Chapter Sixty-Two: The Eighteen Treacherous Rapids

The scenery of Jiangnan was picturesque, yet Li Sanchuan had no heart to admire it. He pressed onward and arrived at the dock in Qianzhou.

Li Sanchuan had already made inquiries. If one wished to travel to the capital, Kaifeng, by water, the journey began in Qianzhou. From there, one would board a boat and sail north along the Gan River, first reaching Raozhou, then passing through Poyang Lake to arrive at Jiangzhou, before continuing northward.

In this way, one could reach the capital more quickly. Yet Li Sanchuan’s sole concern was the cost of passage. Zeng Gongming need not worry; he was likely carrying ample funds. But Fu Ernang, Mountain Chief, Little Sprout, and the others would have to rely on Li Sanchuan. Gao Er was self-sufficient, but Li Sanchuan estimated his funds only covered his own expenses, not those of others.

Along the way, Zeng Gongming had already paid for many inns, and Li Sanchuan felt embarrassed to let him continue shouldering the costs, lest Fu Ernang find fault with it.

When Li Sanchuan and his companions reached the dock in Qianzhou, he realized he faced not only the problem of passage fees, but also whether there was even a boat available.

At this moment, only a single medium-sized boat was moored at the modest river port, standing solitary on the river at Qianzhou.

Onboard, several boatmen gripped their poles preparing to set off.

“Elder, does your boat pass by Raozhou? Might you grant us the convenience of taking us along?” Li Sanchuan called out loudly to an older boatman.

“This boat is commissioned by the authorities, bound for the capital. Young master wishes to go to Raozhou? That is on our way. If the official aboard consents, I can grant you passage,” the elderly boatman replied cheerfully.

Li Sanchuan was overjoyed. Wasn’t this exactly what they hoped for? No need to switch boats or take unnecessary detours, and they could reach Kaifeng swiftly.

But Li Sanchuan did not know whether the official aboard would permit them to join.

He hurriedly consulted with the boatmen, asking them to report and seek permission. Yet, almost every boatman shook his head like a rattle drum, all in unison; none would go in to report.

Common folk fear officials as mice fear cats.

Li Sanchuan grew increasingly anxious and was arguing with the boatmen when a person emerged from the rear cabin, dressed as a servant.

“Quiet, all of you,” the servant shouted. “My master asks—is anyone below boarding to take the imperial exam in the capital? If so, you may join the journey.”

“Yes... yes... I am,” Li Sanchuan responded quickly. Without further ado, he beckoned Fu Ernang, Mountain Chief, and the others to board.

Not finding another boat, Li Sanchuan feared the official might change his mind, so he hurried.

“Wait...” the servant began, but Li Sanchuan’s group of six or seven was already crossing the gangplank and placing their luggage in the fore cabin.

The servant was speechless, half laughing, half helpless.

Li Sanchuan was dressed as a scholar, and his master had permitted him alone to join the boat to Kaifeng. He hadn’t expected so many—men and women, young and old—was this a scholar heading for the exams, or moving house?

One woman in her thirties was likely the scholar’s mother, the servant thought, but there was also a young girl—could she be the scholar’s daughter?

How dashing in youth! The scholar seemed barely more than ten, and yet already had a daughter?

“Thank you, thank you, sorry for the trouble,” Li Sanchuan grinned, bowing repeatedly.

As the saying goes, one does not strike a smiling face. The servant had no choice but to let them enter.

It was a medium-sized passenger boat, with several cabins. Li Sanchuan and his party chose an empty cabin for the women and luggage, disturbing none of the boat’s owners.

As for the fare, since it was not mentioned, Li Sanchuan was happy to feign ignorance.

The passenger boat soon bustled with activity, especially Little Sprout, who was taking her first boat ride and clung to the rail, chattering endlessly.

“Brother, how long does it take to reach the capital?” After settling their luggage and Fu Ernang, Li Sanchuan stood on deck with Gao Er, Daoist Zhang, and Zeng Gongming, gazing at the elegant river scenery, feeling suddenly refreshed and at ease.

“I’m not so sure,” Gao Er shook his head. “But I reckon it’ll take more than a month.”

Gao Er had traveled to Lingnan with Su Shi mostly overland and was unfamiliar with river routes.

It was late October. If the journey took over a month, Li Sanchuan and his party would arrive in Kaifeng no earlier than December, and the spring examinations were usually held at the end of January or early February, so time was tight.

“Gao Er, what is the capital like compared to Guizhou?” Zeng Gongming, now familiar with Gao Er, addressed him as brother.

“Guizhou?” Gao Er raised his pinky, then thought better of it and curled it down. “Guizhou is about the size of my finger, but the capital... it’s bigger than ten of my palms.”

“That big?” Zeng Gongming exclaimed. “Is the capital lively?”

“Lively? Throw that ‘lively’ word into the river and let the fish eat it!” Gao Er laughed. “If the capital’s not lively, nowhere is. From dawn till dusk, the streets are a sea of people, shoulder to shoulder. Merchants and shopkeepers shout all day, taverns, tea houses, theaters, brothels—all open through the night.”

Zeng Gongming licked his lips, yearning. “Truly the imperial capital! No wonder officials refuse to leave.”

Li Sanchuan, Gao Er, and Daoist Zhang all laughed.

“Brother Donglin speaks truly,” Daoist Zhang chimed in. “I once met an official exiled to Shu who begged everywhere, weeping and calling to return to the capital.”

“Haha, surely he couldn’t bear to leave his beloved in the city,” Gao Er laughed.

Their voices rang out merrily, not noticing the man in his early forties standing behind them on the deck, whose brows were tightly furrowed, as if displeased by their conversation.

“Beloved? How do they compare to those in Lingnan?” Zeng Gongming asked.

“Enough! You’re too young to be daydreaming. Better review your studies and think about how you’ll handle the provincial exam,” Li Sanchuan scolded, laughing.

“Ah, Sanchuan, youth should be dashing!” Gao Er said slyly. “Let me tell you, Lingnan is nothing compared to the capital. The girls of Lingnan are no match for those in Kaifeng; every young lady in the capital is radiant and fresh, skin so tender that a pinch would yield water. Not only that, they’re talented in every art—poetry, music, essays, all mastered.”

Gao Er nearly drooled, his words glittering.

He was raised in the capital, familiar with every corner and pleasure house.

Kaifeng, beloved, I have returned, Gao Er thought as he watched the rushing river.

Zeng Gongming patted his purse knowingly.

In Lingnan, Zeng Gongming might be considered a country squire, but in Kaifeng, he would not draw much attention—he knew this well.

Li Sanchuan, too, felt curiosity and excitement; he was eager to see the famed capital of the Song dynasty.

He had seen big cities before, but what would Kaifeng be like, greater than all others? He had no idea.

“Pull, pull... pull... pull...”
“Don’t falter...”
“Pull, pull... pull... pull...”
“Push forward...”
“Pull, pull... pull... pull...”

Suddenly, the old boatman began calling out, his chant growing faster, and the boatmen gathered at the sides with their poles, matching the rhythm, tense and alert, eyes fixed on the river.

The waters grew ever more turbulent, the drop in the river several fathoms. The rushing river poured from the mountain gorge like a waterfall, pounding the banks with thunderous noise.

“We’ve reached Fish Mouth Shoal, boys, keep your wits about you!” the old boatman shouted.

This was Fish Mouth Shoal, the most perilous of the eighteen shoals along the Gan River, several dozen miles below Ganzhou city, at the section known as Water Gate Pond, also called Turtle Shoal. The river was littered with dangerous reefs—Fire Road, Fire Flat, East and West Crow, Upper and Lower Diao Stone, Congratulations Stone, Fire Rapids, Dragon Head Stone, Toad Stone, Good Stone, Hanging Board Stone, Iron Gate Threshold, Eel Cage, Cart Alley, and more than a dozen treacherous shoals.

Fish Mouth Shoal was the most dangerous. A careless moment could destroy the boat and feed everyone to the fish and turtles.

The swift current rocked the passenger boat wildly, knocking everyone off balance except those experienced in river navigation.

Gao Er, Zeng Gongming, Li Sanchuan and the others had no mind for jest now; they clung to anything within reach, faces pale, eyes fixed on the raging waters, hearts full of fear.

“Hold tight... master, hold tight...” Even Mountain Chief, usually courageous, showed a hint of fear, gripping Li Sanchuan tightly lest he be swept into the river.

“Help!” A wave struck, soaking Zeng Gongming, who lost his footing and landed hard on the deck, crying out, “Brother Hanren, help... help me!”

“Ha, Donglin, no need to panic!” Li Sanchuan was not overly fearful; living by the sea, he’d seen his share of stormy waters. He told Mountain Chief, “Mountain Chief, help Donglin, don’t worry about me.”

“Thousands of paths no man treads,
Guarded by golden fortresses.
Old tales say winds blow high,
Three rivers open for Yu’s feast,
City walls lie before chambers.
Each step vast as autumn’s hues.
At the pass, only gentlemen remain;
Who says life is but water and clouds?
When flying, west stream flows;
Trusting only the swift waters.”

Li Sanchuan gazed at the wild river, inspiration striking, and recited a Song lyric.

“Bravo!” the middle-aged man nearby called out. “What a line—‘When flying, west stream flows; trusting only the swift waters.’ A fine ‘Riverside Immortal’!”