A Debt Didn't Die with the Debtor

A drizzle fell like silk, dampening the endless ink-black mountains and shrouding the Meng River in a haze of mist.

The small boat carrying Xiao Zhenye and the others drifted silently downstream, its bow cutting through the calm surface and sending out ripples.

A Mei nervously hugged the jar of pickled vegetables, afraid that one careless move might send it plunging into the water.

At the stern, Zhou Shang rowed at an unhurried pace. He seemed casual, but his strokes were steady, keeping the boat at just the right speed.

Zhao Qingming sat in the boat with his eyes half closed, apparently resting, but his senses were fully alert as he kept watch on their surroundings.

Xiao Zhenye sat alone at the bow with his back to the others, while Li Qing sat at the stern.

Just then, a faint disturbance in the water came from ahead and to their side.

A dense stretch of reeds on the right suddenly parted, and a smaller, lower boat glided out. It stopped squarely upstream from Xiao Zhenye's boat, at a distance that was neither too close nor too far—close enough to call out, but far enough to stay on guard.

An old man stood aboard. He had a kindly face and wore the coarse homespun jacket common in these parts.

He called out to Xiao Zhenye and the others in a thick local accent, rattling off a long line:

"Hey! Is the river calm for sailing? Is your bow steady?"

His loud voice rang especially clearly across the quiet, misty river.

Zhou Shang's hands paused slightly on the oars. He wasn't startled; instead, he grinned, a look of nostalgia spreading across his face.

He turned toward Zhao Qingming, sitting serenely in the cabin, Li Qing, who was peering out, and Xiao Zhenye,