Thousands of Boats Float Along the Narrow Jin River (V)
The pink butterfly turned into white moonlight tonight, just like the bright moonlight hanging in the sky, lingering behind Meng Shizhuang.
When Meng Shizhuang left, he left; when Meng Shizhuang stopped, he stopped too.
The footsteps of the person behind him were light, almost blending into the night breeze as they drifted through the streets. The river surged, yet gently lingered, its sounds drifting in from a distance. Meng Shizhuang wandered through the night, and the sounds of the water made him feel sleepy. He wanted to return to the ruined temple quickly, but he didn't want to bring any trouble with him. So, he grinned silently, suppressing his fatigue and adopting his usual half-dead, fierce expression.
With a prepared expression, he turned around and handed a dazzling pearl flower to his eyes.
Meng Shizhuang's rehearsed expression froze on his face. After a few words from "Bai Yueguang", he accepted the two pearl flowers without any refusal.
Daohai City was in ruins, with many impoverished families starving to death. Yet, Meng Shizhuang had also encountered many who "could afford to eat." Brothels and gambling houses prospered the fastest, and pawnshops were no less prosperous. When he and Lao Ju first came down from the mountains, they survived by pawning the carriages they had stolen from Fanli Village. He was unsophisticated, imitating others' bargaining techniques, arguing fiercely with the bosses with aplomb, yet he had no idea what the items were worth.
But this "white moonlight" is different.
He looked well-dressed, his attendants so dense they could block the docks, and he boasted of having a skilled doctor at home—how could he possibly afford an entire pharmacy? Meng Shizhuang's daily routine now consisted of eating and buying medicine; the pharmacy was a "gold-spending den" for him.
Although the Bodhisattva following "Bai Yueguang" is very stingy.
But never be stingy with your own people.
These two pearl flowers will definitely sell for a good price.
Meng Shizhuang breathed a sigh of relief. He could take Lao Ju away.
He asked her to pin two pearl flowers on his head, a pair that looked out of place on him. A surge of gratitude, unprecedented in his life, welled up in his chest, even though the recipient of this emotion still felt like a victim. Meng Shizhuang swallowed his impatience, asked where her home was, and then led the group toward where he remembered the largest ship docked.
"Bai Yueguang" looks gentle, beautiful and charming, but unexpectedly she is a chatterbox who likes to talk nonsense.
Since coming down the mountain, Meng Shizhuang hasn't spoken to many people, and the conversations he's been asking often have two different meanings: "Do you have food to eat?" or "Do you have enough money to eat?" In short, they're all about food. Unfortunately, those who keep talking about food aren't gluttons; most, like Meng Shizhuang, are just thin bamboo sticks.
"White Moonlight" walked beside him. Although he didn't feel ashamed of himself, he had a vague sense of the "honorable glory" of this humble place, and silently moved three more steps to the side. White Moonlight was completely unaware, and when she opened her mouth, she almost stopped Meng Shizhuang in his tracks with the word "world".
He'd never considered himself a part of Sujian Mountain, but even the disciples of Lao Hu's Zhongyi Hall, who felt a strong sense of belonging to the mountain, wouldn't constantly babble about "how things are up there." Meng Shizhuang pondered this for a moment, shifting the subject of this confusing phrase to Sujian Mountain, figuring only Luo Shun deserved to be concerned with such a significant matter.
After making a clear comparison, he looked back at Bai Yueguang with an indescribable look.
It turns out that outside this mountain, anyone who has enough to eat thinks that he or she is the master of the mountain?
In this case, it is indeed necessary to care about whether the minions in your own little piece of land are well fed.
But—Meng Shizhuang's eyes darted up and down. Bai Yueguang was half a head taller than him. She claimed to be skilled in horseback riding and archery, but in reality, she had no defenses at all. She couldn't even handle a small mouse, couldn't lift or carry anything. If there was one strength he could spot at first glance, it was probably her face.
Meng Shizhuang once again changed the situation to Sujian Mountain, thinking of the evil ghost who wanted to kill him, who also had an unparalleled beautiful face.
It seems that people value faces more than swords.
Meng Shizhuang, who thought he had understood the truth again, saw the bright lights by the river and didn't want to be humiliated by the condescending person anymore. After the other party reluctantly helped him fix Zhuhua, he took her hand and left.
The next day, Meng Shizhuang stopped visiting the docks. He took the two pearl flowers and went to the pawnshop. After a heated argument with the owner, he refilled his purse with silver. He had no interest in or attachment to anything in the city, no desire for extravagance or entertainment. After paying off his debt at the pharmacy, he headed straight to the river to pick up a boat.
The Xinglu River is really big.
Thousands of small boats are densely packed on the river bank. It is said that when the river flows north, it can occupy most of the city.
The rumors of buying life for wealth had recently dispelled. Meng Shizhuang had heard snippets of this from many people in the city, but since it had nothing to do with him at the moment, he didn't bother to inquire. He wasn't reckless, but he certainly lacked experience. The river stretched endlessly before him, and Meng Shizhuang felt a wave of fear, even unconsciously. He simply wanted to hurry, so he wouldn't be held back.
Meng Shizhuang put some money in his pocket and randomly picked an old man who was staring at the river in a daze with his head down.
Even after being called several times, the old man refused to look up and respond.
The small boat next to them was bustling with activity, with more than ten people crammed into a palm-sized space. Meng Shizhuang frowned and had to raise his voice.
The old man was so disturbed by him that he could no longer concentrate. He took off his hat and waved his hand: "I won't accept any more guests."
He stretched his body backwards and kicked his legs towards the river. "There's money being sold in the city ahead. My family of seven is too small to cross. To save our lives, we had to ask my son and daughter-in-law to take me and flee west. Now that the city is peaceful, my son will come back with the money to pick me up. I will no longer engage in this dangerous business."
There's something wrong with what he said.
Meng Shizhuang had long thought of the money for buying his life as "head money", and having enough to eat was a top priority for him. Seeing the turbulent water in the center of the river, he didn't ask a word, but sorted out the things that were wrong in his mind, nodded, and finally changed the boatman.
The old man followed the boat swaying on the water for a few times and suddenly called out to him: "Hey, young man, I don't want to do business anymore. Do you want to take this boat?"
Meng Shizhuang was stunned. Before he could think clearly, he heard a continuous "splash, splash" sound in his ears. He turned his head and saw that there were too many people on some small boats, and they were squeezed into the water.
He suddenly thought: "How much do you want to sell this boat?"
The old man counted.
Meng Shizhuang turned around and left. Before he could wait, the old man jumped off the boat and grabbed him, "Hey, hey! Let's talk it over!"
He dragged Meng Shizhuang to look at the old boat, winking as he spoke, "Buy this boat, and you can take as many people as you want."
Meng Shizhuang was puzzled: Why were these boatmen desperately trying to get people on board? And the people who wanted to get on board were also like that. Aren't they afraid of the ship sinking?
The old man continued earnestly, "Once tonight is over, it will be the 15th day of the seventh lunar month. There's no better time." He pointed to the river where people were rushing to board boats. "Look! If we miss tomorrow, it will be even harder to get into Hunzhou."
Meng Shizhuang's inner vigilance finally overwhelmed her hope, "Why do we have to wait until the 15th of July?"
The old man had a look that said, "This needs to be said openly." He wasn't being secretive. For many years, he'd lived on the river. Although his wife and children had witnessed Ping An's departure, they had no idea whether he was dead or alive. This numbness made people even more numb, and most of the people they met were also numb. He didn't ignore Meng Shizhuang's age, but he was struck by the weathered look on his face. He assumed this young man had been through a lot, and that their interactions were based on a tacit understanding.
"Of course, it's to make it easier to pay for my life."
Meng Shizhuang saw that the other boats were filled with at most a palmful of copper coins, and he weighed his own purse. He thought that this would be more than enough for him and Lao Ju. So he stopped hesitating and agreed to buy the boat.
After drinking the last dose of medicine in the dilapidated temple, Lao Ju broke the steamed bun that Meng Shizhuang had left for him into two halves and gave one to the lame mother-in-law and one to Xiao Qi.
Xiao Qi held the steamed bun in her hands with tears in her eyes, "Hero, are you and Xiao Xia leaving now?"
The lame old woman gnawed the steamed bun viciously without saying a word.
Lao Ju didn't say much, but patted the child's shoulder and said, "Take care."
After taking only two steps, he turned around to look. Xiao Qi was even thinner than Meng Shizhuang. Thinking of how the child had taken care of him during these days in the dilapidated temple when Meng Shizhuang was away, he couldn't help but nag: "Everything will be peaceful in the future. It's better to learn a skill than to cheat and deceive people."
The lame old woman stuffed her mouth with steamed buns and said in an uncivilized way, "It's easy to talk without any pain in your waist! You can learn a skill just by talking. Who would share their special skills with others?"
Lao Ju's words sounded light and indeed sounded like a sarcastic remark.
But for some reason, Xiao Qi didn't detect any hint of perfunctory preaching. After Lao Ju left the dilapidated temple with his two swords in hand, the lame old woman came towards him, her face flushed from choking on a steamed bun, and she tried to retort Lao Ju, "Don't listen to him! Look at the charred bones in the dilapidated temple. They were all full of morality when they were alive!"
Xiao Qi lowered his head and thought for a moment, then stuffed the half bun into the lame old woman's hand.
The lame old woman was shocked and grabbed him: "Are you really going to make it?"
Xiao Qi was sure: "I have thought it through! I don't want to be beaten, nor do I want to go hungry. Asking people to teach me some skills is the same as asking for money and rice. If I can't get anything, everyone will look down on me. I am not afraid of being looked down upon so often." He patted his face, ran into the corner of the temple where he usually slept, took out a small, dirty cloth bag and hung it on his body.
The lame old woman sneered: "Yes! You have come to terms with it."
"However, since he advised you, I also want to advise you that it's not difficult for you to change from a beggar to a respectable person, but if you can't make a living in the future, it will be difficult to change from a respectable person to a beggar!"
She pushed Xiaoqi away in anger, staggered away, and said, "Take care of yourself."
Xiao Qi was not hurt by her and decided to leave here, begging while looking for opportunities.
Lao Ju walked to the riverside with a knife, looking at the small boats one by one, looking for Meng Shizhuang.
Meng Shizhuang had just finished bargaining with the old man, handing over the money and the boat, when she turned around and saw Lao Ju and waved from a distance. Lao Ju raised his knife to indicate that he saw her, and slowly moved over.
It was nearly dusk, and the sky was burning brighter than ever.
Meng Shizhuang settled the old house and sat cross-legged at the bow of the boat with the oar at hand.
The old man did not lie to him, this was indeed a very important moment.
The boats and canoes, large and small, that had been anchored on the Xinglu River for days, began to move one after another, like a succession of boats heading towards an unknown and dangerous path. Meng Shizhuang wrapped the oar on his right hand around his wrist and slowly rowed, struggling to catch up with the "group." Lao Ju's low, gentle cough echoed from behind him. Meng Shizhuang didn't look back.
There are too many small boats on the river.
The whispers, cries, fears, and dread of others loomed too close to him. He gritted his teeth, not only to gather strength for rowing, but also to avoid being distracted by these people. Meng Shizhuang had no idea he was about to face a long, though not too short, separation from Lao Ju, nor did he truly understand the meaning of "buying a life's fortune." He stood at a crossroads in his destiny, yet he could not foresee the earth-shattering future that would unfold.
The occasional low cough from Lao Ju actually soothed his emotions.
The blazing sky gradually faded, the last remnants of summer's heat fading. Meng Shizhuang was drenched in sweat, yet the wind still gave him goosebumps. As the sky darkened, he lost sight of the "green mountains on both sides facing each other," only the river seemed even more vast. He panted, slowing his oars and surveying his surroundings, he realized the number of boats traveling with him was dwindling.
He turned around and looked through the shadow of the old house at the road ahead. Sure enough, many boats were either returning the same way or stagnating.
Meng Shizhuang was startled: Are these people afraid of paying bribes?
Lao Ju noticed his uneasiness, stepped forward and grasped his shaky shoulders, and simply asked him, "Ah, should we go back?"
Meng Shizhuang raised her eyes blankly, her thoughts racing.
If he was afraid of the dangers ahead, he could certainly go back. Back in Daohai City, back to that dock, he could still provide food for himself and Lao Ju, but was that all? He knew very well that he had come down the mountain not just to survive.
Luo Shun never thought of killing him. How could it not be more satisfying to see the descendants of his former enemy lingering under his hands than to kill him?
Since he had broken free from that cage, why did he put shackles on himself and work himself to death on another "Sujian Mountain"?
Meng Shizhuang's distracted eyes became firm. He shrugged his shoulders and said in a relaxed tone, "We're not going back."
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