Chapter Fifty-Four: The Abduction at the Wedding

“Jurchens? Heishui Mohe?” Qin Guan asked in astonishment.

When Li Sanjian was reading aloud, his face showed a strange expression, which Qin Guan noticed. Qin Guan then asked Li Sanjian the reason for his reaction. At first, Li Sanjian was reluctant to answer, but under Qin Guan’s persistent questioning, he finally revealed the reason.

“That’s right,” Li Sanjian replied gravely. “The Jurchens will rise between the White Mountains and the Black Waters. Each and every one of them is valiant and skilled in battle, able to fight ten men, even a hundred. Many years from now, the Khitan will fall at the hands of the Jurchens, and our Great Song will suffer greatly because of them.”

Li Sanjian’s words were nothing short of thunderclaps, leaving Qin Guan and Yao Yu speechless, their eyes fixed on Li Sanjian in disbelief.

But the two simply could not believe it, not for a moment. At this time, the Jurchens were but a handful of tribes within Khitan territory, few in number, desperately poor, and extremely weak, all under the rule of the Khitan.

Not only were they weak, but hardly anyone even knew the name “Jurchen.” Only because Qin Guan was well-read did he know the Jurchens were the Heishui Mohe, and thus understood Li Sanjian’s reference.

How could anyone believe such a claim? That the mighty Liao would fall to the Jurchens? That was even more unbelievable. Qin Guan and the others knew well the strength of the Khitan—how could they possibly fall to a mere handful of Jurchens?

It was utter fantasy, or else Li Sanjian was mad. Both men thought as much. They’d heard Li Sanjian had once been dull-witted, but never that he’d been insane.

“How do you know this?” Qin Guan asked slowly, his shock barely fading.

“Well…” Li Sanjian faltered, at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to answer.

Li Sanjian didn’t even know what reign of Song he was in; he had no idea how far off the day he spoke of might be. If it were still a hundred or eighty years away, wouldn’t that make him a liar?

“Believe it or don’t—it’s all the truth,” Li Sanjian threw out these words and turned to “run away.”

I haven’t even said that the Song will also fall to the Jurchens, Li Sanjian thought to himself. If I said that, would they send me in chains to the capital for immediate execution?

“Master…” After Li Sanjian fled, Qin Guan and Yao Yu looked at each other, at a complete loss.

…

“Come to the ends of the earth, where spring is ever present in all four seasons.” Entering the borders of Danzhou, Li Sanjian was in high spirits, sitting on the hired donkey cart, humming a tune, looking entirely at ease.

The world believed Qiongtai was a wild and barren land, tough for survival, a place no one could endure. But Li Sanjian didn’t think so—he’d grown up here.

The clear sky was dotted with drifting white clouds; beneath them stood groves of banyan and coconut palms. Warm, fresh breezes washed over him, leaving Li Sanjian feeling utterly content.

“Young master, are you from these parts?” the donkey cart driver asked with a smile.

“I am,” Li Sanjian nodded. “Are you local too, elder?”

“Heh,” the old man laughed, flicking his whip. “I’m a Li man, born and bred right here.”

Li Sanjian brightened at this. “My mother is Li as well.”

“Oh? Is that so?” the old man asked. “And your father…?”

“My father is Han,” Li Sanjian answered honestly.

“I see. Are you returning home after the exams, young master?” the old man asked further.

“How did you know?” Li Sanjian asked in surprise.

“I’ve lived a good long while. I know how to spot a thing or two,” the old man replied with a smile.

Qiongtai was a desolate place, with very few scholars, and even fewer with Li blood. So the old man regarded Li Sanjian with rare interest.

“You’re quite right…” Li Sanjian began, but before he could finish, three or four dozen men surged out from the coconut groves on either side of the road. They were bare-chested, their faces and bodies painted with colorful oils, some wielding bizarre weapons. They charged at Li Sanjian, howling.

At first glance, Li Sanjian thought they’d encountered bandits.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s talk this over!” the old cart driver was so panicked he could barely move, babbling quickly.

Li Sanjian was just as frightened. He’d never run into bandits before, and even if there were any, why would they rob someone as poor as him?

“Old man, get lost! This has nothing to do with you,” one burly fellow shouted, thumping the cart with his thick staff.

The old man, terrified, leapt from the cart and scurried aside, leaving Li Sanjian to face the group alone. It was clear they were after him.

Li Sanjian realized as much, but suddenly the leader seemed vaguely familiar—as if he’d seen him somewhere before.

“You… you… what do you want? Who are you?” Li Sanjian stammered.

“Take him!” the leader grinned, flashing white teeth that stood out against his dark face.

At his command, the men swarmed over, grabbing his arms, seizing his legs, lifting him around the waist, joking and laughing as they hoisted Li Sanjian into the air.

The bandits seemed overjoyed, as if they’d found a great treasure. Yet they didn’t harm Li Sanjian—only a multitude of hands lifted him high.

“Gentlemen use words, not fists!” Li Sanjian cried, pale-faced and flailing, struggling with all his might.

But none paid him any mind, howling as they rushed into the coconut groves, like a tribe of savages who’d just caught wild prey, ready for a feast.

“Let me go! Let me go!” Li Sanjian called out, but heaven didn’t answer, nor did the earth.

…

“Hah… hahahaha!” Within the Wang clan’s stronghold, Wang Wen’s father, the chief of Maodao Village, Wang Ruikun, was positively gleeful as he gazed at the disheveled Li Sanjian.

“Father, we’ve brought him back, what do you want to do with him?” Wang Ruikun’s son, Wang Wen’s elder brother Wang Jian, asked with a grin.

“Untie him. Someone, bring a seat,” Wang Ruikun waved, not answering his son directly.

One of the clan’s men brought over a chair for Li Sanjian.

Li Sanjian stretched his limbs, reluctantly sat down, and looked up at Wang Ruikun, who resembled a wild beast, wary and uncertain what they intended for him.

“Bring a pot of Baisha green tea, and some pastries too,” Wang Ruikun ordered.

He then circled Li Sanjian three times, staring at him with gleaming eyes, saying nothing.

“What do you want?” Li Sanjian shrank back, asking nervously.

Were they planning to eat him? Li Sanjian wondered in fear. Previously, Wang Ruikun had only wanted him as his accountant, and he’d refused. Was that small slight enough for them to resort to violence?

But if they meant to kill him, why the tea and pastries? Were they fattening him up, like a pig, before slaughter?

“Tsk, tsk…” Wang Ruikun shook his head, replying obliquely, “It’s a pity you’re so skinny… but you’ll do.”

“Boy, I hear you passed the regional exams?” Wang Ruikun asked.

“So what if I did? What’s it to you?” Li Sanjian retorted resentfully.

Wang Ruikun wasn’t angered. He raised a thick thumb in praise. “Not bad, not bad at all. Our Li people are about to have a champion.”

“Father, he’s still far from being a champion—there’s still the provincial and palace exams,” Wang Jian interjected.

Wang Ruikun glared at him. “What do you know? Get lost!”

Among the Li, not to mention the palace or provincial exams, no one had even passed the regional exams before. In Wang Ruikun’s eyes, Li Sanjian was already a champion scholar.

Li Sanjian shook his head, unwilling to argue with such a coarse man. He just wanted to know why he’d been brought here.

At least it didn’t seem he was in any danger, and Li Sanjian felt a little more at ease.

“Are you willing or not?” Wang Ruikun crossed his arms, fixing Li Sanjian with his gaze.

“Willing? Willing to what? You mean about being your accountant?” Li Sanjian asked in utter bewilderment.

Wang Ruikun shook his large head. “Boy, you’re now the top scholar of Guangnan West Circuit. I couldn’t hope to hire such a grand figure. Are you willing or not?”

“Willing to what exactly?” Li Sanjian was at a loss. After all this, they still hadn’t gotten to the point.

At that moment, Wang Jian popped out from the side, nudged Li Sanjian with his elbow, and grinned. “Father wants a son-in-law, you know. Come, brother-in-law, have some tea to calm your nerves.”

“Son… son-in-law?” Li Sanjian was utterly flabbergasted.

As far as he knew, Wang Ruikun had only one precious daughter, still very young, and now he wanted a son-in-law? And it seemed he’d picked him… but how could that be?

First, Li Sanjian was no “lolicon,” and he himself was not yet sixteen. Second, according to Song law, inter-ethnic marriage was forbidden except by concubinage, not as a proper wife. Third, marriages were arranged by parents and matchmakers—without his mother’s approval, how could he marry?

But Song law didn’t always apply on this island or among the Li.

Seeing Li Sanjian gulp down the tea in panic, Wang Ruikun took it as consent and nodded with satisfaction. “Good, good. Then pick a day and you’ll be married.”

Wang Ruikun was a man of keen judgment—he would never marry his precious daughter to a coarse clansman. He believed Li Sanjian had a limitless future and was determined not to let him slip away. Once Li Sanjian went to the capital, it was uncertain when he’d return.

The Li had a custom of bride-snatching—if they took a liking to someone, they could seize them by force. Wang Wen’s mother had been taken by Wang Ruikun himself—though that was called “snatching a person,” not “snatching a bride.”

But generally, bride-snatching targeted women. To openly abduct a man as a son-in-law was exceedingly rare.