Right after the ancestral rites at the old estate, with the New Year festivities barely past, the Su household’s masters and mistresses set out on the road back to the capital.
Su Hongmeng had specially purchased a great quantity of local specialties, as well as antiques, calligraphy, and paintings he had commissioned others to acquire well in advance — plus six of the locally prized black-rumped fragrant pigs — all to be presented as gifts to his colleagues upon his return.
The sheer volume of goods necessitated the hiring of an additional boat, which was packed to the brim. When the whole party arrived at the dock, the moorings were already crowded with vessels waiting to set sail.
Docks always looked like this in the days after the New Year — merchants from every corner of the land, having rested through the festival season, were now heading off to the far ends of the earth.
But no sooner had Su Hongmeng stepped down from his carriage than he heard a clamor of noise drifting over from the dock.
Su Caijian poked her head out from another carriage: “What is going on? Is there some performer or opera troupe ahead? Why is such a crowd gathered?”
A servant sent ahead to scout ran over and jogged back, panting: “Soldiers have sealed off the dock entrance. They say they are hunting for accomplices of rebel forces, and are searching every vessel one by one. Our own boats have been impounded and cannot depart for the time being.”
Su Hongmeng hurried over with his people to see for himself. And sure enough — soldiers were climbing up and down various cargo vessels in organized groups, though what criminal they were searching for was unclear.
Just then, Su Guiyan — who was sharing a carriage with his two younger brothers — looked back and could not find his elder sister Luoyun’s carriage.
He sent a servant on horseback to go back and look, and only then learned that Su Luoyun’s carriage had shed a wheel mid-journey, and the driver would need some time to make the repair before catching up.
Worried about losing time, Master Su could not spare attention for his late-arriving eldest daughter. He sent a servant to inquire of the soldiers’ commander whether, as a courtesy to Master Su of the Bureau of Trade and Exchange’s Aromatic Storehouse, the Su family’s boats might be inspected first so they could depart earlier.
Unfortunately, the hard-won title of Storehouse Keeper, modest as it was, meant nothing to the soldiers’ commander, who paid the servant’s words not the slightest heed.
Before Master Su could muster his first display of official authority in the new year, Ding Shi — sharp-eyed as ever — was already instructing a servant to tuck several packets of silver into his robes before approaching the commander again.
Being inspected earlier or later was simply a matter of jumping the queue. They had arrived too late; a great many vessels were already lined up ahead of them. If they waited their turn behind all those cargo boats, they might well be spending the night at the dock.
As it turned out, silver and gold found passage everywhere under Heaven. With several packets of coin changing hands, the commander glanced without expression at the travel documents the servant presented, then announced: “Since this is a capital official returning to report for duty, naturally we cannot delay him. Men — go inspect the Su household’s two vessels first!”
Because the second hired boat carried the antiques and paintings Su Hongmeng had paid handsomely to acquire — precious items, every one — both stewards boarded to keep watch. Seeing the soldiers’ rough hands among the goods left them in a sweat, and following Ding Shi’s instructions, they hurried to press small silver ingots into the soldiers’ hands while beseeching the officers to handle everything with care.
The soldiers, having pocketed their reward, were content to make a cursory sweep of the vessel and call it done.
And so the Su household, backed by the power of their wealth, managed to weigh anchor early — to the chorus of curses and complaints from the crowd still waiting in line.
The commander also murmured a quiet word of warning to the Su family: if they were leaving, they had best go quickly. Shortly, if no one was found, the entire waterway might well be placed under curfew, and no vessel would be permitted to pass. Su Hongmeng, hearing this — could he bear the thought of being delayed in reporting to his new office? — could not wait another moment for the boats to set off.
Su Luoyun’s carriage had been delayed on the road for the wheel change, and she arrived at the dock too late to board the first vessel. Su Hongmeng merely had the second cargo boat wait a short while, instructed people to have the First Young Miss take the second vessel, then gave the order for the first boat to lift anchor and move out.
And so when Su Luoyun arrived, the first boat was already far ahead. She had no choice but to board the second vessel with Nanny Tian and the maidservant Xiangcao.
This boat could not match the pace of the Su family’s vessel. It let in drafts from all sides, and even inside the cabin the space was crammed with cargo. From the rear hold came the snorting and grunting of pigs jostling in their pens, and the smell was less than pleasant.
Xiangcao, after considerable effort, managed to clear out a small space for her young miss, and huffed indignantly: “How could they leave in such a rush without waiting? This… how is anyone supposed to live in this?”
The space was so cramped that Nanny Tian and Xiangcao could only carve out just enough room in the adjacent, colder cabin for a folding bed — otherwise there would be nowhere to sleep for the four days of the journey.
But once the boat had been underway for a little while, Nanny Tian’s old tendency toward seasickness flared up again, and she was violently ill. Su Luoyun instructed Xiangcao to help Nanny Tian back to her cabin to rest, and to brew some medicine to settle her stomach.
Xiangcao was reluctant to leave her young miss alone, but Su Luoyun said: “We are only separated by a few planks of wood — if anything happens, I will call for you. Go quickly and brew Nanny Tian’s medicine. Last time she drank that broth she fell asleep almost immediately, which at least spares her some suffering.”
After Xiangcao led Nanny Tian away, Su Luoyun sat quietly at the small table, feeling her way to open the book chest brought down from the carriage. She dipped a brush into the ink case and began practicing her calligraphy on a stack of paper.
In the past, Luoyun’s hand had produced characters in the Yu style — supple yet containing a core of steel, truly exceptional. After the accident two years ago, her calligraphy had fallen into neglect.
Later, she had devised a method: using strips of bamboo fashioned into small grid frames, she would press them against the paper to orient herself, and practice her characters within the structure. Gradually she had developed a system, until she could write in neat rows without the bamboo frame at all.
Looking at those flowing, freely sweeping characters — who would believe they had been written by a blind woman?
As she practiced, she felt cold. Remembering that Xiangcao had said the small clothing chest from the carriage was stored to the left, she rose to retrieve something from it.
But as she drew near, her nostrils gave a faint twitch — she suddenly caught a faint trace of the smell of blood.
Since losing her sight, Su Luoyun’s sense of smell had become extraordinarily acute. She could say with certainty that this scent of blood had drifted in suddenly… or perhaps it had been there all along, and she had only come close enough just now to detect it.
Su Luoyun’s footsteps slowed involuntarily. She hesitated and said: “Is someone there?”
After a moment of stillness, not the faintest sound reached her. Luoyun’s mind turned rapidly. Then, without any change in her expression, she turned and felt her way along the cabin wall toward the door, murmuring as she went: “That wretched girl Xiangcao — does she not know I cannot see? She left without even setting out a pot of tea for me. Never mind — I shall go and fetch some myself.”
As she spoke, she felt her way along the boat’s wall toward the doorway.
Along the way, she even stumbled over a chest left in the cabin, and merely knitted her brows, felt for her footing, and picked herself up to continue toward the door.
Su Luoyun remembered clearly: back at the dock, soldiers had been searching for a fugitive who was said to be wounded. If her guess was correct, that desperate criminal was at this very moment hiding in her cabin.
She could not see what was in the cabin, and dared not call for anyone — if she did, a violent man could silence her in an instant. Her only option was to expose her own weakness, stumbling along as she went, and let the fugitive see that she was blind — that she did not know he was hiding in her cabin. Perhaps that would stay his hand, and he would let her walk out.
What she did not know was that at this moment, the last rays of the evening sun were slanting in through the porthole, falling directly on her face. The rosy light gave her pale, fine complexion a sheen like jade lit from within. Her slender arms emerged from wide sleeves, her delicate fingers moving inch by inch along the wooden wall, making her appear altogether fragile and slight.
Su Luoyun distinctly sensed that the smell of blood seemed to be drawing closer to her. She heard not a single sound. Yet an inexplicable shiver had begun to creep up her spine.
When a large, solid palm suddenly covered her mouth, Su Luoyun’s heart sank — disaster.
The fugitive evidently did not believe she was blind, and suspected she had noticed him and was trying to go out and raise the alarm. He had made his move.
Sure enough, a voice sounded at her ear — deliberately roughened and somewhat hoarse: “Looking at your calligraphy, you hardly seem like a blind person. Miss, this blind act of yours is a little too rough around the edges, don’t you think?”
Clearly the man assumed this young woman had detected him and had deliberately feigned blindness to deceive him, intending to go out and call for help.
With the large palm pressed over her mouth, Su Luoyun caught a faint and distinctive scent of camphor on it. With her extensive knowledge of fragrances, she identified it at once as something that would not come cheaply.
So this desperate fugitive had a taste for luxury — even amid a life of lawlessness, he was willing to spend on such costly fragrance.
She had no time to dwell on this. She could only struggle within the suffocating grip and make what small sound she could: “Good sir, please do not be alarmed — I truly cannot see. Since you have made it onto this vessel, you are already safe. I am sensible enough not to make a scene; you may depart without incident. Would that not serve us both well?”
In her tension, she had reached up to grasp the arm covering her mouth. Through the touch of her fingers she could tell — long arms, lean yet precise in their build, the muscles beneath hard as stone. Snapping a person’s neck would cost him no more than a moment’s effort.
She was in his grip now, and needed to be sensible and obedient — to present quickly the stance of someone who had no involvement in the affairs of the rivers and lakes, and hope to persuade him to let her go.
Seeing that he did not speak, she struggled to say more: “I lost my sight two years ago in an accident. Although my calligraphy is still practiced, I truly cannot see anyone’s face. Good sir, you need not worry that I have seen what you look like. They say those who share a boat share a bond of fate — I am also glad to let this be a bond of goodwill, and have no desire to cause a scene and damage my own reputation in the process. You may set your mind at ease for the crossing. Presently, if you wish to put ashore, I will instruct the boatman to pull over and let you off. I caught the smell of blood — you must be wounded. You should seek a physician as soon as you can…”
The words were well-chosen, and her tone was soft and composed, carrying genuine persuasiveness.
The man observed that the young woman had not cried out in panic. She had clearly detected him long ago.
Yet he still did not believe she was blind. After a silence, he suddenly produced a fine dagger from his wrist, its blade glinting cold, and drove the point straight toward her eye.
The tip halted only at the distance of a grain of rice from Luoyun’s long lashes.
But Su Luoyun had no awareness of this sudden attack. Those bright, beautiful eyes did not so much as blink, gazing steadily into the empty air.
An ordinary person, faced with an unexpected strike, would inevitably flinch and shut their eyes.
The man was now certain she was truly blind. Yet his palm still did not release its hold. He pressed his voice low: “You are clearly a young miss from a household of wealth and standing — your reputation is indeed precious. Before long, someone will come by boat to collect me. As long as you do not raise the alarm, no one will know I am on this vessel. I must trouble you for a few more hours, Miss — I ask for your cooperation.”
With that, he released the arm that had been restraining Su Luoyun, allowing her to return and sit at the table.
Though Su Luoyun had not seen the fugitive’s test just now, she had caught the cold metallic tang of blood on a blade — so he did indeed have a knife in hand.
This boat had been hired by the Su family to carry cargo. Aside from Nanny Tian and Xiangcao, there were only two elderly boatmen working the sails and the rudder. Even if she called everyone together, they would be no match for this powerfully built fugitive.
Since he appeared to be someone one could reason with, Su Luoyun had no wish to cause trouble. She simply said to him: “My maidservant may come over presently. I would ask that you find yourself a place to conceal yourself — it will save explanations all around.”
The man said nothing in reply. But the smell of blood seemed to drift farther away — he had likely retreated again behind the stacked crates.