Bai Shiqi had been on tenterhooks the entire journey, fearing that Zhao Wujiu, with his rigid adherence to rules, would cite legal statutes to stop her from conducting trade along the way. As it turned out, this man was likely too troubled by his leg ailment and never brought it up.
After she first pushed Zhao Wujiu off the boat for a stroll, she went the next day to fully appreciate Zhao Ziheng's miserable state after his horse stance training. That's when Shu Changfeng found her: "Young Master Bai, could I trouble you to take my master out for another walk?"
At that time, the grain transport ship was sailing smoothly on the canal. Bai Shiqi didn't quite understand his meaning: "Go where? The ship isn't docking today."
Shu Changfeng offered an eager smile: "Ever since my master developed his leg ailment, he hasn't even been willing to leave his room. After coming back yesterday, his mood seemed much better, so..." His group of personal guards were accustomed to obeying orders. None of them had the nerve to go against Prince Zhou's wishes, so they had set their sights on Bai Shiqi.
"What's in it for me?" Bai Shiqi used the tip of her foot to nudge the stiff muscles of Zhao Ziheng's calf, eliciting constant cries of pain from him: "Ow, ow, ow..."
Shu Changfeng: "..."
Bai Shiqi didn't care what Shu Changfeng was thinking. As long as Zhao Wujiu didn't come looking for trouble, she, a young master with her own pride, naturally didn't much enjoy frequently facing an aloof and distant expression unless absolutely necessary. She squatted down, clapped her palms together, and proceeded to fiercely slap and knead the muscles of Zhao Ziheng's left calf, completely ignoring his howls of agony. She only stopped when the muscles under her palms felt much looser: "Get up and try."
The personal guards under Zhao Wujiu employed particularly brutal methods when drilling Zhao Ziheng. After just a few days of horse stances, they started teaching him boxing. For Zhao Ziheng, who had been raised in the lap of luxury and had never so much as picked up a needle since childhood, the intensity of the training manifested quite miserably on his body.
He constantly suspected that he had been drilled until all his bones were falling apart, walking with a clatter as if dragging a pile of precarious parts, ready to drop a forearm or an arm at any moment. The worst part was that every single muscle in his body ached. His stomach felt as if someone had secretly ripped off a large piece of it. When Bai Shiqi acted up, he could only manage two laughs before his expression twisted and he clutched his stomach, falling silent—it hurt so damn much.
The muscles in his limbs were even worse. The external skin was perfectly intact, but the inside ached for no reason, as if beneath the unblemished skin was wrapped a pile of minced meat. When he walked, the minced meat rubbed against each other, causing even more pain. He described his pain as "not even the death by a thousand cuts could compare," which only earned him a lecture from Zhao Wujiu: "Lacking daily exercise, pampered and spoiled—how is that like a man?!"
Zhao Ziheng, with a wilted head, said, "Whether I'm a man or not is no concern of yours, cousin. Many young ladies in the capital can attest to that!"
This was his indirect way of admitting his own unrestrained philandering, which Zhao Wujiu found utterly intolerable. Consequently, the morning drills were not only extended in duration but also doubled in intensity, "to help vent his excess energy"—those were Zhao Wujiu's exact words.
During this time, Bai Shiqi, using her status as the ship's owner, cleverly avoided Zhao Ziheng's morning drill times, appearing punctually at the scene right after his training each day to mock her good buddy.
Now, sprawled on the deck, Zhao Ziheng gritted his teeth, struggled to his feet, and took a couple of steps. He clearly felt that his left calf, which had just been ravaged by his good buddy, was much more comfortable. The soreness, pain, and stiffness were greatly alleviated, filling him with pleasant surprise: "Come, come, give this lord a pounding on the right calf too. Do it well and there's a reward!"
Bai Shiqi squatted down to ravage his calf again and, amidst Zhao Ziheng's cries of mingled agony and relief, looked up with a fawning expression: "My lord, I beg for a generous reward!"
Shu Changfeng: What a pair of shameless rogues!
Suddenly, inspiration struck him, and he found another way to communicate with Bai Shiqi: "Young Master Bai, if you could push my master out for some fresh air every day, we could actually discuss some compensation."
Bai Shiqi: "Talking about silver hurts feelings, doesn't it? How about we set up a game, run the bank, and bet on big or small?"
Zhao Ziheng eagerly signed up: "Count me in, count me in! Ouch, you could be... a little gentler! Come on, give my thighs a rub too." The voyage was boring, and he was already suffering enough torture from his cousin. Finding a few people to play with to pass the time wasn't a bad idea.
Bai Shiqi called out to a passing canal worker: "Ah Wu, go to the kitchen and fetch a rolling pin."
In his cabin, Zhao Wujiu heard the noisy clamor on the deck outside, with Zhao Ziheng's agonized cries reaching a high pitch, carrying a sense of desperate struggle. He pushed his wheelchair to the window and saw from afar a scene that astonished him.
Bai Shiqi was holding a stick, switching spots as she repeatedly struck Zhao Ziheng's thighs, whipping him until he hopped and screamed in pain. Yet, he remained in place, obediently taking the beating. How utterly strange.
It was a bit far, especially since the passenger cabins were on the ship's top deck, while the main deck was lower. Apart from Zhao Ziheng's ghostly wails, he couldn't hear anyone else speaking.
A quarter of an hour later, the cabin door was knocked open. Bai Shiqi appeared before him with a radiant smile and, without waiting for permission, stepped forward to push the wheelchair: "The autumn scenery outside is just lovely. What's the point of you, cousin, staying cooped up alone in your room? You should go to the deck and enjoy the view. We've organized a leitai sai competition, and we sincerely request your esteemed presence!"
Zhao Wujiu thought to himself: What mischief is this slick kid up to now?
He asked, "Why were you beating Ziheng earlier?"
Bai Shiqi spouted nonsense: "His skin was itchy. A good thrashing settles him down. I just saw that you, cousin, weren't in a convenient position to do it, so I took the liberty of helping out."
Zhao Wujiu: I'd be a fool to believe you!
A large area on the deck had now been marked out. All the idle crew members had been gathered. Uncle Guan was banging a broken gong and announcing: "Same old rules, everyone. Get to it! If you win, the Young Master has rewards! But today, fellow passengers on the ship are also welcome to join. Go register with Scholar Yunping and get a number plate. See which event you'd like to enter?"
Zhao Ziheng muttered to himself: "Scholar Yunping? The Scholar Yunping who writes books?"
A crowd surged over chaotically, drowning out his question and sweeping him along to the registration desk.
A registration desk had been set up on one side of the deck. A young man who looked like a scholar, holding a worn-out brush and squinting with bleary, drunken eyes, was calling out: "Come over, come over, everyone register." That was probably the aforementioned Scholar Yunping.
Qiu Yunping had been living a life of drunken oblivion on the ship for many days, practically like a recluse. He had just been dug out of his bed by someone sent by Bai Shiqi, dragged to the deck to work, and was still yawning, not fully sober from the previous night's drinking. Seeing Bai Shiqi, he was greatly displeased and shouted from afar: "Shiqi, come here."
Bai Shiqi pushed Zhao Wujiu over. People naturally made way, opening a path straight to the registration desk. She said with a beaming smile, "Qiu Yunping, you're awake?" Then she admonished him: "Don't drink so much lately, or there'll be no one to host the leitai sai competition along the way."
Qiu Yunping was deeply suspicious: "Shiqi, you drink as much as I do. Why are you so full of energy? You're not drinking plain water, are you?"
Bai Shiqi was both amused and exasperated: "Don't blame me for your poor alcohol tolerance."
During these days, Shu Changfeng hadn't been going all out to catch her, only to find out she had been holed up in the lower hold every night drinking with Qiu Yunping and checking the accounts for this trip. She hadn't been idle at all.
Zhao Wujiu felt the name "Qiu Yunping" sounded somewhat familiar. His gaze swept over Shu Changfeng, who was already greatly surprised to see Bai Shiqi pushing his master out for a walk. This young gang leader Bai seemed to have eaten something that made her bold enough to completely ignore Prince Zhou's cold expression and refusing eyes, managing to push him out for a stroll again and again.
Anyway, no matter what, it was a good thing if it could get his master out to get some air and not be cooped up to the point of illness. Shu Changfeng resolved not to worry about this matter anymore. Hearing the name "Qiu Yunping" again shocked him even more. Receiving his master's questioning look, he couldn't help but ask excitedly: "Qiu Yunping... could that be the writer, Master Yunping?"
Bai Shiqi's reaction was bland: "Oh, Qiu Yunping did write a few lousy books as an unproductive sideline."
Outsiders all rumored that Qiu Yunping was a down-and-out scholar, but he possessed a divine pen. Several of his chivalric and supernatural novels, with their dramatic and suspenseful plots, were extremely popular. Many opera troupes and storytellers performed them everywhere, gradually making him famous far and wide. In later terms, he would be a bestselling author, a master storyteller, and a highly skilled cliffhanger. His "more on that in the next chapter" kept readers on tenterhooks and was a favorite of storytellers, hooking audiences and making them linger.
Although Shu Changfeng and the others were stationed far at the border, every time they followed Zhao Wujiu back to the capital, hearing Master Yunping's stories in the marketplace greatly relieved the hardships of frontier life. They greatly admired this Master Yunping's imagination. Even Zhao Wujiu had heard snippets when his guards talked about them.
"Master Yunping? Really, Master Yunping?!"
Shu Changfeng and a group of guards around him all crowded over to greet Qiu Yunping, expressing their admiration one after another.
Qiu Yunping was very pleased: "Are you all here to sign up? Come take a look, which events do you want to join?" He pulled out a worn, frayed competition rulebook from the side and handed it over: "The registration fee is fifty copper coins per person. Pay up first."
Shu Changfeng and the guards: "..." Their idol's image instantly shattered.
"There's a fee to compete?"
Qiu Yunping smiled amiably: "This is also our young gang leader's idea. She says only by paying the registration fee can one fully commit to the competition, because there are high-value prizes and bonuses later, and everyone has a chance."
Zhao Wujiu thought: Just how many more strange theories does this kid have?
He asked: "How did Qiu Yunping end up on your boat?" He finally dug out this person's background from the depths of his memory.
Bai Shiqi: "He's my accountant, cousin. You might not know, managing accounts is very tedious. Qiu Yunping is a wine jug and a money-grubber combined, so hiring him is just right." Of course, she omitted the process of hiring him.
At this moment, Qiu Yunping was shaking his bald brush to register. A young lad next to him brought out a box to collect money, while another lad handed out number plates, reminding first-time participants: "Be careful not to mix up the number plates; the color is different for each event."
Zhao Ziheng squeezed over, also wanting to say a few words to Master Yunping. He just started excitedly asking: "Really, Master Yunping?"
Qiu Yunping readily admitted: "Yes, yes, it's me, the one who writes books. Do you want to sign up for all events, young master? That'll be five hundred copper coins in total."
Zhao Ziheng didn't even look at the competition rules. He muddle-headedly took out the money, hugged a pile of number plates, and squeezed back out in a daze, a suspicious, dreamy smile still lingering on his lips.
Bai Shiqi was dumbfounded: "Ziheng, do you know how to swim?"
Zhao Ziheng came back to his senses: "Huh? No."
She pointed to one of the number plates painted red: "Then why did you sign up for the swimming event?" She added with some sympathy: "And... you have to catch fish in the river too."
Zhao Ziheng grinned foolishly: "Master Yunping told me to sign up."
