Heavy rain poured down, streaked now and again by flashes of lightning, thunder rolling in waves and shaking the darkened city.

Changzhou was a major city along the Jiangnan Canal route — during the Tang Dynasty it had once been counted among the ten most prominent prefectures in the realm, though for all the prosperity the canal route had brought it, it naturally couldn’t compare to great cities like Bianjing, Jiangning, Suzhou, or Hangzhou. In a downpour like this, only a scattering of lamp-posts flickered faintly across the city, and only when lightning occasionally split the sky could one glimpse, for an instant, the layered, looming silhouette of the city’s buildings stretching into the distance.

The sudden downpour had caught everyone off guard that afternoon, and even now, figures could still be seen moving about in the rain near the Changzhou docks. In truth, the real chaos had already died down during the evening rain, when the many boats had come in to dock, rushing to load and unload cargo and secure their vessels. Those still out working in the storm now were mostly merchants who’d run into some mishap and couldn’t afford the losses, having paid good money to hire boat hands not too afraid of risking their lives, hauling cargo in the rain.

Across the whole dock, wind and rain howled, and whenever lightning flashed, it revealed perhaps two or three spots still showing signs of activity. The busiest, by far, was on the eastern side of the docks, where the waves could be seen pushing the densely packed boats on the river into a churning, heaving mass; near one cargo ship, a number of people were still hauling goods on and off, the wind buffeting them back and forth like ants, shouting loudly over the storm. Torches burned aboard the cargo ship, and not far off, a building belonging to the docks was lit as well — they were apparently trying to move some of the goods from the ship into that building.

This cargo ship belonged to a large trading firm from the Jiangsu-Zhejiang region, the family name Lou. The ship had been carrying a load of goods south when it developed trouble near Changzhou, and with the heavy rain hitting at the same time, they’d been forced to dock hastily. They’d originally hoped to wait out the storm at the docks, but once night fell they discovered the problem with the ship was more serious than they’d thought, and with so much cargo still aboard, to avoid a worse disaster, they’d had no choice but to hire workers willing to risk their lives, to unload some of the cargo first and lighten the ship’s load.

Of course, even in weather this violent, with little enough light to see by, and the workers at constant risk of being blown over or knocked into the water, the river itself wasn’t especially deep, and most of the boatmen were fairly strong swimmers — and it being summer besides, falling in probably wouldn’t be fatal. If it weren’t for that, no amount of money would have convinced anyone to take the job.

By now the sky and earth alike seemed filled with the howling wind of the storm, and closer to the docks, one could faintly make out the creaking, chaotic sound of hundreds of boats swaying on the water. The dockhands hauled cargo through the rain, swaying unsteadily as they made their way to the building by the dock where torchlight glowed — the room looked rather simple and bare inside, and the soaked-through workers carried the goods in and stacked them in the middle, while attendants from the trading firm bustled about, taking inventory.

At a window on one side of the room, several people stood gazing out into the darkness, watching the hull of the ship rising and falling faintly in the rain. At the front was a woman dressed in vivid, brightly colored clothing, her hair already soaked through; a maid behind her handed her a towel, and she used it to wipe the water from her face. Rain still blew in through the window even now, though a man dressed as a scholar stood beside her, shielding her partly from it.

“How’s the boat? Can it be repaired? It won’t sink, will it?”

It was the brightly dressed woman asking the question. A man who had just run in from outside answered while wiping the water from his face. “Reporting to young miss — it’s already reached the dock, so it shouldn’t sink. But this weather is just too terrible, repairs will be difficult. We’ll still need to get some more of the cargo off the ship.”

“Then keep unloading it.”

“Understood.”

The man nodded and went off to comply. With that said, the woman turned to look out the window again, her expression darkening somewhat. A good portion of the cargo on this ship was porcelain and other fragile goods, and given what was happening now, losses were inevitable — her mood was not good. The man beside her, who had been shielding her from the rain, turned and said, “Shuwan, everyone’s already out there working — there’s no need for you to keep standing here watching. It’s not good for you to get rained on either. Why don’t you come inside a bit?”

The two were, evidently, a married couple. The woman glanced at him, her expression still somewhat dark, but then suddenly broke into a smile and turned to walk off. The scholarly-looking man followed after her with a smile, and the two of them stood talking by the wall, the man clearly trying hard to say something amusing to make her laugh, while everyone else nearby — including the maids — tactfully drifted away, knowing better than to intrude. The woman exchanged a few words with the man, then glanced out the window again, clearly still worried about the cargo ship.

After a while longer, another boat could be seen approaching the shore near the docks through the storm. It was a two-story pleasure boat, evidently belonging to a family of some means, out on an excursion that had run into this storm and was now making for Changzhou. The boat moved along fairly steadily despite the violent weather, firelight flickering within the cabin — apparently torches lit for illumination — casting the shapes of figures against the darkness.

A boat coming in to dock at a time like this wasn’t especially unusual — after all, stragglers arriving late sometimes happened. That pleasure boat had docked not far off, and so it drew a bit of attention. In weather like this, docking a boat wasn’t easy; the crew used bamboo poles to brace against the shore, working carefully for a long while before they finally managed, with difficulty, to bring the boat to a steady stop. The people coming down from it had just as hard a time — with the wind and rain so fierce, the gangplank couldn’t be set steadily, and most people ended up more or less jumping down instead. The group, wrapped in straw rain capes, included women and children, helped or caught by the men who went down first; it took quite a while before the several dozen people had all disembarked and made their way to shelter beneath some nearby eaves, where they lit torches.

Though the wind and rain were fierce, some of the children among them still seemed rather delighted, running about under the eaves shouting some strange phrase like “great and powerful heavenly dragon,” poking their heads out to look this way now and then before being called back by their parents. After what seemed like a headcount, they began discussing leaving the docks.

In weather like this, no one had much attention to spare for anyone else, and the people in the room only glanced briefly toward the new arrivals before turning their focus back to their own troubled cargo ship. The woman named Lou Shuwan chatted a while longer with the scholar, then went back to frowning and asking about the boat and the cargo — but at one point, glancing toward the eaves outside the door, a flash of lightning happened to strike at just that moment, and she found herself momentarily taken aback.

Under those eaves, three torches burned in the hands of the gathered travelers, whipped about fiercely by the wind, giving off only a modest light. Some of the group were laughing and talking, undoing their rain capes only to pull them tight again; in the flashes of lightning, one could just make out the smiles on their faces. That people could still be laughing and joking in weather like this suggested their spirits were in fine form. But one particular face among them seemed to stir a faint memory in the woman watching from the window.

“Hm? Shuwan, what are you looking at?”

Lou Shuwan opened her mouth as if to answer, then turned her gaze back to the man beside her, her expression growing distant and impatient instead. “It’s nothing.”

In weather like this, there was no way to make anything out clearly anyway, and it wasn’t as though it were an especially important memory. She shook her head and turned her thoughts back to her own family’s business — this whole delay was thoroughly unwelcome, damned rainy weather — and then found herself growing rather annoyed at how tiresome the man beside her seemed at the moment, taking a sudden dislike to him.

…

Though her mood remained poor, there was little use fretting over it for now. Before long, once the cargo had mostly been unloaded and the ship’s situation had stabilized somewhat, they left the docks and made their way back through the rain to their inn. The Lou family’s business was based mainly in Hangzhou, with Changzhou being only a stop along the way; they were staying at one of the finest inns in the area. With the storm having come on so suddenly, few other travelers were staying there that night, and the inn seemed rather quiet as they returned from their outing that evening.

After having a maid bring hot water for a quick bath, Lou Shuwan called in a steward who had accompanied them to discuss the matter of the cargo ship. Summer storms tended to come on fast and pass just as quickly, and though the ship couldn’t sail until repaired, most of the cargo aboard was undamaged — only a small portion, promised to other parties, couldn’t afford further delay, which meant they’d need to consider chartering another boat. After a brief discussion of the matter, the steward left, and the scholarly-looking man, who had likewise finished bathing and freshening up in another room, came in — evidently aware she’d been occupied with business matters, he’d been waiting outside for a while already.

With business still weighing on her mind, she frowned slightly when the scholar shut the door, exchanged a few playful words, and came to embrace her, clearly intent on intimacy. Displeased though she was, she didn’t push him away either. But just as her outer robe had been slipped off, she heard someone knocking at the door downstairs in the main hall, and what sounded like a fair number of people entering after. Curious, she pushed the scholar back, threw her robe back on, and opened the window to look — there were perhaps twenty-some people down in the hall shedding their rain capes, two children running back and forth among them — the same group they’d seen at the docks earlier.

“What is it?”

The scholar came closer, leaning in to look out the window as well. The woman’s brow furrowed slightly, her gaze sweeping over the crowd below for a long moment before she finally pushed him away. “Go on to bed. I’m not in the mood tonight… there’s someone down there I recognize.”

“Oh?” The scholar’s interest was piqued, and he leaned down to look again. “Looks like some official family out on an excursion.”

In weather like this, umbrellas were useless, and although this group had worn rain capes, having made it this far, they were soaked through regardless. Several of the women among them, unable to change clothes right away, had thrown on light cloaks instead — but judging from what could be seen of their clothing beneath, this was clearly a fairly well-off group.

Down in the main hall, the scene was chaotic — the innkeeper and staff busy arranging rooms, the new arrivals calling for hot water and carrying in luggage, the whole hall bustling with noise and activity. Even so, it was easy enough to tell master from servant among them; one woman in particular, gathering her wet hair to one side, was speaking to those around her with her head tilted, apparently giving instructions of some kind — carrying, in fact, something of the same bearing Lou Shuwan herself usually had. The woman was tall and slender, strikingly beautiful. The scholar glanced at her a few times, and Lou Shuwan pointed her out.

“That woman’s surname is Su — I’ve met her before, I know her. Her family’s in Jiangning, it’s been several years now — I never expected to run into her here.”

“Shall we go say hello?”

“No rush…” Lou Shuwan said, then paused to think. “Though… she has a boat, and it looks like she’s heading south too. If that’s the case…” She trailed off, glancing down again. Seeing that the attendant seemed to have finished arranging rooms and was now leading the group upstairs, she closed the window, straightened her clothes slightly, and then opened the door and stepped out…