*****
Chapter 41 - So Close, Yet So Far
*****
Zhujiao sat on the edge of the narrow cot in his rented room at the inn, staring at the rough wood grain of the floor. A cool breeze from the river slipped through the rough wooden slats that made his window, but it did little to soothe the turmoil in his chest.
He had been sitting there for what felt like hours, going over the decision in his head over and over. Seven gold crowns was… exorbitant. Literally enough money to feed a family for years, and the Captain was asking it for a few weeks of journey.
The smart choice seemed obvious – find another way out of the city. Even if it meant walking out into the countryside and hoping that his cultivation would protect him from the plague.
But then again… was it the smart choice? He had no real experience with the wider world, and though he had the advantage of being mentally an adult, most of his experience was in the Before. When he had a GPS and could google what to do if he got sick.
Not to mention that Captain Ahmir’s response to his destination implied that it would be neither quick nor easy to make it to Tiecheng.
And really, what choice did he have? The city had become a cage. He couldn’t push his cultivation any further for fear of drawing unwanted attention from the Blooming Lotus Sect, and he wasn’t so naive as to think that he had seen the last of the Red Talons. They might be distracted by the influx of people in the slums and the encroaching plague, but he had stolen hundreds of gold crowns from them. It didn’t matter that he had only gotten away with a couple of dozen – the fact of the matter was that the gang couldn’t afford to let him get away with it.
Standing abruptly, Zhujiao retrieved his coin pouch from the table, its weight heavier than it had any right to be.
The decision was made. He would accept Captain Ahmir’s offer and pay the steep price for passage downriver. The cost gnawed at him, but it was a small price to pay for the freedom leaving the city brought.
Zhujiao packed his few belongings quickly, strapping the coin pouch tightly to his waist before covering it with his shirt. It would be the height of irony to have his money stolen just as he was finally leaving, and he had no desire to tempt fate.
The walk back to the docks felt more freeing than he had expected. Every step he took felt like a weight removed from his shoulders, and despite himself, he started getting excited.
He still had plenty of money, after all, and the thought of being able to explore more of this new world on his way to Tiecheng was an addicting one. There was no rush, after all – he had many questions about how a modern case could possibly be in this world, but the answers would still be there if he took his time.
By the time he reached the harbour, the rhythmic sound of waves slapping against the docks punctuated his footsteps, and Zhujiao found his mood much improved. He weaved through the crowd, keeping his eyes ahead. When he spotted the Captain standing at the gangplank, speaking with a deckhand, he cleared his throat to get the man’s attention.
Ahmir turned, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto Zhujiao. There was a flicker of surprise before the Captain’s face settled into a polite smile. “Ah, young man,” Ahmir greeted, his voice smooth and measured. “Back so soon? I take it you’ve made up your mind?”
Zhujiao nodded, feeling the weight of the pouch at his side. He reached into it and counted out the stated amount, offering it to the Captain. “Seven crowns. Upfront.”
Ahmir raised an eyebrow, taken aback. “…I see,” he said after a moment, weighing the coins in his hand. The Captain’s expression softened slightly as he sifted through them, pulling out four of the crowns and handing them back to Zhujiao. “No need to part with all of it just yet. I only require half the payment upfront—standard practice for longer voyages.”
Zhujiao blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected honesty. “I appreciate that,” he said, taking the offered coins back and tucking them into his pouch. It spoke well of the Captain’s nature, returning part of his payment like that.
Ahmir slipped the remaining three crowns into a pocket inside his coat and gave a nod toward the ship. “We’ll be leaving at dawn the day after tomorrow, as planned. We sail with the tide, so make sure to get here early – the ship won’t be delayed for a single passenger, so if you’re late, you’ll miss it.”
“I’ll be here,” Zhujiao replied, feeling more settled now that the decision had been made. “What will I need for the journey?” he asked, his voice steady.
The Captain rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Food and water will be provided, but it’s always wise to bring your own stores. Get dried food if you can find it—jerky, hardtack, dried fruit. It’ll last the longest and keep your stomach full.”
Zhujiao nodded, committing each item to memory.
“Water skins or a decent canteen,” Ahmir continued. “Again, we have our own stores, but it’s not often we’ll run into fresh water, and when we do, it won’t always be safe to drink right away. You’ll also need a sturdy cloak, something to keep the wind and rain off. Nights on the river can get cold, colder than you’d expect. And the rain will hit you before you even see the clouds rolling in.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Zhujiao nodded again, mentally making a list of supplies to buy. He got the feeling that the Captain knew he didn’t have much experience and was giving some more general advice.
“Oh, and be sure to bring something to occupy yourself with. A few scrolls, dice, a deck of cards – anything that’ll keep your mind busy. We’ll be making several stops along the way, but there’ll still be long stretches of nothing but water and sky. Not much to do besides sit and wait.”
Zhujiao nodded, not too concerned. Long stretches on the water with no Sects or gangs to worry about sounded like the perfect opportunity to work on his cultivation. “Anything else?” he asked.
Ahmir paused, a smile flitting across his face. “Pray the winds are kind,” he said, his tone lighter. “And don’t be late!”
***
Zhujiao actually missed his alarm clock.
There were many things he missed from the Before, of course, but he never really expected his alarm clock to make the cut. Now, though, he couldn’t help but think that the sheer convenience of being able to wake up at whatever time he chose was highly underrated.
Waking up before dawn was not new to him, but without the reassuring blare of technology to wake him, he’d forced himself into a late afternoon nap before trying to stay awake through the night. A drastic measure, perhaps, but the last thing he wanted to do was miss his ride out of here. Especially considering the cost.
As he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the dark room, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, a dull ache behind his eyes and a sluggishness to his thoughts. Only the knowledge that he would be able to sleep on the ship was keeping him going at this point.
With nothing else to do, he dressed quickly, pulling his cloak around him for warmth. The air in the room was cold, colder than he had expected. The river must have brought in a breeze during the night, chilling the small inn. He sighed quietly, his breath forming a faint mist in front of him as he gathered his things.
His pack was already prepared from the night before, his supplies carefully stowed. He had little enough to his name—just a few changes of clothes, the dried food Captain Ahmir recommended, and a simple canteen. The coin pouch still sat heavy on his waist, hidden under his shirt for safekeeping. He patted it out of habit, ensuring it was still there, even though he hadn’t taken it off since yesterday.
The inn was quiet. No creaking footsteps from upstairs, no muted conversations filtering through the walls. It seemed he was the first to rise, unsurprising, given the early hour. Grabbing his bag, he moved toward the door, stopping only for a moment to glance at the room one last time. The simple wooden cot he’d slept on, the rough-hewn table, and the single flickering candle still burning on the windowsill seemed oddly lonely now that he was leaving.
When he finally stepped into the hallway, the dim light from the inn’s common room spilled in through the cracks in the door. The smell of old wood and lingering smoke from the hearth greeted him as he descended the stairs. The innkeeper glanced up as Zhujiao stepped off the last stair, her eyes narrowing slightly in a way that said she was already appraising him, wondering why he was up before the sun.
“Well now, you’re up earlier than most,” she said, her voice carrying a slight rasp from the cold morning air. She set the poker aside and wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Zhujiao gave her a tired smile, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “Something like that. My ship is leaving this morning, and didn’t want to risk oversleeping.”
The innkeeper chuckled, though there was little warmth in it. “Can’t blame you for that. This city’s not the kind of place you want to linger these days.”
Zhujiao nodded, feeling the weight of her words. “Things seem worse lately.”
Her eyes flickered with something he couldn’t quite place, perhaps weariness, or maybe resignation. “Aye, worse is one way of putting it. Plague, slums filling up, fewer and fewer honest folk passin’ through. You’re wise to be leaving while you can.” She stepped around the counter, folding her arms as she sized him up again. “You manage to find a captain willing to take you for less than both arms and a leg?”
Zhujiao hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Yeah. Captain Ahmir.”
The innkeeper gave a thoughtful nod, then stepped out from behind the counter, shuffling over to the door. “Ah, good man, that one. Heard he’s one of the more reliable ones still takin’ passengers with the plague ‘round.”
There was a pause, the air between them thick with unspoken things. The fire crackled behind her, casting a warm light against the otherwise dim room.
“You settled up last night,” she said, a bit gruffly now, as if trying to steer the conversation away from the city’s troubles. “But I’ll ask one last thing – do you need anything before you go? Once you leave those docks, there’s no telling when you’ll find safety again.”
Zhujiao hesitated, appreciating the offer but knowing he had all he needed. “No, I’m good. Thanks though. I’m ready to leave.”
The innkeeper studied him for a moment, her face unreadable. Then, with a small nod, she turned back toward the hearth. “Safe travels, then. May the heavens favour you, and watch your back. It’s a bad time to be caught unaware.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zhujiao said quietly, as he stepped toward the door.
The cold morning air hit him as soon as he stepped outside, and he huddled under his cloak as best he could to hide from it, suddenly more grateful for Captain Ahmir’s advice. At least it served to wake him up.
The streets were empty, shrouded in the deep blue of pre-dawn. The lanterns that lined the roads flickered weakly, casting faint pools of light onto the cobblestones. Zhujiao pulled his cloak tighter around him and started walking, his boots echoing in the stillness.
There was something unnerving about the silence. The city, usually so full of life even in the early hours, felt hollow now. The few people he saw moved quickly, heads down, cloaked figures scurrying to their destinations without so much as a glance in his direction. He couldn’t blame them. The fear that had settled over the city like a suffocating fog had made everyone wary.
The guards were out in force. More than he remembered from previous days. They stood at key intersections, watching the streets with cold, hard eyes. Zhujiao kept his head low as he passed by a group of them, the faint clink of their armour the only sound in the otherwise dead air. He wondered briefly if they were looking for someone in particular, but pushed the thought aside, focusing on the road ahead.
Then came the cultivators.
It was impossible to mistake them—the flowing robes, the way they moved with a grace and confidence that no ordinary person could match. Zhujiao spotted two of them, walking at a brisk pace down the street ahead of him. He ducked into an alleyway, watching them pass, his heart pounding in his chest. Even though they didn’t seem to notice him, the mere sight of them was enough to remind him of the precariousness of his situation.
He waited until they were well out of sight before slipping back onto the street, keeping his pace steady but swift. The docks were just ahead now, the familiar smell of saltwater and the rhythmic slap of waves against the pier reaching his senses.
But as he approached, a knot formed in his stomach.
There, standing near the entrance to the docks, was a group of Red Talons. They were leaning casually against a stone wall, their crimson sashes marking them unmistakably as members of the gang. They weren’t hiding—if anything, they seemed to be making a point of their presence. Their eyes scanned the few people who passed by, their expressions unreadable but alert.
Ah.
He had been wondering how the universe was going to screw with him this time.