Luna successfully passed through three checkpoints. Along the way, more than ten civilian boats accompanied them. The Hunan Army maintained fairly strict discipline and didn’t indulge in extortion. After all, achieving merit by conquering the city was the urgent matter. Plundering wealth during war was much more satisfying than scraping a few coins from several civilian vessels.

In addition, foreign legions flying colorful flags were stationed along the banks. These were the “Ever Victorious Army” hired by the Qing government, comprising various Western desperados in the Far East. Most were speculators who had come to the Far East for adventure, with no morals or loyalty to speak of. Their actions were capricious—some straddled both Taiping and Qing forces, joining whoever held power. They took high military salaries, trained soldiers with Western military tactics and firearms. Every time they broke a city, they would loot extensively with the Qing army’s tacit permission.

The Ever Victorious Army camp was drilling. Seeing Chinese civilian boats pass by, they arrogantly fired a cannon to demonstrate their presence. The cannonball hit the water, making Luna rock for several minutes. Foreign soldiers clapped and laughed loudly on shore.

They dawdled until evening. Wartime ships weren’t allowed to navigate at night, so Luna anchored below the Yanzi Cliff ferry.

Over twenty years ago, during the First Opium War, British forces entered the Yangtze River and landed at Yanzi Cliff when attacking Nanjing, building a large dock. Since then, steamships could moor there.

It was the dry season of winter, with uneven reeds on the riverbank backed by massive rocks. Waves crashed against the rock face, carving out countless small caves.

Rolling river currents, evening clouds over red cliffs—the motley crew aboard enjoyed this “Evening Glow at Yanzi Cliff,” one of “Jiangning’s Forty-Eight Scenic Spots,” as they ate and spent the night.

Crew members quietly closed passage doors throughout the ship.

Tang Tingshu’s cabin was lit. He was hurriedly revising several other price alliance contracts. Smith, as usual, had conflicts with Chinese passengers, instructing his black female slave, “Christmas,” to teach three or four people who competed with him for deck chairs a lesson. Ship’s mate Jiang Gaosheng was eating hot noodle soup from the crew kitchen, feeling the noodles tasted different from usual—somehow… better.

“The new cook has skills,” he thought.

Su Minguan, wearing a proper reddish-brown leather jacket, saw off the last Hunan Army camp officer who came to search, not forgetting to slip some silver dollars and a cigarette into his hands. Pointing at the Yanzi Cliff rock face, he smiled and asked: “Brother, those caves wouldn’t hide bandits, would they?”

The camp officer pocketed the silver coins and fingered the cigarette with great pleasure. Unlike Commander Zeng, who had song and dance programs for entertainment in his camp, these common soldiers had nothing but nightly vigilance with weapons ready, needing these things to stay alert.

“How could they?” the officer laughed in reply. “Those caves don’t connect anywhere. At most, fishermen take shelter from the rain there. Don’t worry.”

He caressed the cigarette and suddenly noticed dice patterns drawn on the cigarette paper, looking at first glance like something torn from gambling literature.

However, to members of the Gelaohui (Elder Brothers Society), this arrangement of dots indicated “paying respects at the dock.”

The Hunan Army had many Gelaohui members, with only slight connections to the Heaven and Earth Society of Guangdong and Guangxi. But they were all people making their living away from home with no conflicting interests, so doing a favor cost nothing.

The Gelaohui camp officer lit the cigarette, smoked it clean in a few puffs, paced with measured steps off the ship, and instructed his men: “No problems. Withdraw.”

On the Yanzi Cliff rock face was a cave connected to the river, traditionally a refuge for fishermen. Inside were waterways, winding and twisting, unexpectedly connecting to an abandoned embankment in the reed marshes. Swimming through the breach in the embankment, one could enter an abandoned early Ming dynasty outpost, then walk through a newly dug tunnel to reach the outer perimeter of Taiping Army trenches.

This route was very difficult to traverse, requiring holding one’s breath for at least a minute while swimming. Very few could persist. Even those lucky enough to make it through could only jump into the rolling Yangtze, with slim chances of survival.

The Hunan Army simply let this be, filling the cave entrance with a few piles of rubble and calling it done.

After all, military campaigns were like playing Go—you always had to leave a few “breaths.”

Occasionally, defenders in the city couldn’t contain themselves and “broke through” from these weak points. Since their forces weren’t properly formed, each time they were efficiently blocked back by the Hunan Army like crushing ants.

…

Splash, splash. At this moment, those rubble stones were quietly moved aside and pushed into the Yangtze.

Below the rock cave, several small sampans were violently rocked by the waves.

Hong Chunkui had already shaved his head bald, a small knife clenched in his teeth, bowing respectfully to Su Minguan.

“Chunkui is going. I’ll bring people back before the fourth watch.”

Su Minguan said flatly, “Only bring thirty. Those weighing less than eighty jin count as half a person. One extra jin of weight, and I’ll have the sampans withdrawn.”

Hong Chunkui said no more and nimbly climbed up the rock face.

A bright, round moon chased away nearby clouds, making the lights on the river surface seem feeble. Hunan Army night patrol boats prowled near the Jiufu Island camp.

Water and moon are brilliant white, the clear river like silk, ceaselessly swallowing vague life and death and eternal time.

Ordinary passengers were all fast asleep. Lin Yuchan curled up in her small cabin, nose pressed against the narrow porthole glass, nervously watching the river flow.

Su Minguan wouldn’t let her leave, assigning her an optional task: observe the south side for any suspicious boats passing. An iron pipe ran across the corner of the cabin wall—she could strike it to sound an alarm if necessary.

But the Hunan Army side had already been taken care of, and no one would waste much time on a civilian steamship.

So she could only guard boredly.

At the third watch, weak firelight appeared on the rock face, flickering on and off.

Several frail figures appeared at the cave entrance on the rock face, lowering ropes and frantically jumping onto small sampans. Then several more people.

Su Minguan distinguished them by the faint light from the ship’s side lamps. Indeed, most were women and children. Some had already collapsed on the sampans. Some were still wiping away tears.

Hong Chunkui was keeping his word after all.

People on the sampans urgently rowed, wooden oars splashing up sprays of water as they fell into the river.

Three li away, a Hunan Army patrol boat carried yellow lanterns, slowly passing by.

All informed crew on the Yixing steamship tensely stood ready. They had all received Su Minguan’s orders: if the Hunan Army came to inspect, say these refugees came on their own, nothing to do with us, officers, please do as you wish.

The Hunan Army boat pushed through waves, slowly sailing away.

Several large hands pulled up those refugees from Jiangning, roughly pushing them into crew passages.

Several long-haired women’s teeth chattered. Three boys sobbed quietly, hugging together with them.

These people were all skin and bones, dirty and disheveled, with cuts on their faces and hands, muddy water dripping from their clothes.

Su Minguan ordered in a low voice: “Search them and confiscate weapons.”

Hong Chunkui was about to disembark to meet the second group when he heard this and turned pale: “Hey, fellow countryman, helmsman… they’re all women and children…”

Before he finished half a sentence, several Heaven and Earth Society big brothers stepped forward with stern faces and indeed confiscated several knives from the weak women. A boy also carried a small dagger.

Ridiculous. The Taiping Army was all soldiers—women with natural feet formed their military units, fighting more dashingly than men. Their reputation spread throughout the martial world.

They wouldn’t dare treat them as weaklings.

Su Minguan ordered again: “Give each person a blanket, and strictly guard them in the cabin. Don’t bully them, but don’t let them bully you either.”

The second wave of refugees numbered over ten, including two adult men, probably with some status in the Taiping Army. Su Minguan directly ordered them tied up and stuffed into cabins, too.

These two began cursing a few times, but later, seeing the Hunan Army camp lights outside the portholes, suddenly began crying, full of apologies to their families left in the city.

Hong Chunkui silently shook his head, rubbing the large bump on his head, feeling like Zhu Bajie looking in a mirror—not human inside or out.

When he snuck back into the city defenses and secretly gathered these deserters with thoughts of leaving, telling everyone only a small portion could go and preferably light-weight women and children, he had anticipated a chorus of curses and pleas.

Using his remaining authority as “Three Thousand Years Old” and “Ying Wang,” he coaxed and persuaded everyone that if this opportunity passed, there might be another chance.

He didn’t want to be the King Yama writing death rolls, so he let each family decide for themselves, by household.

Adult men counted as one person. Women and children counted as half. A total of thirty, at most doubled to sixty.

Some families chose to send out mothers and young sons, or pairs of siblings. Strong men and women stayed behind to fight with the Heavenly King to the end.

Other families had male heads who took the lead, believing they still had great prospects and shouldn’t be buried in this doomed isolated city. They convinced their wives and children to let them escape alone.

Still others had wives and children who voluntarily sacrificed themselves, leaving the path to life for the family head.

In any case, farewells between the living and the dead, crying everywhere.

Hong Chunkui wasn’t entirely satisfied with the list of this “death roll” and wanted to say something.

But seeing the moonlight, he immediately remembered Su Minguan’s cold-blooded expression when reading his pocket watch. Hong Chunkui sighed heavily.

At moments of life and death, was there room for hesitation? Could he be inferior to a young Heaven and Earth Society helmsman?

So he led these people repeatedly through that perilous path to life, climbing onto that life-saving steamship.

The porthole was covered with a layer of white fog. Lin Yuchan stepped back a few inches and wiped the glass clean with her handkerchief.

Tonight’s moonlight was exceptionally bright. She had carefully counted. Sampans came and went seven or eight times, bringing people who were all orderly, hidden in the ship’s cabins.

She quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

But wait!

How was it another boatload of people!

Su Minguan stood on deck, his face changing, asking in a low voice: “What’s going on?”

Hong Chunkui was also somewhat at a loss.

The woman on the sampan was righteously indignant, pointing at several small heads beneath her hands, saying loudly: “They’re all little children! Two or three years old, three to five years old! Didn’t Ying Wang say eighty jin counts as one person? These few children together just make eighty jin! Ying Wang forgive me, this old woman took the liberty!”

Eight zhang away, Hong Chunkui anxiously jumped up and down, gesturing for her to speak quietly.

Su Minguan made an immediate decision, shouting: “Pull them up!”

Lin Yuchan’s earlier flash of inspiration to propose “counting by weight” was just to force Hong Chunkui to bring more women and children. Upon reflection, it was somewhat hasty, with loopholes to exploit.

For instance, bringing a bunch of very small children didn’t violate the rules either.

Moreover, it was too late to return the people now.

The Hunan Army patrol boat turned a corner and approached again. Su Minguan’s palm suddenly broke out in sweat as he shouted again: “Quick, pull them up!”

The hanging ropes were thick and rough with many splinters. Children’s skin was tender and their strength small, making climbing especially difficult.

A child hung in mid-air with several hands pulling him up, yanking so hard his arm dislocated. The child immediately lost his grip, screaming sharply and nearly falling!

Immediately, someone rushed over with lanterns, throwing down several rope loops to barely catch the child in mid-air.

At this point, they couldn’t worry about sound and light. Human life was precious.

A few seconds later, the child was swung onto the deck and immediately had his mouth covered.

But on the river surface with waves lapping continuously, several harsh light beams—not ship side lighting—were twisted by wind and water mist, flashing suspicious signals on the river surface, carrying several chaotic shadows.

A yellow light flashed on the patrol boat as it slowly changed course.

The light showed Chinese flag signals asking the steamship Luna: Any abnormalities? Need help?

Everyone on the Yixing steamship, from Jiang Gaosheng holding a child to crew members with brooms, collectively had blank minds for a moment.

Should they throw these children who had climbed halfway up—two, three, four, five years old—into the river?

Jiang Gaosheng’s hands trembled, his mind couldn’t process it, but instinct drove him to slowly draw the knife at his waist.

Human hearts are made of flesh. If the helmsman dared give that order, he was determined to pretend he was deaf.

He’d rather kill soldiers…

The last child hung on the rope, frightened and beginning to cry loudly.

The Hunan Army patrol boat came closer and closer. Su Minguan clenched his fist, pulled a thread that wasn’t so tangled from the mess of thoughts, pondered for a moment, and said in a low voice: “Signal back that everything’s fine!”

Whether others believed it or not, he had to believe it first! Make them think they saw and heard wrong!

The crew hesitated. Could this fool them…

Before orders could be passed down, suddenly the pipe underfoot made a humming sound, and under the moonlight a clear female voice screamed, drowning out the child’s crying.

Immediately after, splash water splashed everywhere.

“Help! Save me…”

The crew was shocked: “Someone fell overboard!”

At the same time, Su Minguan made a great grab and pulled the last child onto the ship.

The accompanying woman showed a face full of regret, mumbling apologies. Just as she boarded the deck, she was firmly pressed down by several crew members and tied up tightly according to adult male treatment.

The Hunan Army patrol boat heard the cries and accelerated closer.

“Help… I can’t swim, wuwuwu… save me…”

Both the patrol boat and steamship crews this time heard that female voice calling for help.

Su Minguan’s face suddenly changed. He removed the gun from his waist, casually tossed it to a crew member, rushed to the ship’s rail in two or three steps, throwing his outer clothes on the ground.

“A’Mei!”

What was happening? How did she get out?

“Watch the ‘guests’! Take them all to the lower cabin! Isolate and guard them! Lock the doors! Clean up water stains!”

After giving these few instructions, he grabbed a cable rope, quickly tied it around his arm, ran to the bow, and leaped into the air.

The river current was rapid, instantly sweeping him away from the steamship, fishy water hitting his face.

Then, cold, murky water slowly seeped into his clothes, penetratingly cold.

The moonlight was brilliant. In deathly silence, Su Minguan stretched his stiff arms, stroked powerfully through the water toward that small black dot.

The black dot rose and fell, and his heart rose and fell with it.

Yellow lights flickered as the Hunan Army boat turned and rapidly cut diagonally inward. The Gelaohui camp officer cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted to him: “Brother, don’t panic, we’ll rescue her!”

Fortunately, the person who fell wasn’t far. Before long, she was pulled onto the boat by the Hunan Army soldiers working together.

“It’s a woman! Sorry about this, gotta hold you.”

“Oh my, were you the one crying just now? Did you choke on water?”

“I thought it was a child—I was just wondering, there are no children on this ship!”

“Young lady, don’t think of doing anything drastic!—Oh, you slipped?”

“Hey, little lady, don’t look at the scenery in the middle of the night. With your small frame, a gust of wind could blow you down! Even the most powerful Western steamship can’t guard against Father Wind!”

…

With this interruption, the inexplicable crying and lights from before now had an explanation. The soldiers discovered they had performed a “heroic rescue of a beauty” and were all in good spirits, surrounding Lin Yuchan with care and concern.

The nearby steamship? Already forgotten.

Su Minguan climbed aboard the patrol boat, confirmed Lin Yuchan was unharmed, and repeatedly expressed thanks.

The Gelaohui camp officer smiled: “Alright, Boss Su, remember to raise your railings higher in future—this is your wife?”

During the earlier ship inspection, he had seen this woman and thus ordered his men to be courteous.

Su Minguan nodded lightly, then looked at that bedraggled little wretch curled up and dripping wet. Anger rose in his heart as he secretly gave her a fierce glare and tightly gripped her ice-cold hands.

Using too much force, she grimaced in pain and frowned.

He said through gritted teeth in a low voice: “You almost lost your life!”

She said quietly: “Sorry…”

The Gelaohui camp officer instead consoled them: “Alright, alright, didn’t we fish her out? Not to boast, but Commander Zeng’s navy—if you threw a giant salamander in the river, we could fish it out for you!”

As they spoke, the Hunan Army boat came to the steamship’s side. A rope ladder had already been lowered from deck. Su Minguan dragged Lin Yuchan and swiftly climbed up.

Both were soaked through, with a puddle of water at their feet.

Crew members hurriedly brought several quilts and moved over some braziers.

They also repeatedly thanked those below and threw down a small package of silver.

Su Minguan looked up with an inquiring expression.

Jiang Gaosheng replied quietly: “Total of fifty-three people, ten adult males, the rest women and children, all safely in cabins, weapons confiscated, all well guarded now. No passengers noticed anything unusual. Brother Chunkui is in the lower cabin waiting to apologize to you.”

Su Minguan breathed out lightly and replied with a very bad attitude: “Let him wait! Brew me hot tea.”

He was looking for trouble!

But at least they safely rescued many people.

Now to settle accounts with another person.

Lin Yuchan crouched nearby, wrapped in two thick quilts, shivering.

Her face was pale, lips purple, teeth chattering uncontrollably, hair plastered to her cheeks, eyebrows hung with water drops. She had lost her shoes in the river, leaving a trail of wet footprints.

“Don’t you want to live?”

Su Minguan also slowly crouched down, his words like ice, asking word by word.

While speaking, he fiercely grabbed the corner of the quilt beside her, wrapping it tightly around her like a zongzi, binding her so she couldn’t move.

The surrounding crew couldn’t stand this low pressure and made excuses about brewing tea before disappearing completely.

Lin Yuchan’s lips trembled as she said quietly: “I, I… you should also wrap yourself in a quilt. I didn’t think you’d jump down… sorry…”

“This is the Yangtze River, not Suzhou Creek! If you drowned, what would I do?”

Blood rushed to her face as she lowered her head, saying softly: “I… I grabbed a life ring before jumping… it was, it was a Western life preserver…”

Su Minguan was slightly stunned, suppressing his tone: “The current is fast—it would have swept you away.”

“I tied a cable rope to the life preserver. I only let go after getting on the Hunan Army boat.”

“You…”

A mass of anger churned in Su Minguan’s chest, but her few words seemed to poke several holes in his chest cavity, letting all that anger escape completely.

He had underestimated her cunning.

He remembered something else and asked fiercely: “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“No time…”

Su Minguan was completely speechless, his stern face gradually unable to maintain its composure, only able to glare at her resentfully.

This girl had cultivated such audacity from who knows where—give her a ship and she’d dare to jump, give her a kite and she’d probably want to fly to heaven!

A crew member brought tea. He felt the temperature and handed it to her.

She immediately held it, drinking from the spout in small sips. Her cheeks gradually regained color.

Her delicate fingers were stiff from cold, joints showing a harsh, pale red color.

Su Minguan saw this and felt apologetic, but was unwilling to apologize.

He had truly been frantic earlier, only wanting to hold her tightly beside him, with a slight punitive intention, not controlling his strength.

“Does it still hurt?”

He touched her knuckles and asked.

She nodded pitifully, then suddenly brought the teapot to his lips.

Only then did he realize he was also soaked through, with water still dripping from his clothes and hair. Earlier in his rage, he hadn’t noticed, but now, calming down, he also began chattering his teeth.

Water drops collected at his chin tip, dripping onto his chest. Long and short hair all stuck to his face—if not for the dim light earlier preventing the Hunan Army soldiers from seeing clearly, wouldn’t they have taken him for a “long-hair” too?

Lin Yuchan looked at his bedraggled state and suddenly burst out laughing, still with lingering fear.

Su Minguan held the teapot spout in his mouth, drank several mouthfuls of hot tea, smoothed his disheveled hair, and gradually regained his senses.

For some reason, that belly full of flames turned into a wisp of smoke, and he suddenly couldn’t help but laugh quietly, too.

Laughing at her foolishness, her bedraggled state, and his frantic loss of composure earlier.

Laughing and laughing, his eyes inexplicably itched, and the girl before him blurred for a moment.

Lin Yuchan gently hugged his shoulders.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have frightened you.”

Immediately, ten times the strength embraced her back. His knuckles pressed hard against her spine. Hearing her muffled grunt of being unable to breathe, he felt a trace of satisfaction. He breathed deeply, capturing her faint scent, gently biting her ear and neck, confirming this hateful little thing was completely intact, not missing a piece of flesh or a strand of hair.

Her skin was ice cold. The cold, wet body couldn’t ignite much passion—he only wanted to gradually knead her into his body, every inch pressed tight, never to separate again.

She trembled, buried in his chest, asking quietly: “Did those women and children all get up safely?”

“There are a few men too.” Su Minguan nodded, saying with slight dissatisfaction: “They’re all being watched.”

Seeing that her quilt was also gradually getting soaked, he gently patted her shoulder.

“Go change clothes. Get some sleep.”

She agreed quietly.

“Borrowing your washroom.”

Su Minguan nodded, seeing her thin silhouette walking away step by step in wet footprints, suddenly remembering her high fever last year.

To save a small baby, she got soaked through and caught a cold. At the worst point, her whole body was like burning charcoal.

Then she complained that the maids forcibly wrapped her wet and forced her to drink medicine—it was terrible. If she could have taken a hot bath on the spot, she definitely wouldn’t have gotten sick.

“A’Mei.” Su Minguan suddenly called to her, smiling: “Take a hot bath?”

Lin Yuchan turned back in surprise. Where on this steamship were conditions for a hot bath?

Su Minguan couldn’t help but laugh—this girl’s brain was indeed frozen silly.

“This is a steamship! It burns water all day and night!”