Chapter 29: The Great Waves of the Han River (Part One)

Hua Chuer broke the arm of a second-rate martial artist, pinning him against the wall so he couldn’t move. The man wailed, begging for mercy, but Hua Chuer, unhurried, delivered another resounding slap. “Speak! Who sent you? If you don’t talk, I’ll keep grinding you against the wall!”

“Ow! Please, miss, I’ll talk, I’ll talk, just don’t—ah!”

Meanwhile, Wu Yueling guarded Li Wan’er, brandishing her sharp sword in wild arcs to keep the local ruffians at bay.

The commotion outside the Wulaike Tavern began with Madam Liu’s unwillingness to let Li Wan’er, the prized songstress, leave Lianxiang Qu. It was no easy feat to cultivate such a talented pipa player and singer, and her first night had yet to be auctioned—a lucrative prospect. At only eighteen, if word got out, every wealthy merchant in Xiang County would surely flock to Lianxiang Qu for a chance at her, further boosting the brothel’s fame.

Resentful and angry, Madam Liu returned to Lianxiang Qu and dispatched her lackeys to gather some martial artists and street thugs. After finding out where Wu Yueling was staying, she even tipped off the authorities, and in broad daylight, set the plan to snatch the girl into motion.

Naturally, the attempt ended in failure. More than ten days had passed since the Spring Outing Poetry Gathering. Wu Yueling had asked Hua Chuer to inquire about merchant ships to Chang’an, and today, they were finally packing up to head to the docks.

Over these days, Wu Yueling had heard snippets of praise for herself from the townsfolk, and though she tried to hide it, she felt a touch of pride. Some scholars even came to propose marriage, but Hua Chuer simply picked them up and tossed them far away. Others, intimidated by her reputation, dared not approach, fearing they’d be the next to be hurled away.

Wu Yueling sold her iron pot to the tavern, and the bearskin fetched a high price at a cloth shop. She bought dried provisions, cured meats, and a kind of dried fish slice from the tavern—rumored to taste as fresh as sashimi when rehydrated. She tried it with some sauce and vinegar, and indeed, it was delicious.

She bought five or six jars of dried fish slices, mainly because the little lynx loved them so much. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have bought so many; after all, the diligent little creature deserved a reward.

Hua Chuer discovered that the Qin family’s merchant ships were headed for Chang’an as well. Young Master Qin Huairen and his sister Qin Muyu seemed bound for the capital, their family having a branch business there. There were six merchant ships and two official vessels in the convoy.

This made things much easier. Hua Chuer openly declared herself the maidservant of Wu the Talented, and with Qin Muyu’s consent, they arranged to board the ship on the day of departure, free of charge.

The three arrived at the docks and boarded the Qin family’s merchant ship. After greeting Qin Huairen and Qin Muyu, they settled into their assigned cabin. The ship was small, so the three had to share a room.

Soon, with the spring breeze at their backs, the river’s waves rose and fell. The official boats set off at the head of the convoy, the Qin family’s small ship in third position, followed by the large official vessel. Zhao Heng, a student from overseas entrusted with the tribute silver, was aboard the big ship, accompanied by the Saint of Painting—revered as such in art history, and here, simply the Tang Dynasty’s own master artist, responsible for engraving the silverware. The fleet comprised eight boats in all: three small ones in front, four in the rear, with the large official ship at the center.

At first, Wu Yueling felt seasick, but after a few days, she grew accustomed to the rocking of the boat.

That night, beneath a bright moon, Wu Yueling stepped onto the deck, leaning on the railing as she gazed at the shadowy river, a gentle night breeze brushing past. Occasionally, the Qin family’s guards and sailors patrolled nearby, but they left her undisturbed.

Even with the moonlight, the riverbanks’ green trees were invisible. All she could see was the shimmering silver of the water and the dark silhouette of the big ship, and hear the splashing of fish playing in the river.

Hua Chuer brought Li Wan’er out onto the deck, searching for their mistress.

At the bow, Qin Muyu set down her guqin, glanced at the moon, and exhaled softly. With practiced ease, she began to play a serene melody. Hearing the music, Qin Huairen leapt up to the roof of the ship, picked up a jar of wine, and drank as his long hair spilled down his back. Slightly tipsy, he swayed to the notes of his sister’s music.

Wu Yueling, having heard the music, walked toward the bow. She saw the young woman bathed in silver light, playing her guqin—a blue dress draped over the deck, her hair cascading like a waterfall, a faint fragrance drifting on the wind.

Wu Yueling narrowed her eyes and took a deep, contented breath. With such a scene and such a beauty, only the absence of wine was a pity. She sighed quietly in her heart.

Hua Chuer and Li Wan’er also reached the bow and stood beside their mistress, catching her murmuring about the lack of wine. Hua Chuer listened, then looked around.

She soon spotted Qin Huairen atop the ship, still lost in the music, a sealed wine jar in his arms. Stealthily, she climbed up and deftly took the jar before he noticed. As she was about to slip away, she saw Li Wan’er pointing at her, confused. Taking a step back, she accidentally knocked over another jar, which rolled across the deck and shattered with a crash.

Qin Huairen snapped awake, the music faltering but not stopping. Wu Yueling, curious, looked toward the sound and saw Hua Chuer, an awkward expression on her face, holding the wine jar behind Qin Huairen.

“My wine! Where’s my wine?” Qin Huairen exclaimed, realizing the jar in his arms was gone.

Hua Chuer leaped down to the deck, waved the jar at him, and teased, “Here it is. Want it back?”

“Hmph! You little thief, daring to steal my wine! Let’s see how I take it back!” Qin Huairen leapt from the ship’s roof, charging at Hua Chuer.

Hua Chuer smiled and dodged nimbly, easily evading his every grab. Each time he thought he had a chance, she snatched the jar away again. Their playful struggle grew lively, and Qin Muyu, hearing the commotion, quickened her tune—the music now like a hundred galloping horses or a great, surging river.

As the music cut off with a sharp chord, Hua Chuer made a quick move, seized Qin Huairen’s wrist, swept his leg, and twisted his arm behind his back, pinning him to the deck. Triumphant, she set the wine jar atop his tousled head.

“Ow, easy! That hurts, I give up!” Qin Huairen cried out, realizing this woman’s martial arts were extraordinary. Though he was a first-rate fighter, he couldn’t reclaim his wine and was subdued with ease. He understood instantly: this woman was at least a grandmaster. Young as she was, it was astonishing. Though he begged for mercy, his pride remained unbowed.

“Now you know your place,” Hua Chuer said, releasing him.

At that moment, footsteps approached as guards arrived, weapons drawn at the sight of their young master on the ground.

“Stand down! I was merely sparring for fun. You’re dismissed,” Qin Huairen said, shaking out his aching arm.

Wu Yueling stepped forward, took the wine jar from Hua Chuer, and handed it to Qin Huairen. “Here you are. Chuer likes to play—please don’t take offense.”

“Haha, when have I ever minded? Please, enjoy it yourself. The wind is strong; I’ll retire for the night!” With his hair disheveled and clothes askew, Qin Huairen turned and left.

Wu Yueling sighed—he was clearly still upset. She scolded Hua Chuer, then opened the wine jar, took a sip, and handed it to her. Li Wan’er claimed she was a poor drinker, but under Hua Chuer’s teasing, she took a few sips herself. In truth, having served guests as the chief attendant, her tolerance was not lacking.

Qin Muyu, on the other hand, could hardly drink. Hua Chuer brought her the jar, praising her music and urging her to drink. Qin Muyu only took a small sip, but Hua Chuer insisted on a big gulp. Afterward, Qin Muyu felt dizzy and had to be helped back to rest.

Wu Yueling could only admonish Hua Chuer again—not everyone has your capacity for drink. Hua Chuer retorted that her mistress was the real wine barrel, having drunk all the wine at the poetry gathering. Li Wan’er chuckled quietly at their banter, savoring this carefree life—though she felt a touch of loneliness without her pipa.