Chapter Thirty-Three: The Incident at the Wharf

Although Li Mo’er possessed the scholarly prowess that Song Mu could only dream of, her daily behavior often retained a hint of childishness. When questioned by Song Mu in such a manner, she actually blushed, retreated to her hammock, and ignored him altogether.

Song Mu merely raised an eyebrow at this but paid it no further mind, continuing to study at his desk.

That day, when Song Mu arrived at the county school, he immediately sensed a peculiar atmosphere. Though everyone appeared to be diligently reading at their desks, an undercurrent of worry was evident in the furtive glances exchanged among the students.

The officials sent from Jizhou Prefecture to investigate had already arrived. Although County Magistrate Jin Changwu had not yet been stripped of his official hat, his authority had been thoroughly undermined. He was now forced to remain in the county office. Meanwhile, Registrar Zhou Zhiyun and Assistant Magistrate Shi Bufeng had taken over nearly all county affairs, rendering Jin Changwu powerless.

With the upcoming provincial examination looming, Instructor Ouyang Hong was extremely busy. Even if he wished to advocate for Jin Changwu, his efforts were but a drop in the ocean, to little avail.

Within the county school, Master Xun's teachings had grown even more severe. The lash fell less often, but the days of scolding had grown ever more frequent.

A week slipped by in this fashion, and quietly, August arrived. In a few days, Song Mu and the other scholars from Shiyang County would set out for Jizhou Prefecture to sit for the provincial examination.

After class one day, Song Mu and Kong Zong agreed to travel together to the prefectural city in a few days’ time. They parted ways at the intersection, and just as Song Mu was about to continue on his way, a half-grown boy with his hair in twin buns suddenly stepped into his path.

The little boy, sniffling, held a string of candied hawthorns in one hand and thrust a piece of paper at Song Mu with the other.

“Big brother, a letter for you.”

“A letter for me?” Song Mu’s expression was one of surprise as he took the crumpled note. On it was a single short message:

“Master Song, come to the dock by the east city wall. I have need of your assistance.”

With a single glance, Song Mu recognized the handwriting as Li Mo’er’s. Her small regular script was exquisite, and only she could write in such a fashion.

He smiled, ruffled the boy’s hair, and said, “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed!” the little boy shook his head, but then extended his hand to Song Mu. “Big brother, five copper coins. Sister said you’d give them to me.”

Song Mu was left speechless, but with a wry smile, he counted out five coins from his pouch and handed them over, then asked,

“How did you know this was for me? Did she tell you my name?”

The boy pocketed the coins and grinned, shaking his head. “No. Sister said to wait at the county school gate for a tall fellow with a book satchel, dressed a little shabbily. That’s who I was to find.”

Song Mu couldn’t help but laugh in spite of himself. So this was how Li Mo’er saw him.

Truth be told, it wasn’t inaccurate. He was indeed poor, wore a robe washed so many times it had faded, and carried a satchel pieced together from leftover cloth. At one meter eighty, especially in the south, he stood out easily among the crowd.

Watching the boy hop away, Song Mu glanced again at the note, slipped it into his satchel, and set off toward the dock.

Though Li Mo’er had been living on his roof beam these days, aside from that one time they’d ventured out together, she’d mostly kept to a nocturnal schedule. Now, with her suddenly asking for his help, Song Mu was curious—what could she possibly need from a mere licentiate like himself?

Could it be another task requiring his mind power?

Crossing the bustling streets, Song Mu arrived at the east city wall. Beyond it, not far away, lay the Gan River. Here, the river narrowed between two mountains, causing the current to rush furiously. Most boats offloaded their cargo to travel a stretch by land, and thus a dock had been established.

Song Mu exited through the city gate and surveyed the busy dock, searching for any sign of Li Mo’er.

A voice sounded behind him, “Master Song, come with me.”

He turned to see Li Mo’er dressed as an ordinary poor girl, gripping his book satchel in one hand.

He was momentarily speechless, but seeing her gaze fixed ahead, he followed.

“What’s going on? What do you need me to do this time?” he asked quietly as they walked. Li Mo’er’s eyes remained on a spot by the dock, but at his question, she finally explained.

“Short on hands. You came to mind, so I called for you.”

Song Mu was taken aback. “What about Brother Wang Xiwen from the other day?”

“Brother Wang had other duties and has already left Jizhou.”

“There are no other agents from the Celestial Guard here?”

“There are, but all are occupied with important matters.”

“Can’t you use some of the county yamen runners? Or the city militia?”

“They’re not our people.”

“And I am?”

“You? Master Song, you’re... easier to silence, less likely to let word slip.”

Song Mu nearly choked, stopping short and staring wide-eyed at Li Mo’er.

“Are you serious?”

Li Mo’er snorted, rolling her eyes at him.

They continued toward the dock. Though Song Mu’s height drew some attention, their plain attire and harmless faces kept them from attracting any undue notice.

Once they reached a pile of cargo, Li Mo’er tugged at his satchel and spoke.

“See that boat?” Song Mu looked up to where she pointed—a sailboat was approaching the dock.

“Wait here at the dock. When someone disembarks, engage them in conversation.”

“Conversation? About what? What’s on that boat?”

Li Mo’er pursed her lips, pondering, then replied, “I don’t know. The Celestial Guard informed me that a suspicious vessel would be docking here in Shiyang County.”

“If your Celestial Guard knows, why are you the only one sent?”

“No more questions. Go ask around, see if you can get aboard the boat.”

She cut him off, urging him toward the task. Seeing his hesitation, she narrowed her eyes.

“Master Song, are you unwilling to do this small favor for me?”

Song Mu sighed, shrugged, and edged toward the dock, muttering, “If there’s danger, you’d better save me. And stop talking about silencing me.”

With that, he slung his satchel over his shoulder, grinned wryly, and headed toward the docking boat.

He found it strange himself—why had he agreed to such an unreasonable request?

Shaking his head, he decided not to dwell on it. After all, with her scholarly rank, she should be able to protect him. If things went awry, he’d simply make a run for it.

With these thoughts, Song Mu reached the dock’s edge. The sailboat was just coming alongside. As the sizable hull met the shore, a pungent, indescribable stench wafted over.

“What in the world is in that boat to make it smell so awful?”