Chapter Sixty-Three: Riverbank Chicken

The waters of the Yellow River descend from the heavens, rushing on to the sea, never to return. People only know of the perils of the Yellow River, unaware that the Gan River is just as treacherous, and the most dangerous stretches of the Gan River are found in the Nine Rapids and Eighteen Shoals.

The deadliest of these is "Turtle Shoal." Upon reaching Turtle Shoal, one sees chaotic rocks scattered everywhere, resembling countless giant turtles lurking beneath the water, stretching endlessly along the river. Although the current here is swift and the rocks formidable, a navigable channel still threads through, allowing boats to pass with little real danger.

"So this is all it is," Gao Er said, feigning composure as he gazed at the turbulent waters and steep banks.

"Not yet," the old boatman replied, not daring to relax. He and the other boatmen stood on deck, eyes locked on the river's surface.

"Not yet?" Gao Er and his companions were stunned. Their passenger boat drifted like a paper skiff, bobbing about in the surging waters—how could this only be the beginning?

Indeed, as the old boatman had warned, before reaching Jieping, massive stones jutted through the water like a dog's fangs, the river surging furiously between the rocks with a thunderous roar.

"Let’s go!" the old boatman cried, leading the crew in a work chant as they pushed the wooden boat forward with their poles.

Carefully, the boat threaded its way between rocks known as "Man's Head" and "Tiger's Neck." A single mistake would spell ruin and death for all aboard.

But this was not the worst. True peril lay beyond Jieping, at Heavenly Pillar Shoal.

Heavenly Pillar Shoal, as the name suggests, features three stone peaks submerged in the river, towering like three celestial columns rising from the water. The passage narrows, the current accelerates, and waves surge like mountains, tossing the boat about.

Here, navigation demands not only an eye for wind and water but a keen awareness of hidden reefs—only the most seasoned boatmen can hope to succeed.

The river, wild as a galloping horse, drove the boat toward one of the stone peaks. The helmsman gripped the tiller tight, steering the craft past the first column, but the three peaks stood almost side by side—no sooner had they passed one than they hurtled toward the next at breakneck speed.

The stone pillars loomed ever larger, slick with moss clearly visible. The imminent disaster drained the color from every face on board, and cries of alarm arose again and again.

The bare-chested old boatman gave a low shout, clenched his pole, and fixed his gaze on the stone ahead. As the boat drew dangerously close, he let out a mighty yell, muscles bulging as he struck the rock with his pole.

At this moment, only a deft touch would suffice—too much force would snap the pole, too little would be useless.

Thanks to the old boatman’s remarkable skill, the boat skimmed past the three stone peaks, escaping danger by a hair’s breadth.

Though now out of immediate peril, the passengers were still shaken beyond words. Gao Er nearly felt his heart leap from his chest; clutching the gunwale, his face was ashen, as pale as a courtesan of Tokyo, as if thick powder had been smeared upon it.

Zeng Gongming had been scared out of his wits; if not for Shankui supporting him, he would have collapsed to the floor, wishing he could shed a hundred pounds of fat on the spot. To think, if all this blubber fed the fishes and turtles, wouldn’t they have a feast?

Daoist Zhang clutched his sword in one hand, forming a mystical gesture with the other, murmuring incantations, as if performing some grand spell to move mountains and shift seas...

Li Sanjian had first affected a calm air, hands clasped behind his back at the prow, reciting poem after poem as the wind fluttered his blue robe, giving off the bearing of an Immortal by the River.

But a great wave struck, and the boat rocked violently. Li Sanjian lost his footing with a cry and tumbled into the cabin, drenched by a cascade of river water that dripped from his head onto the floor, echoing with a steady drip-drip.

The Immortal by the River was transformed into a "Chicken by the River"...

A light laugh sounded from within the cabin, clear and melodious as a lark.

"All that posturing, and you’re just... what was it? Always aiming high and missing, making much ado about nothing..." the young woman inside the cabin teased with a soft giggle.

"Qing’er, mind your manners," the middle-aged man in the cabin chided his daughter, though he could not quite suppress a smile at Li Sanjian’s bedraggled state.

Li Sanjian, still unsettled, scrambled up, straightened his clothes, and bowed with a composed air. "I fear I have made a fool of myself before you, sir, I am but a humble scholar from Lingnan."

He must be a government official, Li Sanjian thought, stealing a glance at the man before him—a man of about forty, with a fair complexion, three long wisps of beard, his hair tied in a neat knot with a silk ribbon, dressed in a well-kept, home-style robe that betrayed no rank. Despite the recent danger, he carried himself with calm dignity.

Li Sanjian then stole another look behind the man and glimpsed the half-hidden face of a young woman. The beads of water on his head seemed to seep into his mind, leaving him dizzy.

She was a girl of fifteen or sixteen, her features retaining a trace of childishness, yet her mocking expression was astoundingly beautiful. Though young, her face was delicately lovely, with arched, graceful brows, cherry lips, and a fair nose, stunning enough to leave Li Sanjian speechless. She seemed to embody the very spirit of the mountains and rivers, intelligent and lively, clad in a long gown of pale yellow like a fairy from the Jade Pool.

"A scholar from Lingnan?" The middle-aged man, amused by Li Sanjian’s dazed look, cleared his throat and asked, "Lingnan is a desolate place. It must not have been easy for you to come here. May I know your honored surname?"

"I am just a student, unworthy of the title scholar," Li Sanjian replied hastily upon regaining his senses. "My name is Li Sanjian, from Qiongtai in Danzhou, a student of Lingshan County in Qinzhou. I am traveling to the capital, Kaifeng, to take the imperial examinations."

As he spoke, he kept sneaking glances at the young lady, but by now she had withdrawn behind her father, only the edge of her pale yellow skirt showing.

A true lecher, thought the middle-aged man with some annoyance, coughing twice before continuing, "So your surname is also Li. Do you have your credentials and documents?"

Are you checking the household register? Li Sanjian grumbled inwardly. Throughout this journey, no matter the rank of the officials or whether at a checkpoint or in a city, he had been thoroughly investigated every time.

"Here are my credentials and documents," Li Sanjian replied respectfully, producing the carefully wrapped papers from his inner garment and handing them over.

"The top scholar of Guizhou?" The man raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing Li Sanjian again. "No wonder—no wonder you could compose such a profound and elegant verse as 'Immortal by the River.' "

At this, the young woman peeked out once more, her bright eyes studying Li Sanjian, as if in disbelief.

"Your praise is too generous; it was a mere offhand composition," Li Sanjian replied modestly.

His humility finally satisfied the middle-aged man somewhat. Stroking his beard, he asked, "May I ask who your teacher is, Scholar of Guizhou?"

"In the past, I studied under Master Su Dongpo... but..." Li Sanjian faltered, but before he could finish, the man exclaimed in surprise.

"You... you are a disciple of Master Su? How is he these days? Is he in good health?" The man pressed eagerly.

"You know him?" Li Sanjian asked, astonished.

"I studied under him as well," the man nodded.

Master? He is also a disciple of Su Shi? Li Sanjian was stunned. It was almost comical—Su Shi had disciples everywhere. In Leizhou he had met Qin Guan, and now here in Qianzhou, another man claiming to be Su Shi’s disciple, though Li Sanjian had yet to learn his name. Everywhere he went, he seemed to run into Su Shi’s students.

Most awkward of all, Li Sanjian had been expelled from Su Shi’s tutelage—he still didn’t know why, but he certainly felt too ashamed to face others, especially fellow disciples.

"He... he’s doing well enough. His health isn’t what it once was, but he is not seriously ill," Li Sanjian stammered.

This answer displeased the man a little. To regard one’s teacher as one’s father for life and to honor one’s master—these were the most basic virtues. Yet Li Sanjian had not even spoken respectfully?

Is this man still half barbarian? the official wondered. The documents clearly stated that Li Sanjian’s father was Han, but his mother was from the Li tribe.

But Li Sanjian’s next words put his mind at ease.

"I... I have already been expelled from his tutelage," Li Sanjian said sorrowfully.

Soaked by the river and now crestfallen, he looked utterly wretched—a veritable drowned chicken.

A stifled laugh escaped the young woman behind the man, recalling Li Sanjian’s earlier bravado and comparing it to his present state—it was all too amusing.

Hearing her, Li Sanjian shot her a fierce glare.

Such was his nature—even if you were a peerless beauty, if you mocked or looked down on him, he would retaliate at once.

The girl, startled, quickly retreated behind her father.

How can someone be so uncouth? Nothing like a refined scholar at all, she thought, pressing her pale hand to her chest.

"Expelled from his tutelage? Why?" the man asked.

"I truly don’t know his reasons..." Li Sanjian did not wish to say more. As he turned to go, he could not help but glance again at the girl in the pale yellow dress.

Truly, a beauty for the ages, he thought.

"Please wait, Scholar," the man called after him.

Expulsion from one’s master was a grave disgrace, a humiliation unbearable in the eyes of the world. Li Sanjian’s conduct might have been unseemly, but the man could not hold it against him.

Su Shi’s disciples and former subordinates were everywhere, yet he had never expelled a student, regardless of political differences. What could be Su Shi’s intention? the man wondered.