Chapter 86: Chen Canghai

Han Jian was hiding a lot from us. After we finished sorting the contents of the packages on the second floor that night, there was still a good amount left over. These items were clearly contraband in the country, yet Han Jian didn’t seem the least bit worried.

Around midnight, I heard muffled voices coming from the living room through the door. The next morning, when I went upstairs again, the black packages had completely vanished.

At five sharp, I packed up and headed downstairs with my bag, just in time to run into Lu A’yao, who was also ready to go.

I paused to glance at him. With all the arguing the other day, I hadn’t noticed his condition. Lu A’yao was wearing a mask to cover the Porcelain Shards on his face. Only now did I realize his hair had grown quite a bit, some of it already falling into his eyes.

I had every reason to suspect that the guy had rushed straight from Hubei to Yunnan without a break. That would explain why the tower’s location wasn’t easy to pinpoint. Without the Rubbing Manuscript in Han Jian’s possession to guide the way, even years of experience would be no match for the treacherous terrain of the Nu River gorge.

On the other side, He Yu tossed me a camel-colored windbreaker. I slung it over one arm and walked around the dining table, grabbing a couple of steaming soup dumplings from a plastic bag as I passed.

“Eat up and get ready to run. Qiao Sangui’s crew still hasn’t given up. They’re still lurking outside. I can’t even go out to buy a bowl of rice noodles without covering my face,” He Yu grumbled. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the local food—after just a couple of bites, he was already complaining it was too bland.

Han Jian was nowhere to be seen. The three of us sat on separate couches. He Yu, up too early, started nodding off again. Without his usual banter, the atmosphere in the room turned strangely tense.

Fortunately, Han Jian returned soon after, driving a beat-up old Honda he’d somehow acquired. The trunk was stuffed to the brim with diving gear, so we had no choice but to sit up front with the equipment in our laps.

I snagged the front passenger seat. He Yu looked like he wanted to protest but didn’t dare say anything. He just glared at me, cursing silently with his eyes. I ignored him, leaned back, and started dozing off as the car sped down the highway.

Over four hours later, I opened my eyes to the sight of churning river waves. The car was driving along the riverbank. The Nu River had relatively abundant water resources, but the steep terrain and rapid currents made it unsuitable for shipping. Along the lower reaches, we saw only a few scattered small boats.

In the distance, I could see the silhouette of mountains against the sky—snow-capped peaks or maybe just regular ranges, I couldn’t tell. The vehicle continued upstream, and ferry crossings along the river became increasingly rare.

I drifted off again. When I woke up, the Honda had stopped on a rocky beach. The windows and doors were open. In the distance, I spotted a small freighter docked at a makeshift pier. He Yu had just finished washing his face by the river and was now stepping across the rocks toward us, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Well, look who finally woke up—our little young master. Too bad all the work’s already done. All that’s left for you is to enjoy the ride,” He Yu said, rapping on my window. He leaned against the car, pulling out a cigarette.

Before I could reply, he suddenly seemed to remember something. He turned around and placed both hands on the window frame. “Oh right, Gan Ji, I remembered something yesterday. I think it’s really important—I need to tell you.”

“What are you two doing over there? Gan Ji awake yet? Most of the stuff’s already loaded. Come eat. We’re heading out this afternoon, and you can board the ship now!” Han Jian shouted as he walked over.

He Yu saw him and immediately shut his mouth, waving back. “Coming, coming!”

Then he muttered under his breath, “Damn it, what kind of world is this? Can’t even finish a cigarette in peace.”

The sun was already high overhead. The freighter Han Jian had arranged was very ordinary—small, with a cargo hold crammed full of goods. The cabin was tiny. Honestly, I found this a bit odd. If this were a professional expedition, there’d be no need to use a freighter as a cover.

At noon, everyone gathered in the cabin for lunch. The space couldn’t hold so many people, so we split into two tables. The important folks ate inside, the rest outside. As soon as I stepped into the cabin, I realized that, aside from the ship’s captain, I recognized everyone there.

Tian Xiaoqi was wearing a denim tank top and overalls, one leg crossed over the other as she played with her phone at the table. She didn’t even glance up when I entered. Han Jian sat beside her. While I was still processing the scene, He Yu darted past me and slid into the seat next to Tian Xiaoqi.

“Hey! What kind of tour group is this? Finally, someone easy on the eyes. I’ve had enough of staring at a bunch of sweaty guys all day. A pretty girl is a breath of fresh air!” He Yu started gushing the moment he sat down, compliments pouring out like machine-gun fire.

I walked over and kicked the stool out from under him, ignoring his string of curses as I sat down and asked Han Jian and Tian Xiaoqi, “Why do I feel like I’ve boarded a pirate ship?”

The ship captain burst out laughing at that. He probably didn’t catch the meaning behind my words, and replied in clumsy Mandarin, “Haha, this young man’s got a sense of humor! What do you mean, pirate ship? Don’t worry, I’ve been sailing for over ten years. No matter how big the waves, this boat won’t flip!”

I didn’t respond. I just sat down and quietly started eating. A group of us crowded around a pot of stewed fish. The meat was incredibly fresh, and the broth was a beautiful milky white—probably caught just this morning. He Yu cracked open a bottle of beer and started bickering with Han Jian as he gnawed on fish bones.

The cabin was stuffy and packed with people. The captain was a heavy smoker too, and the thick smoke drove me out. I ladled a bowl of fish soup and stepped outside to drink it. Leaning against the side of the boat, I spat out fish bones into the river. I hadn’t been out long when I saw Tian Xiaoqi follow me onto the deck.

Tian Xiaoqi closed her phone and leaned over to me. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I really am just out traveling this time. If Qiao Sangui hadn’t been keeping such a close eye on the docks, I might not even be on the same boat as you. At most, we’re just headed in the same direction.”

I thought to myself, bullshit. There’s no way this is just a coincidence.

“Your family didn’t send anyone to keep an eye on you this time?” I asked, raising the bowl to my lips with one hand and tilting my head back to drink the last mouthful of fish soup.

Tian Xiaoqi smiled. “Things aren’t like they used to be. My family can’t control me anymore. As for my uncle, he’s swamped with work. Right now, he’s probably running around like a headless chicken because of the Nine-Ring Jade Casket. He doesn’t have time to worry about me, so I can go wherever I want.”

She pulled out two cigarettes and stuck one into my hand. “You should worry about yourself instead. Don’t forget who passed out before even making it out of the cave last time.”

With that parting jab, she headed to the bow of the boat to smoke. Her sarcasm left a bitter taste in my mouth. Not long after, the sound of clinking glasses and loud voices drifted from the cabin—He Yu was at it again, drinking himself into a stupor.

The next to come out was Lu A’yao. He probably couldn’t stand He Yu’s booming voice either and came out for some air. I was bored out of my mind, so I lit the cigarette and started watching the people on the boat.

There were less than thirty of us in total, and at least twenty didn’t look like locals. I’d gone around and introduced myself earlier, exchanged a few words. When I shook their hands, I noticed they all had layers of calluses—oddly placed ones, not the kind you get from ordinary labor.

I figured they were the “professionals” Han Jian had brought in.

But they weren’t what caught my attention. What really stood out was a young guy, probably even younger than me. He was good-looking, thin, and wore a hearing aid. He’d been helping move cargo the entire time.

The boat captain said he was just a regular passenger, too tired to walk, so he was taking the boat downstream. He was mute, couldn’t speak, only used gestures, but no one could understand what he was trying to say. So he relied on his beat-up phone to type messages. Most people didn’t bother with him.

I’ve always had a soft spot for people like that. I mean, we’re not actual criminals. Everyone on this boat has their own agenda, but dragging an innocent bystander into this mess? That didn’t sit right with me.

Now the guy was sitting on a small folding stool in the corridor, and I couldn’t help but walk past Lu A’yao to go talk to him. I figured I’d try to persuade him to switch boats before we set off.

“Hey, you’re not originally from this freighter, right?” I asked directly as I approached.

He looked up at me, a bit surprised. Maybe he didn’t hear clearly, so he turned his ear with the hearing aid toward me. I crouched down and repeated my question close to his ear.

He bit down on the flatbread in his mouth, pulled out his phone, and typed a few words to show me.

“No. Going downstream across the river. Long way to go.”

I felt a pang of sympathy but still said, “Maybe you should wait and catch another boat. We’re not heading across the river.”

He typed again: “I just need to go downstream. Won’t get in your way.”

I sighed inwardly. Why was he so stubborn? Fine, everyone has their own path. I’d tried to warn him, tried to stop him. If he insisted on coming along, I just hoped he wouldn’t freak out when we eventually pulled out the guns and ammo.

So I nodded and introduced myself, then asked for his name. Even though he couldn’t talk, he wasn’t shy. He shook my hand and typed his name on the phone.

“Chen Canghai.”

I gave him a polite smile, but the moment I turned away, my expression changed.

He had calluses on his hands too. Obvious ones, between the thumb and index finger, and along the sides of his palm and index finger.

I didn’t know what kind of work caused calluses like that, but it sure as hell wasn’t writing. Just as I was trying to figure it out, Lu A’yao came up beside me and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear:

“Those are gun calluses.”