Chapter 88: Chapter 87: White Horse
"Is it settled?"
Fu Juemin nodded. Fu Guosheng didn’t press for details. He glanced behind his son, his brow furrowing. "Where’s your second uncle?"
"Second Uncle..."
Fu Juemin briefly explained his Second Uncle Fu Guoping’s plans. Fu Guosheng was silent for a long time, but surprisingly, he didn’t comment. In the end, he just waved a hand. "Let’s talk on the boat."
Fu Juemin dismounted and made his way through a patch of withered reeds. He soon spotted a small cargo boat moored by the riverbank.
A waterproof tarp had clearly been added as a roof, along with temporary partitions in the cabin. In case there wasn’t enough room, two small sampans were being towed alongside.
Fu Juemin walked up the gangplank. The boat was already crowded with people—five or six servants, including Locust Flower; the butler, Uncle Chen; and seven or eight guards led by Wang Shuisheng...
Add a boatman and two helpers to the mix, and there was hardly any space left.
Perhaps to avoid unwanted attention, Fu Guosheng had specifically chosen a small cargo boat. You couldn’t ask for much in terms of comfort, but its stealth and agility were its advantages.
When Fu Juemin stepped aboard, everyone greeted him with calls of "Young Master." Each person’s face showed a hint of relief, the look of a survivor.
After all, they had a clear view of the fires of war raging in the county seat. It was easy to imagine the chaos that must have engulfed the city.
"Wanrong, Shuxin, and Shuyao are in the cabin."
Fu Guosheng said. Fu Juemin nodded, then had someone lift a floorboard at his feet. He took a look and couldn’t help but frown. "Father, where’s the coal?"
"There’s no coal."
Fu Guosheng shook his head and replied in a low voice, "This boat runs on oil."
"A diesel cargo boat?!"
Fu Juemin was genuinely surprised.
Diesel engines were a true rarity these days. The fact that his father had managed to get one proved he hadn’t been the richest man on the Luan River all these years for nothing.
"With the horsepower of a diesel engine, even if we’re spotted, a normal boat won’t be able to catch us."
Fu Guosheng said, "Once we’re out of Yangping and into the Min River region, we’ll switch boats. The Su Family has already arranged the rest of the journey for us."
Fu Guosheng paused, then added, "Your second uncle left a pile of dynamite and kerosene at home. I had my men bring it along. It might come in handy later."
Fu Juemin saw a cold glint in his father’s eyes as he said this. He suddenly realized that no one in his family seemed to be a simple person.
Fu Juemin nodded and inspected the boat, inside and out.
Fu Guosheng had indeed prepared thoroughly for this escape. Food, fresh water, clothes, medicine... everything was provided for.
A dozen or so long- and short-barreled Western firearms had also been prepared. Wang Shuisheng and a few of the guards were already holding them, standing watch on the deck with solemn expressions.
Fu Juemin considered this. He was just about to take out the twenty million-plus silver coins he’d gotten from Song Lin to give half to his father when suddenly, a guard ran over to report.
"Master, Young Master... there’s a situation up ahead."
Fu Juemin’s expression turned grim. He exchanged a glance with Fu Guosheng and quickly walked out of the cabin.
Reaching an open spot on the deck with a clear view, he looked out and saw a large boat moored a few miles away on the water.
The boat seemed to be packed with people, and more were on the bank, carrying luggage and hurrying to get aboard.
Fu Juemin had exceptional eyesight. Squinting, he could clearly see that many of them were wearing student uniforms.
"It’s the boat from the Wang Family’s He Xi Dyeing Workshop..."
the guard who had made the report added in a low voice.
Fu Juemin wasn’t particularly surprised.
An event as major as the Fire Cloud Army attacking the city was bound to have some quick-witted and fast-reacting people in the county. What he found strange was that the boat was filled entirely with students.
"...That Boss Wang is a religious man. He probably wanted to do a good deed this time and bring some students along while escaping.
"It’s a shame they were targeted by the Red Turban Bandits. I don’t know if they’ll be able to get away this time..."
The guard pointed, and only then did Fu Juemin see that the group of students running on the shore was indeed being pursued by seven or eight burly men wearing red scarves. They were about to be caught.
"Young Master."
The guard who spotted the situation looked at him and said cautiously, "Should we take this opportunity to leave?.."
A glint flashed in Fu Juemin’s eyes. He made his decision in the span of a breath.
"Two of you, grab your guns and follow me."
He gave the casual order, grabbed a Han-made Rifle, and strode off the boat.
The guards all looked at each other, and only when Fu Guosheng gave them a look did two of them quickly step forward to follow.
Fu Juemin got off the boat, mounted his horse, and galloped toward the other moored boat with a calm expression.
Once he was within rifle range, he pulled on the reins, raised his rifle, and took aim.
"BANG—"
The sharp crack of a gunshot startled flocks of waterfowl from the reeds along the riverbank.
In the distance, one of the red-scarved men chasing the students instantly tumbled to the ground.
"CLICK-CLACK—"
Fu Juemin worked the bolt, chambering another round, and fired again.
"BANG! BANG!—"
With a few consecutive shots, Fu Juemin mowed down half of the pursuing Red Turban men. The rest finally reacted and began to flee for their lives in a panic.
At that moment, everyone—pursuers and pursued, those on the shore and those on the boat—was stunned by the gunshots. All eyes were drawn to Fu Juemin, noticing his presence.
Seeing that his goal of rescuing them was accomplished, Fu Juemin slowly lowered his rifle and was about to turn and leave.
Just then, he saw a short-haired girl on the boat, wearing an Indanthrene-dyed qipao, jumping up and down, cheering and waving enthusiastically at him.
"Fu Lingjun!!"
Fu Juemin was startled. He then recognized her as Jiang Yao, the student from Saint Gong Girls’ School with whom he’d had a few encounters before.
He hadn’t expected her to be on the boat.
Fu Juemin gave a sharp tug on the reins. The fine horse beneath him whinnied, reared up, and lifted its front hooves high into the air—his way of returning the greeting.
After that, he turned his horse around and returned to his own family’s cargo boat.
Just then, Cao Tian returned with Xu Xinyi. The group didn’t hesitate. With a shout, the small freighter carrying the Fu Family and their party immediately cast off its moorings and began to slowly travel up the river.
.....
"He’s saved us twice now."
On the deck of the Wang Family’s moored boat, Jiang Yao leaned on the railing, standing on her tiptoes to watch the Fu Family’s cargo boat as it slowly receded into the distance.
Her eyes, behind a pair of round glasses, were now shimmering with a brilliant light.
"Fu Lingjun... Fu Lingjun..."
She repeated the name over and over, whispering, "This time he was riding a horse and carrying a gun... just like the knight in that Western World oil painting we saw."
Jiang Yao looked around.
Just then, many of the girls’ school students on deck were discussing the scene of Fu Juemin saving the day from afar, a lone rider with his horse. Their conversation even included the old, straitlaced Westerner nun from their Saint Gong school, who was famously known for her dislike of men.
It was proof that, whether in the East or the West, such acts of drawing a sword to help another and standing up for justice were always worthy of praise.
And if the person in question was also a handsome gentleman on a white horse, the act became imbued with a romantic quality that girls couldn’t help but dream of.
"I think I’ve truly fallen for him..."
Jiang Yao suddenly sighed wistfully and turned to Zhou Yunzhi beside her. "It’s a pity he doesn’t like me.
He likes you, and you just have to be ungrateful.
This is just like a melodramatic scene from that play we rehearsed, *King Aier*..."
"Who says I don’t..."
Hearing Jiang Yao’s soft sigh, Zhou Yunzhi, who had been staring blankly at the departing cargo boat, suddenly snapped back to reality and was about to blurt out a response.
But the moment she met Jiang Yao’s confused and surprised gaze, she felt a pang of guilt and swallowed the words that were on the tip of her tongue.
Watching the boat’s shadow shrink into the distance, Zhou Yunzhi’s eyes suddenly filled with sorrow.
"Whether I like him or not doesn’t matter anymore....."
They were taking the Wang Family’s boat to Yingjing. The Fu Family’s boat was going upriver, while theirs was going downriver. Once they left the Luan River, perhaps she and the man in a Western suit on horseback... would never see each other again in this lifetime.
For some reason, the thought left an unexplainable emptiness in Zhou Yunzhi’s heart.
....
A fiery crimson, as fierce and surging as a wildfire, burned into the Luan River, "burning" for nearly four hours.
Afterward, the chaos and turmoil in the vast county seat gradually subsided. The old order had collapsed, and a new one was beginning to form.
At this moment, a large crowd of able-bodied men wearing red scarves and wielding swords, spears, and even clubs was gathered on the banks of the Luan River Pier.
Their clothes were ragged, and some were even barefoot, yet every face was filled with a mixture of reverence and fanaticism.
At the focal point of their gazes, a monster lay sprawled on the ground. It was tiger-like but not quite a tiger, with a vertical golden mark branded between its brows, and it was as large as a water buffalo.
This Demon lay on the riverbank, its four paws erupting with sinister, orange-red flames that rolled toward the river’s surface in waves.
Wherever the flames passed, the river water boiled, as if the river were flowing not with water, but with streams of volatile kerosene.
Everyone was forced to keep a great distance from the Demon.
Only one person, a skinny man with sallow skin, stood near the tiger-shaped Demon, unafraid of the rolling heatwaves.
The man was squatting, gently picking up a pebble stained with scorched water marks between two fingers. He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps to the Demon beside him.
"So...
the moment it smelled you, it ran away?"
