected an air of scholarly refinement.
Knowing what she was observing, Chu Dingjiang leaned forward and whispered, “I could take out a whole bunch of these with one swipe.”
An Jiu replied flatly, “Young master, mind your manners.”
Chu Dingjiang had mentioned being from a noble Hua family before, often earning An Jiu’s merciless mockery.
“Back then, even Confucian disciples could take out a bunch with one swipe,” Chu Dingjiang retorted, displeased. This was commonplace in the Warring States period; even Confucians had their fierce, savage moments.
An Jiu let out a soft snort that sounded distinctly like derision.
Chu Dingjiang sipped his wine resignedly.
After listening to the news in the hall for a while, they returned to their room.
Following a night’s rest, they abandoned the water route and rode horses along the official road, openly staying at government-run post stations, unafraid of inspections.
They journeyed smoothly to Jiangning Fu.
Chu Dingjiang found a private small boat, and together with An Jiu, they sailed towards Yangzhou.
Due to the major cause of the hundred deaths on the river, checkpoints along the way were extremely strict. It took them over a month to reach a private ferry port in Yangzhou.
This was the largest dock in Yangzhou besides the official one, owned by a local ship merchant.
As night fell, lanterns were lit along the dock, lining up like coiled dragons. Many cargo ships were moored at the shore, waiting to unload. Foremen stood on the gangplanks with whips, overseeing the laborers moving cargo, occasionally cracking their whips and shouting.
As Chu Dingjiang and An Jiu passed by, they saw a foreman kick a frail old man to the ground, a load heavier than the man himself pressing down on him.
Seeing the old man struggle to get up, the foreman kicked him again, cursing, “If you’re gonna die, crawl off the dock first! Damn nuisance!”
The old man’s gray hair was disheveled. He struggled for a while, veins bulging on his hands, his whole body trembling uncontrollably, but he couldn’t push off the heavy load.
As Chu Dingjiang walked by, he casually lifted the load off the old man.
The old man, tearfully grateful, kowtowed to him before shakily carrying his load away.
The two travelers, carrying their bags, made their way through the dock.
People along the way, intentionally or not, glanced at them.
An Jiu’s brows furrowed slightly as she followed close behind Chu Dingjiang.
Near the dock was a small town that never slept. Taverns and inns closed at midnight, but even after that, inns would still accept late-night travelers.
They first took a stroll around the town. The southern-style bridges over flowing water, dark-tiled white walls, and even the poetic names of taverns and inns all exuded a unique charm. Finally, they checked into a private inn called “Jade Exquisite.” It was of medium size in the town, with over ten guest rooms arranged in a square formation around a small courtyard. The yard was lush with flowers and plants, with a small pond in the corner housing over a dozen plump koi.
A servant led the way with a lantern, guiding them through a covered corridor and up a steep, narrow staircase to the second floor.
“Honored guests, these are the only two rooms left,” the servant said.
The rooms were across from each other, separated by the courtyard. The servant opened the door to the first room. “This room overlooks the river. It’s spacious but a bit noisy being close to the dock. The other room is quieter but doesn’t have a bathtub. If you wish to bathe, you’ll need to use the bathhouse on the first floor…”