Chapter 11:
Fentou Island
COMPARED TO THE STRETCHES of river on either side, the section near Wolong County was shallower and narrower, with small islets scattered in its middle. Most of those islets were tiny—if the Lu brothers’ run-down compound were placed on one, there’d be scarcely any space left. Most of the shoals were swathed in fine cogon grass; usually, they served little purpose beyond offering resting spots for waterfowl. Only one of them was barely large enough to be called an island.
This island was choked with sprawling forests, their branches twisting and interlocked. When looked upon from afar, it resembled a green bun, or a burial mound, perhaps. Thus, the locals called it either Mantou Island or Fentou Island—meaning bun or grave, respectively.
With its dense overgrowth of wild grass and trees, most people had little desire to go to Fentou Island. It was dark and desolate, not at all inviting. The only people who did visit were the pharmacists from nearby villages. The soil on Fentou Island was fertile and moist, so many medicinal herbs grew there. Lu Shijiu had been there two or three times.
One crisp morning, about half a month ago, Lu Nianqi had opened his eyes and found a note beside his bed. Lu Shijiu didn’t know how to use a brush, and he usually wrote by dipping his finger in ink, so his handwriting was easily identifiable. The note comprised a single crooked line: Went to Fentou Island.
As outsiders had noticed, the Lu brothers weren’t close. Lu Nianqi was prickly, with a difficult personality, while Lu Shijiu was eccentric and reticent. It wasn’t unusual for him to up and leave with just a note. At first, Lu Nianqi hadn’t thought much of it. He angrily started a fire to cook and gathered some firewood, waiting for Lu Shijiu to return. He waited and waited, all the way until nightfall when it started to rain, and still he saw no sign of Lu Shijiu.
“I went to the crossing, and the boatman there said the rain was too heavy for him to go to the island,” Lu Nianqi explained. Despite his young age, he was clear and articulate. “He also said Shijiu had boarded Old Man Liu’s black-awning boat, and Old Man Liu hadn’t returned either, so they were most likely taking shelter from the rain there. I sort of saw fishing lanterns in the middle of the river, so I figured they really were taking shelter and went back. But then…”
But then the rain continued for three days, until even the river had swollen. Lu Nianqi went to the crossing every day to check the fishing lanterns before returning home, anxiously waiting for the rain to stop. He scrounged up a few copper coins and found a passenger boat at the crossing, then traveled to Fentou Island in the center but found neither Lu Shijiu nor Old Man Liu.
“I searched almost every inch of Fentou Island but couldn’t find him. But, just once, I did hear his voice,” Lu Nianqi said. “When I called out to him, the voice disappeared.”
Lu Nianqi traveled to and from Fentou Island six or seven times, yet never found Lu Shijiu. A few days ago, a small whirlpool had cropped up near Fentou Island, capsizing two passenger boats. The boatmen were reluctant to go again. No matter how Lu Nianqi pleaded, they refused.
More infuriatingly, for the past few days, Lu Nianqi had heard knocking at the door early in the morning and late at night. The first two times he thought it was Lu Shijiu returning, so he hurried to open the door, only to find no one outside. After looking around and returning to his room, he noticed that one of the chests within seemed to have been moved.
“It contained the four strings of money we’d saved up, and they were all gone! Not a single coin left! How am I supposed to pay the boatmen now?!” Saying this, Lu Nianqi bristled like a wild dog, his hackles rising.
Xue Xian clicked his tongue. “So that’s why you splashed me with water after opening the door. What shameless asshole would steal from a kid who’s just eight or nine? Though, just because your money got stolen doesn’t mean you can steal my marble! What kind of logic is that? You’re lucky I can’t walk right now, or I’d dunk you upside down into the river.”
“Who’s eight or nine?” Lu Nianqi retorted, his face red with embarrassment.
“You, of course!” Xue Xian snapped. “Who else could it be?”
“I’m fifteen!” yelled Lu Nianqi, both agitated and angry. “I was ill as a child and it stunted my growth. Don’t randomly assume someone’s age from their face!”
Xue Xian was a little surprised, but the age and height of this bad-tempered, unlucky child were not his concern. He was more interested in whether Lu Shijiu was alive.
He wasn’t the only one who thought this. Xuanmin swept his sleeves, extinguishing the dwindling flames in the brazier with a soft whoosh, leaving only dark curling smoke. That done, he reached through the smoke and plucked Xue Xian and Jiang Shining from their branch. Both paper dolls had been dried by the fire and were undamaged. The sole imperfection was that the ink delineating their faces had smudged a little.
Jiang Shining hurriedly reverted to human form. He now bore even darker circles under his eyes, more pronounced than before; they seemed to cover half his cheeks, vividly depicting a patient at death’s door.
Somehow, Xue Xian had fared worse. With his paralyzed legs, being in human form was inconvenient, so he usually stayed a doll—but the smudged ink was stark on his paper face, running down from the corners of his eyes and nose. Whereas before, he had resembled a wide-eyed corpse, he now looked like one that was bleeding from every orifice. It was quite an unpleasant sight.
Xuanmin took one look at Xue Xian and shoved him right back into the pouch. His cold expression had taken on a hint of numbness, as if he wished to wipe Xue Xian from his mind.
Seeing the icy monk about to leave, Lu Nianqi couldn’t resist asking, “Where are you going?”
“To the river’s center,” replied Xuanmin.
Lu Nianqi leaped to his feet at his words. “Are you going to look for Lu Shijiu? Can you take me along? I want to go too!”
“Suit yourself.” Xuanmin tossed out those clipped words without turning his head and strode toward the crossing.
It’d been a while since Xue Xian had stayed in the pouch. He discovered that its contents had expanded. Other than his precious golden marble and the cloth bag of needles, there was a smattering of objects that were hard to the touch. Xue Xian sidled toward one, felt it up, then took a bite.
Silver pieces. And a lot of them. Where had they come from?
When they reached the crossing, it was shrouded in snow and fog, with a few passenger boats docked. The boatmen were likely huddled beneath the awnings, making for a desolate scene.
Xuanmin rang one of the copper bells hanging from the flags. Several boatmen peeked out from under their awnings. “The fog is too thick,” one of them drawled. “We can’t cross the river. Come back later.”
“We’re not crossing.” Xuanmin pointed into the river. “I want to go to Fentou Island.”
The moment he said this, the boatmen shook their heads and retreated back under the awnings without another word. Only one boatman was amenable enough to offer an explanation. “Young shifu, you’re not a local, are you? A whirlpool near Fentou Island capsized some boats recently. Whatever you wish to do, I advise you go elsewhere. No boatman is willing to go there.”
Xuanmin let him finish, then asked, “How much would it cost to rent the boat alone?”
The boatman was stunned. Beautifully decorated pleasure boats were common rental targets, but rarely did people seek to rent these black-awning boats. After all, such passenger boats were narrow and difficult to steer. Without a boatman, few would be able to safely row them to the opposite shore.
“That’s…” The boatman hesitated.
Xue Xian took two silver pieces from within the pouch and held them to the pouch’s opening without a word.