Chapter 41: This Love, Reserved for Reminiscence

When hope takes root in one’s heart, time seems to pass quickly. In the blink of an eye, Lu Jin found himself drawing near to the torch-bearing figures. He could vaguely make out several large ships, with armored warriors standing at their prows.

Damn! These river bandits are bold—do they really intend to confront the authorities head-on?

A jolt of fear shot through Lu Jin. This was precisely what he dreaded. He was just a scholar from Jiangzhou, utterly powerless in such a situation. In the chaos of battle, his chances of survival were slim at best.

“Stop the boat!” The two sides soon met on the river. The warriors on the opposing ships shouted orders toward them.

Lu Jin had just begun to straighten up for a better look when he felt the cold edge of a blade against his neck. He had no choice but to crouch down obediently, while the others hugged their heads, not daring to peer outside.

Though crouched low, Lu Jin’s heart brimmed with hope, desperately searching for a sliver of survival amidst the looming melee.

“Inspection by the Jiangzhou General’s Patrol—stop for inspection!” The call from across the water rang out again, clearer this time, indicating the two sides had closed the distance.

“Officer, we’re the Pu family’s grain transport from Songzhou,” someone from their side replied, sounding like the bandit who had been coordinating from the ship.

“Hurry and stop, or else…” Clearly, the warrior had no intention of listening to their fabrications.

Lu Jin sneered inwardly. A grain transport? Did they take the authorities for fools? With their ramshackle attire, they might as well have “river bandit” tattooed on their foreheads. And where was the grain?

“You’re with the Pu fleet?” As the warrior shouted, another voice seemed to emerge from the opposing ship, prompting the warrior to fall silent.

“Officer, yes, we’re with the Pu fleet… It’s well past midnight—may I ask what’s happened?”

“River bandits infiltrated Jianglin and have taken some wealthy hostages… Did you see any sign of bandits upstream?” The voice from across the river sounded offhand.

Lu Jin nearly choked in exasperation. Was this man blind? The bandits were right in front of him—how could he not see?

Lu Jin wanted to shout out, but feeling the blade at his throat, he was certain that whatever happened to the others, he would be the first to die if he made a sound. The injustice of it gnawed at him.

“Officer, we’ve been hurrying along our journey and didn’t pay much attention. Perhaps you should check upstream? Here, take this silver and have some hot tea…” As the man finished speaking, there was the sound of something being handed over.

What on earth was going on? Lu Jin was utterly bewildered. If this were some subtle ruse, he might understand, but the bandits were so blatantly obvious—why hadn’t the authorities acted?

“Let them pass…” came the order from across the water.

“But, Captain, we haven’t inspected their ship…” someone objected nearby.

“What’s there to inspect on the Pu family’s grain boats? Hurry, let’s check upstream—if the bandits get away, we’ll both answer for it!” The captain’s voice was curt.

With that, he urged his men to row on. The bandit ships began moving as well.

Lu Jin slumped onto the boat’s deck, his heart sinking into icy despair.

If he hadn’t realized the truth by now, he’d be a fool. The bandits were clearly in league with the Jiangzhou military. No wonder they were so brazen, charging straight through.

All hope was lost; there was nothing more to consider.

Utterly despondent, Lu Jin leaned back against a nearby chest. He didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually, under the faint light of dawn, he drifted into a heavy sleep.

……

By the time Lu Jin awoke, it was already daytime. He had no idea how long he’d slept. Several boats lay anchored in a small patch of water, surrounded by tall grass.

“You certainly slept soundly…” a bandit remarked nearby.

Lu Jin turned and was startled by the sudden appearance of a dark, unmasked face. Why had he removed his disguise? Were they about to reveal themselves?

“Brother, where exactly are we?” Lu Jin asked cautiously.

“Just get some more sleep. It’s still early…” came the terse reply.

“But I’m so hungry I can’t sleep…” Lu Jin protested.

“Then why don’t you eat something before you lie down again?”

“Is that allowed?” Lu Jin asked, embarrassed.

“What do you think?” the bandit replied with a wry sense of humor, though he hardly seemed sincere.

Lu Jin’s stomach was pressed against his back with hunger—how was he to play the role of a hostage like this? And what about Xiaobai, who seemed utterly dejected?

“Xiaobai, how are you holding up?” Lu Jin probed.

“I’m alright, sir,” Xiaobai replied, lifting his head.

Lu Jin was both hungry and exhausted, yet he had slept soundly throughout the ordeal, much to the amazement of even the bandits.

“Brother, aren’t we going ashore?” Lu Jin asked curiously. Drifting endlessly on the water hardly seemed practical.

“There will be a time for you to go ashore…” the bandit replied with a cold sneer.

After a long wait, the boats finally set off again. Lu Jin wondered if they were hiding from someone—perhaps the authorities?

By late afternoon, when their hunger had nearly reduced them to corpses, Lu Jin and his companions were finally led ashore by the bandits.

Along the way, Lu Jin had discerned that they must be on a large lake, navigating wherever the reeds grew densest. He had no idea where this lake was, or what it was called.

On the shore stood a few crude huts, hastily cobbled together from wood, with the boats moored tightly alongside. The place looked like nothing more than a shabby water-side stronghold. Soon, Lu Jin and the others were locked into one of the huts.

“Brother, can’t we have a chat? I could really make a good bandit, you know…”

These people must be mad—not a word, and they locked him up again. At the very least, they could have spared a scrap of food.

“Sir, how are you so brave?” Xiaobai asked.

“Because that’s all I have left!” Lu Jin replied.

-----------------

Shen Residence, Brook Garden.

Warm sunlight once again bathed the grand Shen estate in Jianglin.

After a night of frantic activity, the search parties had all returned, but there was still no tangible progress.

Persuaded by those around her, Shen Yanxi managed to sleep for a short while; if she stayed awake, the others would have had to as well.

But how could she truly rest? Every time she closed her eyes, memories of the past days would replay endlessly, disturbing her fitful rest with nightmares.

She dreamt of Lu Jin, his face unrecognizable after being hacked by river bandits and his body tossed into the Lan River. Then she saw him tortured by the bandits, bound and suffering cruel punishments… The entire night, Shen Yanxi drifted in and out of restless sleep, haunted by such visions.

Her wet nurse, Yuan Hui, and the maid, who had rushed from home, did not dare leave her side, keeping vigil at her bedside. Whenever Shen Yanxi awoke in terror, their hearts ached for their young mistress. That rascal of theirs had caused a great disaster this time—how could even a frail scholar have been left unguarded?

Another nursemaid, Xia Zhinuan, having received the news, also hurried over to comfort Shen Yanxi.

Xia Zhinuan, at thirty-seven or thirty-eight, bore a name that hinted at her once-prosperous origins. Life, however, is unpredictable. When her family fell on hard times, she became a phoenix with lost feathers and married into an ordinary household. At her lowest, she took a post as Shen Yanxi’s nursemaid to make ends meet.

Yet, both Yuan Hui and Xia Zhinuan had the refinement to be considered for such a position, ensuring them a measure of security for life. Yuan Hui, for instance, had managed to raise her son alone and lived comfortably enough.

By comparison, Xia Zhinuan’s circumstances had improved even more. Her simple yet elegant attire spoke of taste, her face bore little sign of hardship, and beneath her light makeup, an air of natural grace shone through.

Her husband’s family had once been of modest means, but thanks to her husband’s cleverness and their reliance on the Shen family, their fortunes had gradually improved. Now, prosperity was written all over her.

“Miss, I truly am at fault. So much has happened to you in just a month, and I knew nothing of it—how shameful…” Xia Zhinuan grasped Shen Yanxi’s hand, her words laden with apology and her eyes glistening with tears.

“Aunt Xia, this isn’t your fault. Everything happened so suddenly that there was no time to inform you,” Shen Yanxi replied gently.

“Miss, don’t worry too much. Those river bandits wouldn’t take hostages without reason. Whether for money or otherwise, they’re bound to return your fiancé safe and sound…”

Shen Yanxi nodded in agreement, but inside she sat motionless on her couch, her mind filled with the anxious image of Lu Jin.

She had no other option now but to wait. Yet, the longer the wait, the more her hope faded. She even wished the bandits would send their ransom note soon, for at least then she would have something to hold on to.

She wanted to go out and search for him herself. Even knowing it would be futile, the act would bring her some peace—waiting idly was unbearable. Yet, she could not leave the Shen estate.

“Siqin, come with me to Crescent Pavilion,” Shen Yanxi said, rising from her couch.

“Miss…” Xia Zhinuan hurried to stop her.

“Miss, the young master isn’t there…” Siqin said sorrowfully.

“I know. I just want to be closer to him.”

There was no discernible emotion in Shen Yanxi’s voice; she spoke so softly it was as if she spoke only to herself.

Siqin and Huayan dared not object further and quickly summoned servants to attend Shen Yanxi to her fiancé’s quarters.

As they watched her depart, Xia Zhinuan and Yuan Hui could only sigh. With the young master gone, wouldn’t being there just make their mistress even sadder?