Chapter 70: The One-Eyed Man

And so, our river barge sailed through the mountains, arriving at the border of another city along the river—Qiling City. Qiling City was situated between Springwater City and Ferry City. Our arrival here meant we had already traversed half the journey. As we neared Qiling, the storm had abated, and the strange fish in the Yellow River grew fewer and fewer, until, upon entering the city district, the river was calm, as if nothing had ever happened.

I glanced at the time—it was already past two thirty in the night. We had traveled nearly half the route; in another two or three hours, we would reach Ferry City.

Then we encountered a problem: many of the sailors, shaken by what had just happened, insisted on leaving the ship, vowing never to sail this route again.

Truth be told, I had thoughts of abandoning ship myself. If not for the fifty thousand betrothal money hanging over my head, I would have jumped into the Yellow River the moment the strange fish disappeared.

I didn’t stop those who wanted to leave; after all, most of the affairs on board were handled by Lu Jiu and Steward Lin.

While the ship was docked for repairs, over thirty people left, refusing to continue. Those who remained weren’t unafraid; like me, they were facing hard times and had little choice but to soldier on. Among them was Captain Li Dafa.

Steward Lin wasn’t fazed by the exodus. After consulting with the boss by phone, he began recruiting replacements right there at the dock. At such a late hour, most of those waiting for work at the dock were genuinely desperate—families in hardship or people facing urgent financial trouble.

Steward Lin offered eight thousand for a single trip, and the dock workers eagerly boarded the ship. Their leader was a wiry, gaunt man, blind in one eye, the other gleaming as he circled us.

Thirty new crew members came aboard, all thin and malnourished.

Seeing how pitiful they were, I told them what had happened on the ship, warning them to think twice before boarding, lest they lose their lives for nothing.

Yet the one-eyed man refused to heed my warning, jabbing his finger at my nose and cursing, “Damn it, if it’s really as dangerous as you say, why aren’t you getting off?”

The men he brought with him joined in, hurling insults at me, leaving me speechless.

As I was about to reply, Li Dafa pulled me aside into a quiet corner, handed me a cigarette, and said, “Master Pi, don’t take it to heart. These are street toughs who value money more than their own lives.” He lit his cigarette and used his lighter to help me light mine.

I took a drag from Li Dafa’s cigarette, coughing from the harshness. Looking down, I realized it was one of those old brands—two yuan a pack, Great Gate.

Seeing my reaction, Li Dafa gave a dry chuckle and said, “If you’re not used to it, Master, just toss it into the river.”

I quickly shook my head. “No, no, I’m fine.” Then I took another puff and looked at Li Dafa. Despite his crooked teeth, he was an honest man. I asked, “Master Li, aren’t you afraid? I advise you to get off while you can. The journey ahead won’t be peaceful.”

I wasn’t lying. Beyond Qiling, the route was flanked entirely by mountains, without even a place to rest. It was said that these mountains were once the site of fierce battles between Liu Xiu’s army and Zhang Bu, and that even now, some geomancers claimed you could still see the spirits of fallen soldiers wandering the slopes.

Li Dafa flicked his cigarette ash and said, “Of course I’m afraid, Master. It’s no joke—I must have done something terrible in my past life. I have two kids, both disabled. My wife couldn’t take it and left me for someone else. To treat my children, I’ve racked up tens of thousands in debt, and the creditors are after me every day.”

I said nothing. Compared to Li Dafa, my own situation was blessed.

“Oh, by the way, Master Li, do we have any heavy iron chains on board? I remember hearing the sound of chains clanging when I was on the ship,” I asked.