Before dawn, Yu Jinsheng, Shu Changfeng's most adept man at gathering information, knocked on the door of the cabin belonging to the young gang leader Bai, which they had staked out the previous night.
The narrow, low cabin door creaked open. The room was pitch black. Yu Jinsheng struck a flint lighter and found the bed empty, the quilt half-turned, the window wide open, and a damp chill hitting his face.
He reached out and felt the bedding—it was still warm.
"You're saying... Bai Shiqi is missing?" Zhao Wujiu was waiting on the deck before daybreak, the cold wind in his face. Shu Changfeng, worried he might catch a chill, had specially wrapped a blanket around his knees, pleased by his recent frequent ventures out of his cabin and inwardly thanking Bai Shiqi hundreds of times.
Yu Jinsheng was a master at gathering intelligence in the army. Who would have thought that since boarding the Jiangsu Gang's grain transport ship and encountering Bai Shiqi, he would repeatedly hit a wall, his golden reputation nearly shattered by the young gang leader.
He hung his head, deeply ashamed. "Last night, I watched Young Gang Leader Bai enter his room with my own eyes. I didn't even doze off. This morning, I went to knock on his door at the appointed time, but... he escaped through the window."
The side of the cabin where Bai Shiqi slept last night had windows facing the water, with no walkway beside them. Unwilling to give up, Yu Jinsheng muttered, "Young Gang Leader Bai couldn't have... jumped from the window and fallen into the canal, could he?"
Zhao Ziheng had just been dragged from his bed by Zhao Wujiu and was slumped on the deck, pretending to be dead. At these words, he curled his lip. "Don't worry. Even if Seventeen fell into the canal, he wouldn't drown." He leaned over, clutching the armrest of the wheelchair, pleading tearfully, "Cousin, I have a fever! I got sick from being in the water yesterday. How can you bear to make me exercise?"
Zhao Wujiu's cool hand lightly touched his forehead. "You do feel a bit warm." He showed no mercy. "It's still because your constitution is too weak. Run a few more laps, work up a sweat, and the fever will break."
With a howl of despair, Zhao Ziheng was already being supported by two guards and forced to start running...
On the canal, boats traveling through the night hung lanterns at their bows. Time crawled slowly to the sound of Zhao Ziheng's ox-like panting. The sky above seemed like an overturned, pitch-black pot. Now, someone had quietly lifted a crack in that pot, letting a sliver of light seep through, sketching faint, blurry outlines of the fields and villages along the canal banks.
Those outlines gradually sharpened. Daylight broke, and the darkness receded like a tide in an instant. A new day arrived. The golden crow struggled over the horizon, spreading a brilliant, golden light along both banks of the river.
Shu Changfeng stood quietly behind Zhao Wujiu. He heard villagers on the embankment leading their oxen and singing rustic tunes. Time passed slowly and leisurely, as if it could wash away the dust of ten years of campaigning.
The grain transport workers on the ship got up one after another and began moving about on the deck. Some went to relieve their night-watch companions. The whole transport ship became lively. Finally, Zhao Wujiu gave the order, ending Zhao Ziheng's morning exercise for the day.
Zhao Ziheng was drenched in sweat. Even after several days of training, his muscles remained soft. His legs trembled as he used all his strength to cling to Yu Jinsheng, so the man could help him back to his room.
Just as the group reached the top-level cabins, a lazy voice came from Bai Shiqi's room: "Who is first aware of the great dream? In this life, I myself know best..."
Suddenly, Zhao Ziheng's back didn't ache, his legs didn't hurt, and his breathing... grew heavy—with anger. He pushed open the cabin door huffily. The scene inside was laid bare before them: Bai Shiqi was leaning against the headboard, one leg crossed over the other, a quilt draped over his waist, looking for all the world like he had just woken up. Seeing the silent group at the cabin door, he waved cheerfully. "Good morning, Cousin! You're up early too, Ziheng!"
Zhao Ziheng stomped heavily across the floorboards, venting his dissatisfaction. "Bai Shiqi—"
Bai Shiqi, in good spirits, scooted over a bit and patted the empty space on the bed beside him, exceedingly understanding. "Tired? Lie down and rest? Breakfast should be ready soon."
Zhao Ziheng: "Are you still my brother or not?"
Bai Shiqi looked surprised. "Where did that come from? If I weren't your brother, would I have jumped into the river without a second thought to save you when I saw you sinking?" He wore a look of disdain. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Ziheng, you're being a bit ungrateful. Is this how you treat your lifesaver?"
Zhao Ziheng was left speechless. But seeing himself exhausted and panting like an ox while his good brother lazed about in bed catching extra sleep made him deeply resentful. He could only cast a pleading look at Zhao Wujiu and say pitifully, "Cousin—"
Zhao Wujiu pushed his wheelchair inside, his face full of disapproval. "Seventeen, hiding lazily in your cabin during such fine hours. Do you not know that excellence in work comes from diligence and is wasted by idleness..."
As soon as this lecturing, headmaster-like tone emerged, Bai Shiqi felt goosebumps all over. He "sprang" up from the bed, looking hurried. "Cousin, I have matters to attend to today. I still need to arrange the upcoming competition. You and Ziheng have breakfast first. I'll go make the arrangements."
The doorway was still blocked by several of Zhao Wujiu's personal guards. He pulled open the window and leaped out in a flash. Everyone else was startled. Zhao Ziheng had already cried out, "Seventeen, don't jump! It's dangerous!"
This window faced the river and was on the ship's top deck—jumping was truly no different from leaping into the water. In his haste, Zhao Wujiu propelled his wheelchair straight toward it. Zhao Ziheng also rushed to the window. The two brothers leaned out to look and saw Bai Shiqi hanging from the window of the deck below like a monkey, even making a face at the two of them.
Below him was the rushing canal. Above, his fiery red robe billowed in the wind. He plummeted toward the canal like a falling bird, startling Zhao Ziheng so much he screamed and shut his eyes.
Zhao Wujiu, having campaigned for many years and faced countless life-and-death moments, almost broke out in a cold sweat himself. But he saw that scoundrel, just as he was about to plunge into the canal, land on the ship's gunwale, its side almost flush with the cabin wall.
That protruding edge of the gunwale was about as wide as a grown man's palm. Yet Bai Shiqi walked along that narrow side as if no one was watching. Once past the most dangerous part, even though there was wider footing below, he reached out, grabbed a horizontal beam, and flipped over. As if sensing Zhao Wujiu's gaze from the top deck, he made another ugly face. A flash of fiery red robe, and he was gone.
Zhao Ziheng still had his hands over his eyes, asking tremulously, "Did he... did he fall?"
He had choked on several mouthfuls of canal water yesterday. Even now, remembering the moment he sank, his heart still quailed with fear.
Zhao Wujiu patted his cousin's big head. "Alright, alright. He's already gone." Just now, during Bai Shiqi's leaps and bounds, he had involuntarily held his breath. In that moment, he suddenly understood the Gang Leader Bai's method of raising his son—with a child like this, nothing short of the rod could keep him in check.
Was Bai Shiqi a mere wastrel? He was clearly a reckless, audacious scoundrel, his eyes full of defiance, diving headlong into danger. No wonder Yu Jinsheng, his best intelligence man, kept running into walls. That kid tread dangerous ground as if it were level ground—others simply didn't have that skill.
Having grasped this point, Zhao Wujiu also knew that ordinary morning drills could never truly restrain her. For the first time, he had to inwardly admit his own defeat.
Shortly after, breakfast was sent up from the kitchen. The two cousins ate at the same table, with Zhao Ziheng repeatedly confirming, "Cousin, is Shiqi really alright?"
Zhao Wujiu wished he could knock some sense into his big head: "What do you think could possibly be wrong with him?"
"True, even if Shiqi fell into the river, he wouldn't drown." Even so, he was filled with admiration for his good friend's daring. To rebel against his cousin's oppression and escape the morning drills, he actually dared to jump into the river. Just that sheer audacity was something Zhao Ziheng himself lacked. If he had even half of Shiqi's courage, perhaps he wouldn't be drilled to the point of wishing for death by his cousin's personal guards every single day.
Zhao Ziheng, however, was merely entertaining the thought. After yesterday's danger, he had come to a realization today. When he returned to the deck, he gave up on all the other competitions, deciding to content himself as a mere spectator. Upon seeing Bai Shiqi, he was so excited he nearly gave her a hug: "Shiqi, you really are fine!"
Bai Shiqi teased with a smile, "Ziheng, not participating today?"
Zhao Ziheng was dressed even more flamboyantly than Bai Shiqi today, with a jade pendant at his waist, a golden crown on his head, wide sleeves on his robe, and a jade-handled folding fan in his hand. If someone moved over ink, brush, paper, and inkstone, he might very well compose a clumsy poem on the spot. "Participate? Not today, I'm just here to watch. But how about you? Want to give it a try? Your canal workers all say you're amazing at climbing the mast. Let me see for myself?"
Zhao Wujiu thought to himself: Climbing the mast... is probably child's play for Young Gang Leader Bai.
