Feng Zhiwei narrowed her eyes as she examined the sea of people on shore. The local government’s weling mittee and the representatives of the establish clans were all the way in the back, squeezed to the side like a tiny boat rocking miserably at sea.
She took Yan Huiashi’s Thousand-Mile Eye and used it to look into the crowd; using its reflected glass to scan the red robed, purple belted officials. Some chatted, others smiled, and some cast glances at the boat; a dark faced man surrounded by guards was sitting on an old fashioned wooden armchair as he read a book, shaded by a large umbrella — so leisurely even in the midst of ten thousand.
Feng Zhiwei shifted the Thousand Mile Eye down to the man’s rhinoceros belt — Second Rank South Sea missioner, Zhou Xizhong.
Unlike the poor and infertile Longxi, the South Sea Region held sway over the sea, and it was here the country had founded its General Maritime Department. Five old, established families thrived within its borders while maritime merce drove local business. Many people were wealthy, and the mon folk were considered quite open-minded. In an uglier turn of phrase, they were untamed. Zhou Xizhong had managed the South Sea Region for many years and had suppressed all five of the powerful families while controlling the untamed moners like they were his own arms — clearly, he was a talented man who far outstripped Shen Xuru in ability.
Even back when these plans were just discussions in the Cabinet, Feng Zhiwei had known the South Sea affair would be difficult. This missioner had dared to resist the Imperial Court, inciting all the officials beneath him to unite, and had so easily gathered over a thousand moners to petition the Imperial Court in his words. Such a brave, capable, and powerful man could not be taken lightly.
Today, he showed Ning Yi his iron — Ning Yi had swept through Longxi Way with blood and ferocity, and in response, Zhou Xizhong had ten thousand moners e to ‘warmly wele’ him at the docks. The missioner showed no sign of fear and was taking the first meeting to demonstrate his might.
A group of Yamen Bailiffs in red edged black were putting on a show as they valiantly chased the moners away; they waved their hands as if shooing ducks, but all they achieved was pressing the clan representatives to the rear.
Suddenly, a voice cried out!
“Drive away the confused, perverse officials!”
The words were like tinder to dry wood and the crowd was set ablaze as thousands of voices yelled.
“Drive out the corrupt Imperial Court!”
“We don’t need a Maritime Department!”
“Anyone who backs the families can get out of South Sea!”
“Go back to Dijing!”
“Pa!” A leafy vegetable ball flew out from the crowd, cutting a dark green arc through the air before falling to the sea some meters away from the ship.
The first throw was like a wakeup call, and then suddenly a numberless stream of vegetable balls and stinky eggs were flying through the air at the Imperial Envoy’s ship.
The majority of projectiles fell into the sea, but the few that hit the ship left it a mismatched array of color.
“Excessive!” The young, vigorous nobles from Qing Ming Academy trembled with righteous indignation — they had thought that they would be weled in South Sea with the highest of honors, but in truth they had almost died just to get here, and now they were being humiliated before they could even reach the shore. Yao Yangyu led the uppity grip, rolling up their sleeves as they called out: “Great Prince, Master Wei, let down the sampan! We’ll protect you and beat those f***ers!”
“Your Highness!” Yan Huaishi cried out, hurriedly pulling Ning Yi and Feng Zhiwei. “The bow is dangerous! Assassins might shoot arrows! Let’s return to the cabin!”
Ning Yi did not budge, and neither did Feng Zhiwei. They stood shoulder to shoulder at the bow of the ship, hands clasped behind their backs as they calmly faced the anger of the ten thousand South Sea moners, their long hair billowing up behind them like flags in the sea wind.
A bundle of dried fish plopped by Ning Yi’s feet, broken fragments splattering his boots; although guards tried to rush over and hold out umbrellas, all of them were waved aside by Ning Yi.
“South Sea moners are so rich.” Ning Yi smiled as he turned to Feng Zhiwei, saying: “Look, they even throw dried fish. This bundle of dried fish is worth at least half a silver tail.”
Feng Zhiwei nodded in agreement as she replied: “Steam it, add some sesame oil, vinegar, garlic, green onion. Delicious.”
Yan Huaishi paced behind them, rubbing his hands. He did not understand how they could be in such a good mood while they faced such hostility; whether or not it was an accident, their ship had struck a reef and was sinking. They could either wait for the local authorities to send a ship to save them, or they could put down their sampans and row to shore, exposing themselves to the vegetable and rotten eggs. How could Yan Huaishi let Ning Yi and Feng Zhiwei suffer such treatment?
If Ning Yi and Feng Zhiwei took the sampan to shore first, the moners would swarm forward and who would keep them cafe? If the guards took the sampan first to organize a shore defense while the ship sank, would Feng Zhiwei and Ning Yi fall into the water right in front of the officials and people of South Sea? How could they mand respect after that?
With all the South Sea officials ‘blocked’ behind the moners, they could not be counted not to send rescue; clearly they had been set up and the missioner was deliberately forcing them into a difficult situation.
Zhou Xizhong’s nickname was ‘Iron Faced Zhou,’ and the officials in South Sea called him ‘Zhou the Conqueror.’ He was unbridled and domineering, and he had suppressed the rich, famous families for years. If today was anything to judge by, he even dared oppose Imperial Envoys; hoping that he would yield on his own was a fool’s dream.
“I’ll tell my people to send a ship!” Yan Huaishi finally called out, gritting his teeth.
“No.” Feng Zhiwei replied. “The missioner has incited the people, claiming that your families have colluded with Dijing officials. How can we confirm their suspicion by allowing your Yan Family to e pick us up? We would only add fuel to the fire and worsen the situation.”
“Then what do we do?”
Ning Yi smiled and suddenly changed the subject: “Wei Zhi, I’m interested in the steamed fish you were talking about.”
Feng Zhiwei’s eyes gleamed, and she chuckled as she replied: “But one dish by itself is too simple... Brother Gu.”
Young Master Gu floated over, walnuts in his mouth.
“Let’s not waste any food.” Feng Zhiwei said, pointing at the floating vegetables. “Bring back whatever is still edible.”
Young Master Gu nodded and tossed two dozen or so walnuts into the water.
The walnuts spun through the air and dropped into the sea. Gu Nanyi followed, floating down over the rail and stepping down on the closest walnut.
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