Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Ferry Crossing

At a ferry crossing somewhere in Lingnan

When the ferry reached the northern bank, the passengers vied to disembark, creating a crowded scene.

“Make way, make way!” As Li Sanjian was about to step off the boat, two burly men pushed up from behind. Whether it was due to urgency or something else, they leapt onto the gangplank, shoving forcefully, and sent the frail Li Sanjian tumbling off with a splash into the water.

Fortunately, the boat was close to shore, and the river was shallow, only reaching to Li Sanjian’s calves. Even so, the water splashed up, thoroughly soaking the hem of his long robe.

Dazed and bewildered, Li Sanjian stood awkwardly in the water, staring blankly at the two crude men who had shoved him.

The two men cast a contemptuous glance at Li Sanjian, then turned as if to walk away.

A scholar is still a scholar—feeble and useless. Just a nudge and he’s sent sprawling.

“Scoundrels! How dare you bully my brother! Don’t you dare run!” Before Li Sanjian could react, Gao Er, who had been standing nearby, flew into a rage. Brandishing his short staff, he charged forward, pointing and cursing at the two men.

The rough men turned at his words, looked at Gao Er, and jeered, “You little runt, today we’ll bully you too! What are you going to do, suck your grandpa’s thumb?”

Li Sanjian was not yet sixteen, and compared to grown men, he seemed short. Gao Er, too, was small but sturdy, appearing almost scrawny. The two men were not intimidated in the least, grinning lewdly and hurling crude insults.

Gao Er’s anger boiled over. With a shout, he gripped his staff in both hands, leapt into the air, and swung it down at one man’s head.

The staff whistled through the air, its force impressive and fierce.

The man could not evade in time, hurriedly raising his own staff to block.

Seeing him defend, Gao Er did not finish his original strike. Instead, he twisted his wrist, deftly flicking the man’s staff aside, then thrust his own forward, jabbing the man’s right shoulder.

“Ow!” Gao Er struck hard; his thrust sent the man sprawling to the ground, pain shooting through his right shoulder and arm, leaving them numb and useless for the moment.

“Rascal! Filthy wretch! You’re courting death!” the other man roared, swinging his staff at Gao Er’s waist.

Gao Er bent his knees, right foot forward, left foot back, ducking low to evade the blow. The staff whooshed past, barely grazing his scalp.

With a low shout, Gao Er swung his own staff, striking the man’s shin.

A crack echoed—down went the man, staff flying from his grasp, clutching his leg and groaning in pain.

The shin is one of the body’s weakest points and bears much of one’s weight. Gao Er hated being called a wretch more than anything, so his strike was merciless, nearly shattering the man’s bone. Had it broken, the man would have been crippled for life.

In the blink of an eye, both men were left groaning on the ground, one clutching his foot, the other his shoulder, unable to rise.

“Kneel down and beg for forgiveness, or today I’ll finish you right here!” Gao Er, emboldened by his advantage, pointed his staff at them, cursing with glee.

“Bah! You filthy mongrel, you think we’ll beg? Not a chance...” The two men, tough as ever, refused to yield, cursing back between groans.

But...

But they had touched upon Gao Er’s sore spot. He had once come from a good family, well-versed in the classics, with neat handwriting and some martial skills—a scholar who could both read and fight, if not a master of either. Such qualities were why Su Shi had accepted him as a companion. Only after his family’s decline and a legal entanglement did Gao Er become Su Shi’s retainer. In truth, Su Shi treated him as a companion in study, not a servant.

Thus, nothing enraged Gao Er more than being called another’s servant.

Face dark with rage, Gao Er raised his staff, about to strike again.

As the staff was about to land, a wooden pole suddenly shot out from the side, intercepting Gao Er’s blow.

The two poles clashed with a sharp crack, and Gao Er’s staff was knocked aside. He felt his grip numb, nearly losing hold of his weapon.

“Brother, show mercy when you can. There’s no need to drive people to ruin.” A tall figure stepped between the two rough men and Gao Er, speaking coldly.

This newcomer was young, perhaps twenty, but his frame was broad and powerful, his shoulders thick, his body muscular. He bore no beard on his chin, only a thick mustache above his lip, and his arms were knotted with muscle, tattooed in two places—a figure of imposing strength.

Compared to him, the short Gao Er barely reached his shoulder.

A flicker of unease appeared in Gao Er’s eyes as he stared, stunned. The exchange had lasted but a moment, yet Gao Er knew instantly he was no match for this man.

“Thirteenth Brother, teach this wretch a lesson for us!”

“Ow, it hurts! Thirteenth Brother, hurry! Of all of us, you’re the best fighter—go on!” The two on the ground, seeing their savior arrive, scrambled up and hid behind the tall man, shouting for vengeance.

“Enough! You were in the wrong first. How can you behave like this?” the tall man rebuked them sharply.

The two rough men, cowed, fell silent at his anger.

“Brother, my name is Li Sanjian. My brother may have offended you; I apologize on his behalf.” Having climbed ashore, Li Sanjian observed the tall man’s sense of justice and felt a certain respect. He stepped forward and bowed.

The man, seeing Li Sanjian’s gentle features and courteous manner, warmed to him as well. “It’s nothing—just a misunderstanding. Are you hurt?” he asked.

Though cordial, there was a trace of arrogance in his bearing, and perhaps some disdain for scholars.

“I’m fine, just a little wet,” Li Sanjian replied quickly.

The tall man nodded and turned to look at his companions.

One had a hurt shoulder, the other a battered shin. The shoulder wound was not serious, but the man with the injured shin had an ankle badly swollen, unable to walk. Whether the bone was broken, none could say.

The tall man frowned at the injury, uncertain what to do. They were not locals, but men from She County, sent to Lingnan by their master to trade in lacquer and other goods. All were laborers of modest means. Such an injury posed two problems: first, their journey would be delayed; second, treatment would cost money, and their scant funds barely sufficed for daily needs. It was a thorny predicament.

Seeing the man’s troubled look and recognizing their poverty by their attire, Li Sanjian understood. From his bundle he took two strings of coins and said, “Brother, it’s not much, but let this elder see a doctor.”

Though the fault lay with the rough men, it was still Gao Er who had struck them. Life on the road was hard for all. Even so, Li Sanjian could offer only a little, and Gao Er likely had even less.

The tall man’s brow furrowed as he was about to refuse. No matter how poor, they had their pride and would not accept charity.

“Fang Shisan, what are you doing?” Just then, two riders hurried up—a young woman on horseback called out.

Li Sanjian quickly turned his face away...

Who else could it be but Chen Ke’er and her brother Chen Sen? Li Sanjian, as the top scorer in the provincial exam, should have visited the Chen family manor to thank Chen Zao for his care. But now, expelled by Su Shi, he was too ashamed to face his former mentor, and therefore had no face to meet Chen Zao, Chen Sen, or Chen Ke’er.

He turned away, but Chen Ke’er spotted him at once. She leapt from her horse, looked at him in puzzlement, and asked, “Bookworm, what are you doing here? What happened?”

She then cast a questioning glance at Fang Shisan and Li Sanjian, unsure what had transpired between them.

Li Sanjian turned back, awkwardly, about to answer when Fang Shisan interjected, “Greetings, young mistress Chen.”

“You know each other?” Li Sanjian asked in surprise.

“Brother Fang is a guest of my father’s. What’s going on here? What happened?” Chen Ke’er replied.

How could this man be a guest of Chen Zao? Li Sanjian was even more baffled, but did not pursue it, simply saying, “It’s nothing, just a misunderstanding between myself and Brother Fang.”

Fang Shisan nodded in agreement. There was no deep enmity, and he was not inclined to prolong matters.

“Oh... I see.” Chen Ke’er remained half skeptical.

She was no fool—two men still lay on the ground. Clearly, there had been a conflict.

“Brother Fang, Ke’er, Brother Chen, I must be on my way. Farewell.” With a bow, Li Sanjian turned to drag Gao Er away. Out of sight, out of mind—best to leave quickly and spare everyone further embarrassment, he thought.

“Bookworm, you stop right there!” Chen Ke’er put her hands on her hips and called after him.

“Young mistress Chen... is there something you wish to say?” Li Sanjian asked awkwardly.

“Now that you’ve topped the exam, your tail is up in the air? You won’t even spare a few words for me?” she scolded.

At her words, Fang Shisan and the others glanced at Li Sanjian in surprise.

So young, and already the top scholar! Truly, one cannot judge by appearances—the sea cannot be measured by a bucket!