WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle

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◈ Raised by a Ruthless Swordsman ◈

Chapter 28: Deal

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Even after Guju disappeared from sight, I could not take my eyes off the side of the boat for a while.

As the sun rose, the mist lying over the water loosened as though melting beneath its rays. Through the gaps it left behind, the riverbanks gradually came into view.

Long stretches of pale sandbars and dry reed beds lined the water. Beyond them lay harvested rice paddies, nothing but stubble remaining, while fresh green shoots sprouted from the plowed fields in between.

What could they be planting in this cold?

A narrow path ran close along the riverbank. Every so often, villages of thatched and tiled houses passed beyond the embankment, morning smoke rising straight from every chimney.

The wind was biting, but the side of the boat was bearable once the sunlight reached it.

So a river always ran in one direction like this. The sea had seemed to push and pull a boat both ways, but that had been so long ago that I could barely remember.

At the stern, besides us, two others sat clutching bundles in their plain cotton robes.

They went on endlessly among themselves about Longyou, Lanxi, and whether the price of paper had risen or fallen. They appeared to be merchants who traveled the waterways.

After we had drifted along for some time, the old boatman at the rudder shouted.

When I looked up, the water ahead was breaking into tiny white ripples. The riverbed was shallow, or covered in rocks. The channels between coastal rocks had exposed their hidden depths on the surface in much the same way.

The crewmen immediately seized their poles and lined the sides of the boat. Whenever the boatman called out, the poles struck the riverbed, and the bow turned accordingly. Even with the boat laden with cargo, they threaded it through that narrow channel as neatly as a needle through cloth. They had earned their keep, all right.

Still, they could not fool the riverbed completely. A scraping sound rose from beneath the hull as gravel dragged against it, scrrrape.

The stacks of sacks shook, but that was all. The boatmen soon withdrew their poles and returned to their places, while the two merchants never once stopped talking.

We passed through places like that a couple more times. The boatman shouted, the poles pressed against the riverbed, and the boat twisted this way and that. By the second time, I could tell in advance just by looking at the water.

Then an unusual sight caught my eye on the opposite bank.

People stood in a line, walking bent at the waist as though crawling. As I watched to see what they were doing, I saw thick ropes slung over their shoulders, their ends tied to a boat on the river.

They were towing it.

While we sat still and glided downstream, they were hauling that boat upstream against that same current with their shoulders. If a set of clothes was the price of going downstream, how much did it cost to go upstream?

I followed that procession with my eyes until it vanished from sight.

* * *

Before long, the sun had climbed fairly high. As hunger set in, I leaned against a stack of sacks and took out a flatbread. It was cold and hard, but chewing it in the sunlight at the side of the boat made it passable.

Du Gi beside me took out his own and bit into it.

"How many days to Hangzhou?"

"Two."

Du Gi's answer was so short that I turned toward him.

Now that I thought about it, he had kept his mouth shut since we boarded the boat. He had said nothing when we passed the rapids, nor while the merchants chattered away. Something about his profile as he chewed his flatbread looked stiff.

"Is something troubling you?"

Du Gi swallowed his bite and looked downriver for a moment.

"Those people pulling that cart earlier."

Those people. Du Gi continued.

"Boats on this waterway all pull in at ferries for the night after dark. There are only a few ferries where boats can dock, so boats headed the same way naturally gather at the same places every night."

Du Gi tossed the rest of his flatbread into his mouth and chewed.

"If they truly are that protection convoy, we will spend the night at the same ferry at least once before we reach Hangzhou."

It might even be tonight, Du Gi muttered.

As I listened, my own thoughts began to multiply.

What would I do if we really ran into them again?

Strictly speaking, I had nothing to be ashamed of. I had done my job as a hired hand.

When the night raid came, I had not run. I drew my sword, fought, then fell into the river and was swept away. If anything, they still owed me the remaining three taels of my pay.

Even so, I did not want to get tangled up with them again.

I could not point to a specific reason. But ever since I had sensed something suspicious about what was loaded on that cart, I had felt deeply uneasy about being involved with them. Munhwi, no, Nangong Hwi as well.

When I looked beside me, Du Gi was already staring back at the river. The furrow between his brows made him seem lost in thought.

Instead of speaking further, I turned my eyes to the river as well and emptied the remaining half of my flatbread into my mouth. It had cooled in the river wind and was even harder than before, making it far less appetizing.

The sound of water filled the silence between us.

Unaware of our concerns, the boat diligently rode the current downstream.

* * *

From the time the sun began to lean westward, the two merchants grew noticeably restless.

They passed words back and forth about how Lanxi was just ahead, and how they would have hot soup and rice wine that night.

Sure enough, not long afterward, the river widened visibly.

Another current flowed in from the right and merged completely with ours. Perhaps because it was where two rivers met, the water became broad and slow.

A city lay beyond the confluence. This must have been Lanxi.

Lamps were already appearing one by one among the riverside homes. Its walls and houses looked less imposing than Guju's, but there seemed to be even more boats lined up at its docks.

The boatmen busied themselves, and the boat slowly turned toward one side of the ferry.

The poles struck the riverbed several times, and a rope thrown by someone caught around a post. Once the boat came to a stop with its side rubbing against the bank, the two merchants slung their bundles over their shoulders and crossed the plank as if they had been waiting for it.

We did not hurry. Du Gi went to the bow, exchanged a few words with the boatman, and returned. The boat would leave again at the same hour tomorrow morning, and since a crewman would remain behind to guard the cargo, we were welcome to sleep aboard that night.

Only then did we follow the others down the plank.

As I disembarked, I swept my gaze once over the upstream river. A couple of sails were coming down through the twilight, but they were too far away to make out, and nothing stood out in particular.

Lanxi's ferry district was both like and unlike Guju's. The streets were narrower, but the lamps more densely packed. Sailors filled every open doorway, making a lively clamor. The scent of the hot soup the merchants had sung about drifted from somewhere nearby.

As though enchanted, we followed the smell inside.

Steam billowed from a wood-fired cauldron by the entrance. The proprietor loosened noodles in boiling water, lifted them out with a long bamboo strainer, then poured hot, soy-colored broth over them.

Finally, a handful of chopped scallions and a spoonful of oil went on top before the bowls were placed before us.

Round beads of oil floated over the clear broth. The plain noodles had no substantial toppings, but that ceased to matter when I slurped down a mouthful.

The hot broth ran down my throat, and the chill in my stomach from enduring the river wind all day finally eased.

We both lifted our bowls and drained even the broth.

On the way out, Du Gi stopped before a general store. Bamboo hats were strung together by cords and hung beneath the eaves.

Without saying a word, he picked out two and paid for them, then tossed one to me. When I caught it, I saw that its brim was fairly broad. If I pulled it down, it would hide everything above my eyebrows.

I understood his meaning without asking. I put it on without a word.

We were returning to the boat when it happened.

A boat was slowly turning into the entrance of the ferry. My casual glance fixed upon it.

In the middle of its deck was the outline of a covered cart.

The boat slowly made its way upstream along the ferry landing, then put in three or four piers away from ours. A rope caught around a post, and a plank was lowered.

Even in the twilight, I could see it. Only two people disembarked, while everyone else remained aboard. No one touched the cart. It stayed where it was on the deck, with two people seated beside it.

I pressed down the brim of my bamboo hat and kept walking at the same pace. We passed before that pier like ordinary travelers and returned to our boat.

A crewman guarding the cargo remained at the stern, cooking supper over a brazier in a little shelter of straw mats. When we came up the plank, he gave us a glance before turning back to his pot.

Our sleeping place was by the cargo hold. A round roof of straw mats had been laid over bent poles above the piles of sacks. If we squeezed ourselves in among the cargo beneath it, it would at least keep off the dew.

Du Gi crawled in first. I followed and leaned my back against a sack.

Through a gap in the straw mats, I could see that boat three or four piers away. The outlines of the two people seated beside the cart shifted from time to time.

They were too far away for me to see who they were clearly.

Who were those two? Gwak Seok or Jin Song? Or perhaps someone whose face I recognized?

It was absurd. Only a few days ago, we had shared the same cooking pot and warmed ourselves at the same fire. Now I was hiding behind a gap in a straw mat, counting their silhouettes.

Then Du Gi spoke in a voice low enough to be drowned out by the sound of the water.

"Listen."

Keeping my gaze on the gap, I turned my head slightly. Du Gi was still looking toward that boat.

"I have a favor to ask."

A favor at a time like this. I had a very bad feeling about it.

"Let's hear it."

Du Gi paused for a breath. Then, as casually as if he were speaking of nothing important, he continued in a low voice.

"That cart needs to be checked."

For a moment, I was speechless. I quietly studied the side of his face, lit by the light seeping through the gap in the straw mat.

"...Are you in your right mind?"

Only then did Du Gi turn to face me.

"I am. I think we need to confirm it."

I examined his face for a moment. It was as expressionless as ever.

When I thought about it, I could not say the cart heading toward Yeongpa did not weigh on my mind. Better to know what was being set in motion just before my hometown than to walk into it blind.

Had I not already learned with my own body what happened when you knew nothing?

But my dantian was far too empty to take on trouble right now. It had only just climbed a little above two-tenths full.

If I got involved with them while I was not at full strength, I might be thrown back into the river before learning anything.

"Do as you please. That is your business."

I took my eyes off Du Gi and looked through the gap in the straw mat again.

"But if you mean to involve me in it, I will refuse."

Du Gi did not answer immediately. For some time, only the sound of waves striking that boat carried across to us.

"I am not asking for your help for nothing."

I pretended not to hear, looking through the gap. At that moment, one of the people beside the cart stood, turned toward the river, and seemed to loosen their waistband. Perhaps they were relieving themself.

Du Gi continued without concern.

"You said you would look for your family in Yeongpa. After ten years apart, there is no guarantee they are still living in that village. If they left, finding out where they went would not be easy after all this time."

It was not as though I had never considered it. There was simply nothing I could do about it right now, so I had pushed it into a corner of my heart.

Why bring it up at this particular moment? His aim was obvious. Yet even knowing it was obvious, I could not help listening.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Haomun."

Haomun. That respectable inn from yesterday came to mind. For the right price, Haomun could provide news, routes, or people.

"Finding separated family is one of the most common requests in their line of work. Ask where a family from some town went, and through the reports of boatmen, brokers, and inn servants, there is no one they cannot find. You could have an answer within days."

Within days.

When I heard about Haomun yesterday, I had vaguely had the same thought. If I arrived in my hometown and could not find my family, I would have somewhere to turn.

But why was he bringing it up now? If I could simply go myself, it could not be his bargaining chip.

That meant there was something I could not do on my own. Some procedure, perhaps, or connections.

This had become troublesome.

"Are you saying just anyone cannot use them?"

"As expected, you are quick-witted."

Du Gi gave a small, breathy laugh. He then explained further what sort of place Haomun was.

Even knowing which house served as the contact point, which table to sit at, and what words to use to open the conversation was part of their gate. Without someone to vouch for you, you could not even cross its threshold. Since they made their living from information, their security was thorough as well.

After explaining that much, Du Gi finally named his price.

"If I make the introduction, it will be different. An urgent request filed under an Alliance member's name will be charged its proper price and handled quickly. Before you reach Yeongpa, you will have an answer on where your family is living and how they are doing."

I considered Du Gi's words.

My family's whereabouts mattered more than anything. If they were still in the village as they had been when I left, nothing could be better. But ten years was not such a small span of time.

Even as a child, I had heard that in years of famine, whole villages sometimes left in search of a way to live. Not long ago, I had personally seen Jang Sam's village swept up by bandits.

Their livelihood was tied to the sea, so surely they would not have been shaken by such things. Even so, the words what if kept tugging at my heart.

I knew Du Gi's bait was obvious, but I could not stop my heart from weighing heavily toward it.

"...Even so, if you intend to clash with them, I refuse."

"I am not that much of a fool."

Du Gi answered as if the idea were ridiculous. At his words, I looked once more toward that boat beyond the gap in the straw mat.

The two silhouettes beside the cart remained in the same place as before.

My deliberation was over.

"Fine. Tell me what you plan to do."

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