Fish Meat – Chapter 127
by Little PandaThe First Year of Zhao Wu
The Path of Ten Thousand Directions (6)
When Zhen Wenjun boarded the ship despite her injuries, she looked up intently at the wind vane atop the main mast, shouting commands for everyone to pull the sail ropes, setting the sails against the wind. With everyone’s coordinated effort, the ship changed direction and swiftly retreated with the sea wind.
A dark mass of churning fish still followed around the ship’s perimeter. The giant monster fish could leap from the water for a fatal strike at any moment. With its force and weight, if it struck the ship’s middle rather than the bow or stern, splitting the entire vessel in two would be no difficult feat. Zhen Wenjun jumped up to the helm deck seeing the fish school pursuing relentlessly. The giant monster fish leaped up targeting the helm deck – Zhen Wenjun’s vision went dark. What could be done in this situation!
Just as the monster’s long tail was about to strike the hull, amid a heaven-splitting roar, Xiaohua yanked up the auxiliary anchor from the ship’s stern and hurled it howling through the air at the monster fish. The monster fish took a direct hit from the extremely heavy anchor with a tremendous “BANG,” scales and water shaking off its body, showering all over Zhen Wenjun.
The monster fish was beaten back into the water by Xiaohua, and for a while didn’t dare approach again. The young fish circled around it, no longer attacking but not dispersing either, following closely.
Zhen Wenjun gave Xiaohua a sincere thumbs-up.
Everyone knew how heavy this anchor was – even the auxiliary anchor used for enhanced stability weighed thousands of jin (approximately 500kg). That Xiaohua could swing such a thing – Zhen Wenjun was impressed to the point of prostration.
Though Xiaohua was strong, that swing was an adrenaline-fueled burst beyond her normal capabilities. Now both her arms were completely powerless, unable to lift them.
Zhen Wenjun ran up to the arrow tower, frantically shooting at the eager young fish. The school was driven back several zhang (1 zhang โ 3.3 meters) before swimming back undeterred. The monster fish, now swimming quietly after its lesson, became more cautious, seemingly observing the ship and its people carefully, unhurriedly waiting for its next opportunity.
What kind of monster was this?
This type of fish had never been seen in Da Yu, nor had Mother ever mentioned it!
When Wei Tingxu came up to help, Zhen Wenjun immediately pushed her back into the cabin, shouting: “Stay here and don’t come out!”
Before Wei Tingxu could speak, she had locked the cabin.
Zhen Wenjun returned to the arrow tower, glancing at the remaining arrows – about two hundred left. Xiaohua was spent after one strike, where was Ah Xi? Where was Zuo Kunda?
Just as her thoughts turned to Zuo Kunda, there was a “splash” as someone fell into the water. Zhen Wenjun kept her eyes fixed on the monster fish to guard against another sudden attack, unable to spare a glance to see who had fallen in.
“Ji Yong, are you mad? Quickly come back up!” someone shouted from the deck. Zhen Wenjun’s scalp tingled – at such a critical moment, what devilry was this fellow Zuo Kunda up to, was he trying to get himself killed?
Zuo Kunda had a rope tied around his waist, its other end hastily secured to the ship. Without time to think further, he dove into the sea, swimming forcefully toward where Lady Ah Xi had fallen. (LP: This is not the Ah Xi that Wenjun met in the war.)
Lady Ah Xi couldn’t swim. When she was knocked into the sea by that earlier impact, fortunately a wooden table had fallen in with her. She clung to it, desperately crying for help. The school of young fish quickly swam over to surround her, a ring of blue-white eyeballs staring at her, ready to surge forward and reduce her to bare bones.
Lady Ah Xi was Ah Liao’s intimate companion within the “Qing Yuan”. Ah Liao, having grown up inland, couldn’t swim, but seeing Ah Xi in peril, despite still having chest pains from being kicked onto the ship, she frantically tried to dive in to save Ah Xi, only to be desperately held back by Ah Zheng and others.
“Ah Liao, don’t throw your life away!” Ah Zheng and the other twenty-one ladies rushed to tightly embrace Ah Liao at their center, refusing to release her no matter how she cried and shouted.
“My Ah Xi! My heart’s flesh! How can I watch helplessly as she becomes fish fodder?! Let me die with her, don’t stop me!” Ah Liao cried until nearly blind, screaming heart-rendingly when Zuo Kunda jumped into the water.
Zuo Kunda swam vigorously toward Lady Ah Xi with a harpoon in hand. The young fish’s encircling formation grew increasingly tight, about to lock onto their target and attack. Zuo Kunda dove underwater, circling up from below like an arrow leaving its bow. The young fish swarmed up with open jaws to bite. Ah Xi screamed for a long while but felt no injury; when she opened her eyes again, she saw a man shielding her. His harpoon was covered in blood, having split open the mouths of the nearest group of young fish.
“Take a deep breath and hold tight to me!” Zuo Kunda shouted, and Ah Xi instinctively complied.
Before the young fish could launch another fierce attack, Zuo Kunda quickly dove down with Ah Xi. While the people on the ship pulled the rope and Zuo Kunda swam with all his might, they couldn’t shake off the pursuing school of young fish.
The fish moved with extreme speed, like a giant water snake in relentless pursuit. Ah Xi kept her eyes tightly shut, holding her breath until her lungs felt ready to burst, but they hadn’t yet reached the surface!
Zhen Wenjun put down her crossbow to help pull the rope. Over ten people worked together, fighting against the tremendous resistance of the water. They could see the shadows of Zuo Kunda and Ah Xi and the frantically pursuing fish school, their hearts burning with anxiety.
“Hurry! Hurry!” Zhen Wenjun’s shouts increased everyone’s sense of urgency, their palms rubbed raw without them even noticing. Ah Liao anxiously lay at the ship’s edge calling Ah Xi’s name when a young fish shot straight up from the water, aiming for her nose. Ah Zheng blocked it with her arm, saving Ah Liao’s delicate nose, but the young fish bit firmly onto Ah Zheng’s arm, trying to drag her down. These young fish that looked small in the water turned out to be as large as adults up close. The ladies brought out their weapons to attack, cutting the self-trapped young fish to pieces, while at the other end, the monster fish seized its opportunity to launch another aerial assault!
The ship was in chaos. Except for Ah Xi who had earlier hidden in the storage room and Wei Tingxu who had been locked away by Zhen Wenjun, even the exhausted Xiaohua was using her remaining strength to control the sail’s wind direction. Everyone was shouting, unable to distinguish between sweat and seawater on their bodies, when the monster fish’s attack came again with no one prepared to defend or resist.
When it rose into the air, casting a terrifying shadow over the ship, the crowd only then raised their heads, realizing the danger.
This might be the final scene of their lives.
Without exaggeration, everyone foresaw only two possible deaths awaiting them: either being smashed into the seafloor to become fish fodder, or being thrown high into the air to shatter upon hitting the sea surface.
Under this shadow of death, a small, thin figure stood guard at death’s door.
“Is it pressed here?” Zhong Ji looked down at the crossbow’s slot, confirming she had the right trigger mechanism. At this critical juncture where the weight of a thousand jun hangs by a thread, she aimed this ancient rhinoceros crossbow at the monster fish.
With a flick of two fingers on the mechanism, the crossbow fired “tut-tut-tut” – three arrows at the monster fish, striking its eye dead center.
Zhong Ji remained completely calm, reloading and firing with lightning speed. The monster fish thrashed and twisted its body frantically, falling past the ship’s bow with just a hair’s breadth from striking the vessel.
The ship rocked in the waves created by the monster fish’s fall, throwing everyone to the deck. At this critical moment, Zuo Kunda had just made it aboard, falling together with Ah Xi. Using his last bit of strength, Zuo Kunda turned away from Ah Xi’s body, crawling to the side to vomit water in great gulps.
One of Zuo Kunda’s legs was bitten to a bloody pulp, and Ah Xi had lost consciousness. Ah Liao and her ladies quickly came to provide aid. Zuo Kunda, having barely recovered his senses, weakly said:
“Turn herโฆ face down, so the water can come out.”
Zhen Wenjun, Xiaohua, and many strong warriors together pushed forward at full speed, fortunately catching a sea wind, narrowly escaping .
After confirming the fish school wasn’t pursuing anymore, Zhen Wenjun let out a wail and collapsed on the wet deck, without an ounce of strength left to move.
Several hundred people all fell in exhaustion. After the extreme tension, their muscles screamed in pain, wishing they could cut off everything below their heads to escape this torment.
Zhen Wenjun fell asleep while still panting. Everyone on the ship had suffered injuries or shock to some degree, except for Zhong Ji.
While the entire ship’s company lay immobile, Zhong Ji went around checking everyone, marking those with serious injuries, and reassuring those who were merely shocked, telling them they weren’t injured before moving on.
After Zhong Ji finished her inspection, Xiaohua came forward and asked:
“You know how to use a crossbow?”
Zhong Ji: “No. Just learned it now.”
The two exchanged glances for a moment before simultaneously turning away, each returning to their own tasks.
Xiaohua released Wei Tingxu from the cabin.
Wei Tingxu emerged with an unfriendly expression, and Xiaohua didn’t know how to console her. She quickly walked to Zhen Wenjun’s side, discovering that her wounds from the Guxi country hadn’t fully healed and had burst open again. At the rate she was accumulating injuries, who knew how many more wounds she would sustain before returning to Da Yu.
“Hmm?” Zhen Wenjun opened her eyes with confusion and difficulty.
“You really just fell asleep like this.”
“Yes,” Zhen Wenjun closed her eyes and smiled, “I woke up smelling your fragrance.”
“Still have energy for nonsense?”
“How is this nonsense? If not for you, I probably would have abandoned ship and fled long ago. I’m so tired, let me sleep a bit moreโฆ” Zhen Wenjun fell asleep as soon as she finished speaking, and Wei Tingxu remained kneeling beside her without leaving.
When Zhen Wenjun next awoke, it was to the aromatic smell of Xiaohua’s grilled fish.
In her dream, she had been frantically devouring the monster fish that had attacked them. Though the fish looked frightful, it tasted incredibly delicious! Her stomach kept making gurgling sounds as she ate, and she was quite puzzled – how could she still not be full after eating an entire large fish?
Upon waking, she realized she hadn’t eaten a single bite, and her stomach was practically flat from hunger.
As she turned to get up, planning to feast heartily, she suddenly discovered someone in her arms.
Looking down, she saw Wei Tingxu sleeping deeply against her chest, the two of them sharing a blanket, sleeping together on the deck.
Zhen Wenjun looked around – it was twilight, with the warm sun slowly sinking below the horizon where sea met sky. Others on the ship were busy at the bow, stern, and sides – some grilling fish, others tending to wounds, all tactfully avoiding looking in their direction.
Zhen Wenjun couldn’t bear to disturb Wei Tingxu’s sleep, just as Wei Tingxu had done for her two hours (equal to two hours) earlier.
She stroked Wei Tingxu’s long hair while her stomach’s growling grew increasingly loud.
So hungry.
Wait a bit, wait until Zizhuo wakes up.
But so hungry, really so hungry.
Still, wait a bit, just a bit longer.
When the sun was setting and dinner was about to begin, Ah Xi appeared, unable to find Qi En anywhere.
“He’s dead,” Xiaohua told her the truth bluntly.
“Dead?!” Ah Xi nearly collapsed on her bottom. “What about the Ten Thousand Way Compass?! Is it lost too?!”
Xiaohua didn’t answer her, and Ah Xi completely panicked: “With him dead, what about the Country of Flowing Fire? Forget about the desert – right now! Which direction should we go on this sea?”
Everyone on the ship looked toward Ah Xi.
“Does anyone know?!” Ah Xi shouted.
“Ah Xi.” Zhen Wenjun, holding a skewer of fish meat, beckoned to her.
“I can’t eatโฆ” Ah Xi was so troubled her entire abdomen began to ache.
“Come here, come here.” Zhen Wenjun called her repeatedly, and Ah Xi could only comply. As she reached out to take the grilled fish, Zhen Wenjun unexpectedly slapped the Ten Thousand Way Compass into her palm.
“โฆAre you being funny?” Ah Xi was fuming.
“It actually fell into the sea with Qi En, and if I hadn’t desperately fished it out, we would truly be lost at sea!”
Ah Xi shook the compass, examining it right-side-up and upside-down, then asked Zhen Wenjun: “Do you know how to use it?”
Zhen Wenjun shook her head.
“Perfect, we’re still going to be lost at sea.”
Zhen Wenjun: “โฆ”
The precious thing wasn’t the Ten Thousand Way Compass itself, but rather the Country of Flowing Fire descendant who knew how to use it.
Ah Xi and Zhen Wenjun stayed awake all night, continuously manipulating the compass.
The Ten Thousand Way Compass was a palm-sized circular object with a copper body and glass face, allowing one to see its interior through the glass. Inside the compass was a collection of fine white sand distributed across the bottom surface, which would shift and redistribute with each turn of the compass. Beneath the white sand was a series of concentric rings of strange symbols that appeared to be writing.
Ah Xi said she once had a feng shui compass, and these fine sands should be the celestial pool needle, while the symbols were probably similar to the geomantic text on the inner plate of a feng shui compass. If someone could understand Country of Flowing Fire writing, they might gain some insight. But now the biggest problem was that the only Country of Flowing Fire descendant was dead, and no one could use this worthless thing.
Ah Xi lay on the table dejected like a corpse, while Zhen Wenjun continued manipulating it.
“It’s useless, only people from Country of Flowing Fire can use it.” Ah Xi’s voice seemed to rise from underground (“ๅพๅฐๅบๅๅบไพ” – metaphor for muffled, lifeless speech). “We’re now just a grain in the vast sea, unable to see the channel ahead or the path behindโฆ The provisions in the hold could have lasted forty days, but with over two hundred dead, we can last longer now. Heh, we’ll probably end up killing each other, resorting to cannibalism.”
While Ah Xi kept throwing out horrifying scenarios, Zhen Wenjun completely ignored her, continuing to manipulate the compass, even taking out a pen and tree leaves to write down all the symbols from the compass.
“Youโฆ could it be you know the Country of Flowing Fire language?” Seeing her silent confidence, Ah Xi suddenly felt a glimmer of hope. “Come to think of itโฆ you truly don’t look like someone from Da Yu. Could you also be a descendant of the Country of Flowing Fire?”
Zhen Wenjun still didn’t speak, looking back and forth at the writing on the leaves, finally shaking her head: “No.”
“Then what are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re not a Country of Flowing Fire descendant? Then what ethnicity are you? Why don’t you look like someone from the Central Plains?”
Zhen Wenjun completely ignored Ah Xi’s questions. No matter how Ah Xi persisted, she wouldn’t speak again, calculating her own thoughts.
She hadn’t told Ah Xi the truth – she couldn’t.
What troubled her wasn’t inability to understand the compass, but rather how to explain to Wei Tingxu after figuring it out.
From her first glance at the recovered compass, she had understood the characters corresponding to “East, West, South, North” in Da Yu language.
Each time the compass turned, the white sand would shift position, concentrating in certain areas, seemingly indicating direction. She also understood the text inscribed in the directional markers’ inner ring, roughly indicating four time periods (“ๆ่พฐ” – traditional Chinese time unit). However, while Da Yu divided a day into twelve time periods, the compass divided it into four. The outermost ring marked the cardinal directions, the next ring inward showed time periods, but Zhen Wenjun couldn’t yet understand the meaning of the smallest inner ring, though these characters were familiar – perhaps thorough exploration of her memories could decode them.
This coincidence further confirmed that Mother wasn’t from Da Yu.
The reason she could half-guess, half-understand these characters was because Mother had taught her some simple barbarian tribal languages (“่กๆ่ช่จ” – historical term for non-Han languages).
At the time, Zhen Wenjun found it strange why Mother knew these languages and why she needed to learn them. Mother said learning an extra language would certainly be beneficial – who knew where you might go or what you might encounter in the future?
Mother was quite farsighted, or perhaps Mother didn’t want Zhen Wenjun to forget her roots. They were from some barbarian tribe, their roots lay in different soil, and written language was the most fundamental connection.
However, Mother taught her too much too quickly, and even with her exceptional memory and comprehension, it was difficult to digest and absorb everything. After so many years, Zhen Wenjun had little impression of these characters she hadn’t paid much attention to, only able to slowly recall based on fragments of memory.
Currently, the compass showed most white sand concentrated in the upper left corner, where the character for “South” was inscribed. Zhen Wenjun guessed this indicated the direction to Country of Flowing Fire, so she had everyone proceed in the direction the compass indicated.
If it were this simple, one wouldn’t need to know Country of Flowing Fire language – couldn’t anyone guess its indication method? What purpose did the two inner rings serve?
Zhen Wenjun hadn’t figured it out yet, but food was becoming scarcer by the day, and followers were falling ill one after another. They needed to quicken their pace to reach land as soon as possible. Better to set out than remain hesitant.
Ah Xi pestered her for days and nights trying to understand the compass’s secrets, not even letting her sleep peacefully, like a vengeful spirit repeating only one phraseโhow did you really figure it out?
Zhen Wenjun claimed she had blindly guessed the outer ring meant “East, South, West, North.” This was how she deceived Ah Xi and explained it to Wei Tingxu. Wei Tingxu neither exposed her lie nor questioned further, but Ah Xi completely disbelieved her.
Zhen Wenjun was truly being annoyed to death, so she simply hid with Wei Tingxu in the cabin, avoiding Ah Xi’s soul-searching interrogation.
Under Zhen Wenjun’s direction, they sailed toward where the compass pointed for forty-two days without seeing any sign of land.
After trying several prescriptions, Zhong Ji’s medicine finally worked for Wei Tingxu, stopping her vomiting, but new troubles emerged.
Food and water were running out. People began to panic and grow restless, questioning whether Zhen Wenjun had found the right direction. Zuo Kunda firmly supported Zhen Wenjun, and verbal arguments with doubters escalated to physical fights. Zhen Wenjun and Xiaohua rushed over to separate the brawlers. Zuo Kunda, his foot injury still unhealed, was no match for these strong soldiers who had long stayed in the imperial city and were unwilling to wade into these troubled waters of the Road to Ten Thousand Directions, now full of complaints.
Protecting the battered Zuo Kunda behind her, Zhen Wenjun asked what caused this. The soldiers openly questioned her decisions, claiming they were going the wrong way and continuing would only lead to death!
Zhen Wenjun laughed after hearing this, shouted “Good!” and drew her sword, pointing it at them:
“Your long-held dissatisfaction is understandable. Since it’s all out in the open today, let’s settle this! Those willing to follow me, stand behind me nowโas long as I have food to eat, you won’t go hungry. If you’re unwilling to follow, that’s simple tooโcome take my sword and kill me now, then you can command this ship!”
Zhen Wenjun pointed at each of the dozen-plus people opposite her: “Who’s first? You? Or you? Or all together?”
Everyone understood that without reaching land, food would only become scarcer, and fewer people would survive. Killing some now would ensure more survivorsโthis was the dissidents’ thinking, and also Zhen Wenjun’s scheme.
Zhen Wenjun’s palm grew hot on the sword hilt, a victorious smile slowly spreading across her lips.
She had long wanted to reduce the burden, but how could she bear to harm those who had faced death with her?
At this critical moment, people had conveniently challenged her. Zhen Wenjun thanked heaven for such favorโthe time for massacre had come!
Xiaohua stood atop the arrow tower studying the crossbow’s mechanism, casting a cool glance downward.
Zhen Wenjun’s martial skills were increasingly refined, cutting down the rebels one by one. By the sixth kill, the remaining rebels finally could not restrain themselves and rushed forward together. Zhen Wenjun advanced rather than retreated, cutting into enemy ranks.
When Wei Tingxu emerged at the commotion, she saw Zhen Wenjun standing amidst a pile of corpses, her sword covered in blood.
Zhen Wenjun sheathed her sword, ordering the bodies to be dragged away and stored, preparing for the worst. If they didn’t reach shore, they might be forced to resort to cannibalism.
“Sorry for disturbing you.” Zhen Wenjun wiped the blood from her face, quickly walking to Wei Tingxu like a child, smiling, “I just heard they caught some noon bamboo fish, it’s especially delicious, both fatty and fresh. We’ll eat this fish tonight.”
Wei Tingxu was almost mesmerized by this Zhen Wenjun who had single-handedly slain twelve people, yet this breathtaking person immediately turned soft as sweet candy when facing her.
Wei Tingxu understood that she loved Zhen Wenjun for her fierceness and unexpected wisdom. From their initial cat-and-mouse game of seduction and secret confrontations, Zhen Wenjun had already outmaneuvered her. If she were to trace when these feelings began, it was from the moment Zhen Wenjun reversed her move in their game.
Perhaps she shouldn’t criticize Zhen Wenjun for being fierce to others yet gentle to her.
Gentleness is love’s instinct.
The ship continued in the direction Zhen Wenjun indicated, another three days passing without sight of the other shore.
Food was almost gone. Zhen Wenjun sliced the last plate of mutton thinly, bringing it to Wei Tingxu’s room, insisting she eat.
“After this meal, you can hold on for three more days. The compass has shown changes; I estimate we’ll reach shore within two days. You must endure until then. So whether you want to eat or not, whether it makes you nauseous or not, you must eat.”
“You’re ordering me?”
“Yes, I’m ordering you.”
Being as perceptive as she was, how could Zhen Wenjun not notice what Wei Tingxu liked and disliked, and what words would make her eyes sparkle differently?
Wei Tingxu moved forward to sit in her embrace and initiated a kiss. Zhen Wenjun, stroking her long hair, slipped something into her body.
Wei Tingxu stopped her movement.
“Reaching shore within two days isn’t certain. We might all die here,” Zhen Wenjun gazed up at her intently, fire burning in her eyes. “Rather than die in pain, better to die in ecstasy. I feared the side effects before and didn’t dare let you try, but now, let’s face death joyfully.”
Zhen Wenjun supported her legs, moving them outward.
“What is that?” Wei Tingxu began feeling warmth in places that rarely had sensation.
“A natural herb, of my own making.”
“Why make such a thing?”
“To bring us joy, to let you know that life can offer not just pain, but various pleasures too. Let’s try it, while we’re still alive.”
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