Eagle (Page 42)

“You won’t even know I’m here,” ShaoShu said. “Thank you.”

Ying nodded.

Hok turned to Ying. “Where to?”

“We will head south,” Ying replied.

“How far?” ShaoShu asked.

“To the end of the Grand Canal, just beyond the city of Hangzhou.”

“Wow!” ShaoShu said. “I’ve always wanted to go there. Are we going to meet someone?”

Ying paused and looked at ShaoShu. “We need to get something straight right now. Hok doesn’t talk much, and I talk even less. If you are going to travel with us, you’re going to have to keep your mouth shut. No more questions.”

ShaoShu made a gesture as if he were locking his mouth and throwing away the key.

“I am serious,” Ying said.

ShaoShu nodded back, silent. He suddenly seemed serious, too. Very serious.

Ying rubbed his carved chin and turned away. Perhaps there was more to ShaoShu than met the eye.

They shoved off, with Hok taking the first shift on the oar and Ying and ShaoShu under cover beneath the skiff’s canopy. Their plan was to travel continuously, stopping only long enough to stock up on basic supplies such as food. Hok would not try to find any additional herbs for her medicine bag. They hoped that as long as they kept moving, Tonglong would not catch them.

Ying and Hok soon settled into a routine similar to the one that they had established heading to Xuzhou, with ShaoShu constantly on the lookout for trouble.

They were running with the current, so rowing wasn’t much of a chore. Ying and Hok took turns, with Hok taking many of the daylight hours. Ying got plenty of rest, and that, plus the new dragon bone—at least in his opinion—helped get his sore shoulder quickly back on the mend.

True to his word, ShaoShu kept quiet. So much so that Ying had to look at him whenever he asked the boy a question because ShaoShu would often reply with only a head shake or a nod. ShaoShu spent hour after hour silently staring at the world around them, seemingly soaking it all in. Ying spent a lot of time beneath the canopy with ShaoShu, but somehow Ying hardly noticed the small boy. He had a way of disappearing right under Ying’s nose. ShaoShu seemed to enjoy curling into a tight ball and hiding in the most impossible places, even on this tiny boat. Ying found he didn’t mind having the kid around at all.

As the days passed, their surroundings changed from forest to farmland to village and back to forest, in no particular order. The late-summer weather changed often, too. It would be raining heavily one moment, then sunny and hot the next, followed by a chilly day.

The only constant Ying noticed was an odd one. Early every morning, no matter where they were, if it wasn’t raining, he saw old people exercising along the canal like the ones he’d seen at the park in Xuzhou. He assumed they were practicing something called Tai Chi Chuan, or Grand Ultimate Fist. He had never seen Tai Chi before, but he’d heard of it. He’d found the name amusing because it appeared to be nothing more than a series of slow-motion exercises that old people used to stay in shape. He knew that breathing techniques played an important part, and he could hear some of the practitioners hacking and wheezing as if they were taking their last breaths. On a couple of occasions, he half expected Hok to have to jump out and attend to the old-timers. There was nothing grand or ultimate or even fistlike about any of it.

Things went smoothly until they reached the city of Zhenjiang a week later. Zhenjiang was built on the banks of the mighty Yangtze River. The Yangtze was so famous, Ying had learned of it back at Cangzhen Temple. It was said that the Yangtze was even bigger than the Yellow River. Once Ying laid eyes on the extraordinarily wide Yangtze, he believed it. Unfortunately, before they would be allowed to cross it to continue down the Grand Canal, they had to pass through a check station.

Ying had heard about check stations, but this was his first time passing through one. They were set up by the Emperor’s men or regional warlords to assist with manhunts. Ying had a feeling he knew who this check station had been set up to intercept.

Ying was working the skiff’s oar, and he called out to Hok in a hushed tone, “You’re going to have to take the oar. There is a check station ahead. I have to hide, and you have to figure out a way to not look like yourself. Pretend you have buckteeth or something.”

“But there isn’t any place to hide someone your size on this skiff,” Hok said. “We don’t have blankets or anything like that—”

“Blankets are no good,” ShaoShu interrupted. “Everybody hides beneath blankets. I’ll show you how to hide. Lie down under the canopy, Ying. I’m going to make a junk pile around you.”

Ying hesitated.

“Don’t you trust me?” ShaoShu asked. “You said you did.”