Chapter 11

As it turned out, the disciple or two left stranded ashore were not the unluckiest ones in this chaos. Most people had even forgotten about the wooden ladder that had been propped against the hull moments before. After the flurry of activity barely subsided thanks to the steadying efforts of Hero Li, the disciple who had been clutching the hull squatted down, pale and shaken. He spent a few breaths calming himself before wailing in fresh horror.

“Where’s my junior brother! He was right behind me—the wooden ladder! Oh Heaven!!”

Only then did the others straighten up and look overboard. The ladder had plunged into the water during the earlier thunderous sound and now lay floating silently on the surface, sparkling in the light. There was absolutely no trace of the Biyang Valley disciple!

It must be noted that this particular vessel was exceptionally luxurious and consequently drew deep, requiring the dock to be positioned well beyond the shallows of an ordinary harbor. To put it bluntly, drowning a barely twenty youth who couldn’t swim would be more than easy.

The swordsman surnamed Li stared blankly for a moment, then gritted his teeth and spun around in a sudden frenzy. With an angry roar, he drew his sword and flung it. The Seven Stars Sword whizzed past the boatman Old Tan’s face and buried itself into the plank behind him with a heavy thud. The entire boat shuddered as if pierced, groaning dully. The atmosphere instantly froze, thick enough to choke anyone who tried to breathe.

Terrified out of his wits, wanting to sob but not daring to, the boatman’s legs buckled and he collapsed to his knees, sprawled on the deck. Words failed him, leaving him only to stammer through chattering teeth, “Sp-spare… this boat… spare my life, Great Hero!”

Far from cooling down, the swordsman’s fury erupted into a murderous rage. His face twisted with ferocity. Had others not intervened, he might have drowned the old boatman in the Yushui River on the spot. “I spare your life? Then who’ll spare my junior brother?!”

Beside him, Chen Shu was hopping impatiently, but He Yu’s tall frame blocked her path while Yun Shen watched her, shaking his head silently as he held onto her arm firmly, leaving her trapped for the moment. Helplessly, she witnessed the barely composed group plummet back into pandemonium. Some disciples restrained the great swordsman Li, others fired questions at the boatman. The disciple who almost fell overboard, saved her own skin, and was first to discover her lost junior brother seemed utterly broken. Leaned against the railing, she simply buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Just as the deadlock seemed unbreakable, a figure surged from the crowd, vaulted over the rail, and dove headfirst into the water below.

Stunned silence fell. The physique of the diver was sturdy and he wore a mask—none other than He Yu. Looking closely, they saw he gripped a rope as thick as a bowl’s rim—clearly the mooring line that had snapped moments before. With astonishing quickness, He Yu had repurposed the snapped rope into a lifeline. Amidst the startled gasps from the disciples, one person saw salvation—the old boatman’s eyes actually lit up. Seizing the distraction, he pulled free from the disciple clutching his collar and stumbled toward the side of the boat.

At that very moment, another shadow flashed swiftly and plunged into the river with a splash.

That person was Chen Shu.

Faced with He Yu already diving to rescue the youth, and Yun Shen momentarily stunned by his actions, Chen Shu acted without even a second thought. She wrenched her hand free from Yun Shen’s grip and launched herself overboard after He Yu.

The two resounding splashes didn’t rouse the others, but it was enough to flood the boatman’s heart with frantic hope. He hammered the railing, leaning towards the water and screaming himself hoarse:

“Yes! Save him! Quit arguing—save him, quickly!!”

No sooner had his desperate cry escaped than the swordsman Li shot him a ferocious glare. Only then did the boatman realize he stood right at the railing—a mere two steps from this rage-fueled young man. All colour instantly drained from his face again. He shrank back, tremors wracking him as he tried to mutter some feeble excuse. But before any words could form, the swordsman spun away—and leapt straight into the river himself.

Nearby Biyang Valley disciples gasped:

“Senior Disciple Brother!”

“A rope!—What are you just standing there for, you old coot?! Fetch more rope!!”

With no fewer than three people now diving in to rescue the floundering Biyang Valley youth—and with Chen Shu’s keen help—it took hardly any time before they located him sinking swiftly through the murky depths. Without need to expend any spiritual energy, they dived deep, scooped him up with combined strength, pulled and pushed him back toward the surface—only to nearly smack into none other than their Senior Brother Li mid-ascent.

As the esteemed senior disciple of a well-regarded sect, Hero Li usually bore an air of polished grace befitting a gentleman swordsman. Now, soaked and floundering amidst the waves, his hair clung to his face in dripping ropes. The complete picture rather resembled a drenched chick.

Chen Shu took one direct look… and couldn’t suppress the bubbles of amused recognition surfacing inside her. Though all three rescuers were drenched, He Yu and Chen Shu traveled with minimal accoutrements—He Yu’s sturdy frame seemed built for sudden immersion anyway. But Hero Li… oh, his layers of meticulously adorned disciple robes now clung heavily to his body, emphasizing every splash and slosh. Coupled with his earlier haughty authority… the sheer incongruity made Chen Shu want to giggle outright.

Being naturally straightforward and unfiltered, Chen Shu grinned widely while Hero Li, scowling ferociously, reached to take the rescued junior disciple out of her grasp. He seemed to wrestle hard with his temper when he demanded, “What are you laughing for?”

“Huh?” Chen Shu blinked innocently, plastering on a feigned nonchalance. “… I wasn’t laughing at you!”

Hero Li’s frown intensified like storm clouds gathering. He stared sharply at Chen Shu, clearly wanting to say more but choking back the outburst. However, Chen Shu didn’t flinch at all. If anything, seeing this proud ‘Great Hero’ struggling in the muddy water while putting on his fiercest scowl seemed ever more undignified—even rather hilariously pitiful. Met with his glare, Chen Shu’s giggle finally escaped unrestrained—a bright “pft!” escaping her lips before she could clap a soggy hand over them.

Luckily, He Yu chose that precise moment to call out nearby. Chen Shu slipped away as agile as an eel and swam hastily towards the boat, leaving the scene at remarkable speed.

Using methods beyond mere observation—He Yu had somehow also extended a section of the still-floating wooden ladder their way. Working together in the water, the three swiftly placed the injured disciple securely on an intact portion of the ladder structure. The rescued youth, buoyed by the makeshift support, was hauled safely toward the bank within moments. Once retrieved onto dry ground, Senior Brother Li immediately issued a command, and the handful of disciples who had fortuitously missed boarding the boat quickly escorted the victim back to the Biyang Valley sanctuary for urgent care.

He Yu and Chen Shu climbed back aboard by rope, while the panicked disciples finally produced several coils of rope to throw into the water. By the time the commotion subsided, the sun had already sunk beneath the horizon.

Now, the boatman was in tears, his earlier fury long gone. Half-kneeling, he crawled over and began babbling “forefather!” to He and Chen without restraint. He Yu silently turned aside, refusing to acknowledge his gesture. But Chen Shu stepped forward, bending down to speak to the man—only to be abruptly drawn back by Yun Shen.

Without a word, Yun Shen tightened his grip, pulling her arm firmly toward him, pressing her against his chest. As she twisted her head back to give him a bewildered look, his left hand swept out, wrapping his gray cloak completely around her.

“You… what are you doing?” Chen Shu leaned against his chest, tilting her head up thoughtfully. Her voice was muffled through the cloth.

“…To stop anyone from calling you a fraud again, of course.” Yun Shen replied. He paused, seeming to realize something, then loosened his hold slightly and patted her head through the fabric. “And to dry you off. Don’t catch a chill before we even reach Diancang Pass.”

—

Finally, under cover of darkness, the boat embarked, passing through ink-black gorges as it sailed directly toward Diancang Pass.

This messy, accidental confrontation had—against all odds—ensured a peaceful night’s rest for the trio. No one disturbed them till dawn. The grateful boatman, barely having unpacked his own belongings after departure, hurriedly delivered a small jar of wine.

Chen Shu carried a guilty conscience, Yun Shen couldn’t drink a drop, and He Yu, after inhaling the wine’s aroma with relish and seeing his companions’ indifference, reluctantly pushed the jar aside.

The boatmaster had brought thanks on the first day. Then, at dawn of the second day, as the morning’s dew still lingered and the sun was just peeking over the mountain ridges, the senior brother, Li Chou, also came knocking.

He didn’t enter the cabin, instead chatting with He Yu by the railing. As Chen Shu drowsily turned over on her mat, she could see him faintly through the paper window. He was dressed in another set of ornate, intricate robes, looking so dazzling to her half-asleep eyes that he resembled the peacock-shaped candy she’d gnawed on the day before.

Their voices drifted in through the crack in the window, but without yesterday’s sharp hostility. She could catch the restrained, slightly distant tones, which broke off within moments followed by approaching footsteps. Quickly, she scrambled back under her blanket, pretending she’d been meditating all night instead of sleeping in. When He Yu knocked, she loudly answered: “—Coming! Who is it?”

“I, He Yu,” he replied. “Are you up? I brought you something to eat.”

To call it merely “something to eat” was characteristic modesty from He Yu. Despite being adrift on this vast great river, he’d miraculously managed to heat some kind of flatbread until its aroma filled the air, combined with morsels of meat. The smell washed over her as soon as she opened the door.

Chen Shu’s stare widened in awe. She sprang off the wooden cot. Watching He Yu intently, she took the steaming offering. With a careful bite, her mouth filled with the chewy crispness of the bread mingled with rich meat—surprisingly moist, despite the ingredients.

He Yu sat on the edge of the bed, looked down, and said, “Slow down. Don’t choke.”

“This little bit can’t choke me,” Chen Shu swallowed. She shifted her question: “Was that the grumpy man from before? Did he cause trouble again?”

“That? No, not exactly,” He Yu answered, lifting his gaze toward the window. “He was apologizing. The disciples of Biyang Valley and my sect have longstanding grudges. Whenever they cross paths, provocation and conflict are almost inevitable—this time isn’t unique, and Li Chou isn’t the only culprit, either. Honestly, you were both dragged into my troubles…”

Chen Shu forced a small, awkward chuckle and muttered under her breath: “Then maybe I caused more chaos than he did…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” She finished off what she’d been holding, wiped her lips casually, then couldn’t help glancing at the other bag nestled against He Yu’s coat.

He Yu noticed and chuckled. “This one’s for Brother Yun. Want to go check if he’s woken up?”

“…Okay!” Chen Shu agreed generously, immediately jumping up without the slightest hesitation. She straightened her clothes without a backward glance at He Yu, still on the bed, and dashed ahead out of the cabin.

Yun Shen’s cabin was merely next door. What was the rush? It seemed he must have heard their noisy movements already: before Chen Shu could energetically fling herself toward his door, it slid open. Abruptly, she skidded to a halt just before him—less than an inch from stumbling directly into Yun Shen’s arms. The momentum felt swift enough to whistle.

“Why so reckless?” Yun Shen asked, a tinge of exasperation in his voice. For once, Chen Shu didn’t respond indignantly. Instead, she swayed straight into his arms as if she couldn’t steady herself. Instinctively, he caught her securely, then after a moment of silence asked, “…What’s wrong?”

“I remembered,” Chen Shu murmured, nestling deeper against his chest. Her rumpled hair brushed the skin exposed at his collar, tickling him irreversibly. Pressed tightly against him, her voice seemed to vibrate into his ribcage. “Something felt odd yesterday—how come I haven’t heard your heartbeat?”