Back Just in Time
After Yan led his fleet away from the Fire Creek River Mouth Outpost, they sailed downstream along the Fish River. The sails billowed in the south wind, the oars dipped neatly into the water, and the fleet formed a long line, like a giant bird gliding across the water, speeding up the entire stretch of the river. The trees on both banks had changed from the tender green of early spring to a deeper shade of green, their branches swaying gently in the wind, filtering the sunlight into tiny dappled patterns that were broken and pieced back together by the ripples on the water's surface. Occasionally, a few water birds would skim across the water, their wings flashing in the sunlight before folding back up and disappearing into the Luwei in the distance.
Yan stood at the Chuantou, his fingers resting on the edge of the gunwale, his fingertips against the surface of the wooden planks, gently adjusting his grip with each rocking motion. His gaze was fixed on the river ahead, but a small drum seemed to be gently pounding in his heart, or something was moving back and forth in his chest, making him feel restless and uneasy. He would occasionally glance up at the sun's position, as if calculating how far he was from the Valley River Mouth in his own way. Sometimes he would look down at the water, seeing his reflection shimmering and changing in length with the ripples, then look up again and continue gazing ahead.
Daya emerged from the cabin and stood beside Yan. He held a wooden tablet in his hand, the one he had used to inventory the supplies in the cabin. He first glanced at Yan's profile, noticing that the vertical line between his brows was deeper than when he left, and that his fingers gripping the gunwale were slightly clenched, as if he were using that gesture to steady himself. Daya paused for a moment, then spoke, his voice low but clear. "Boss, there are too many boats in the fleet, and it's moving slowly. My wife is about to give birth, so why don't you take a fast boat and go first? The brothers and I will lead the fleet and slowly return to the Valley River Mouth. Anyway, there's nothing urgent. We can stop and go along the way, transporting supplies back along the way without delay. I don't feel at ease if you stay here with the fleet; it's better to go back first."
Gubang poked his head out of the cabin and chimed in, his voice a bit louder than Daya's. "Yeah, boss, leave this to me. Daya will manage the supplies, and I'll take charge of the fleet. The two of us with the brothers will keep an eye on things; nothing will go wrong. You take a fast boat back first. Don't keep your wife waiting. It's her first time giving birth, and she'll definitely miss you. When my mother gave birth to me, my father was out running around, and by the time he came back, I was already born. My mother still talks about it to this day." As he spoke, he sheathed the short knife at his waist and wiped the sawdust from his hands on his trouser leg, as if using that gesture to push his words out as well.
Yan glanced at Daya, then at Gubang. Both stood beside him, their eyes fixed on his face, waiting for his reply. Daya tucked the wooden tablet into his robes, and Gubang hung up his short sword. Their movements were natural, as if they were doing something they had already discussed. Yan looked back at the fleet. Hundreds of large ships were lined up in a row, their drafts shallow and their speed slow. People were moving about on the decks; some were tidying the mooring lines, others were checking supplies. There was clearly nothing urgent. He paused, tapping his fingers lightly on the gunwale. He tapped lightly, his knuckles making a soft click on the wooden plank, then spoke, his voice carrying a relieved ease after being persuaded, "Alright, I'll go first. The fleet is in your hands. Proceed steadily, don't rush. When you reach the Valley River Mouth, inventory and store the supplies. Repair what needs repairing, mend what needs mending, and return what needs returning. Daya, double-check the distribution of supplies at each outpost along the way; Gubang, keep an eye on the fleet's watch and navigation, make sure nothing goes wrong." He paused, his gaze lingering on each of their faces for a moment, "Thank you for your hard work."
Daya waved his hand, gesturing in front of him. "What's the trouble? It's nothing. Boss, you should hurry up and go, don't delay." Gubang nodded as well, without saying anything, but gestured with his chin toward the dock, indicating that he should hurry up and change boats.
Without further hesitation, Yan turned and walked towards the fast boat with a carrying capacity of 20,000 jin at the back of the fleet. The fast boat was small but very light, with oars shorter than those of the larger boats. The oarsmen were already in position, the oars resting on the gunwale, awaiting the order to depart. Yan jumped aboard, sat down at the stern, and waved to Daya and Gubang. Daya waved back, and Gubang raised his hand in response. The fast boat slowly left the fleet, its oars propelling it swiftly, the Chuantou cutting through the water and creating two white Langhua. It quickly overtook the larger boats ahead, leaving the fleet behind. Yan glanced back and saw the fleet lined up in a long column behind him, the sails gleaming softly in the afternoon light.
The fast boat traveled downstream along the Fish River, heading day and night towards the Valley River Mouth Outpost. They traveled during the day and continued at night. Yan had the oarsmen take turns rowing, each shift rowing for one or two hours before switching shifts. He himself took a shift, sitting in the oarsman's seat and rowing for a while. The Langhua from the oars hitting the water splashed on his arms, cool and refreshing, which actually made him more alert. Two new calluses had formed on his hands, overlapping with the old ones, but he didn't care. A thin mist hung over the river at night. The mist blurred the shadows of the trees on both banks and the distant mountains, with only the lantern at the bow of the Chuantou casting a small, dim yellow light on a short stretch of water ahead. Yan sat at the stern, listening to the sounds of the oars and the water, watching the dim yellow light flicker in the mist. His heart was constantly on edge, never letting up. Sometimes, when he was too sleepy to stay awake, he would lean against the gunwale and doze off for a while. Once, he vaguely heard someone calling "sister-in-law," and he suddenly woke up with a start, realizing he was dreaming, and sat back down.
After several days of sailing, Yan finally arrived at the Valley River Mouth Outpost dock that morning. As the speedboat docked, someone was tidying up the mooring lines. The man was bending over, wrapping a thick rope twice around a wooden stake. Hearing the sound of the oars hitting the shore, he looked up and saw Yan jump off the boat. He paused for a moment, then called out to Yan, "Young Chief is back!" Yan didn't stop. He nodded to the man and strode quickly towards the council hall. His boots pounded on the wooden planks of the dock and then on the dirt road of the camp. He took long, fast strides. People on both sides of the road saw him and greeted him, but he only nodded hastily.
When he pushed open the council chamber door, Jianshi Shi was sitting in the main seat, flipping through wooden tablets. Several tablets were spread out in front of him, one of which depicted a map of the Fish River system. A bone Jianshi lay beside him. Jian Shi looked up when he heard the door open, and seeing that it was Yan, he was startled at first, then slowly relaxed. He put down the wooden tablets, tapped his fingers lightly on the table, and spoke in a low but clear voice, "You're back? Several days earlier than expected. You didn't stop along the way, did you?"
Yan sat down opposite him, nodded, placed the empty wooden tablet in his hand on the corner of the table, pressed his finger on the edge of the tablet before releasing it. "The people of the Willow Vine Tribe have all been taken to the Fire Creek River Mouth Outpost and settled in. Everything is going very smoothly. Jianya will be able to distribute all the people to the main valley and the Fire Creek River Middle Outpost within two days. I see there's nothing to worry about, so I had Daya and Gubang lead the fleet behind. I took a fast boat back first, traveling day and night without stopping, several days faster than the fleet. I only stopped at the stronghold along the way to replenish some water and food before continuing."
After listening, Jianshi nodded, put down the wooden tablet in his hand, and spoke with a calm tone, as if he had just received confirmation. "That's good. Your return is timely. Qingsui had symptoms this morning, and your mother just sent word that she will definitely give birth tonight. Don't worry about the Wolf Tribe for now; go outside and wait, and see if you can help." He paused, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "Your mother said not to rush or panic, just do what you need to do. Childbirth isn't an illness for women; it's a natural process. Just wait outside, call for help if needed, pass things if needed, and don't cause any trouble."
After listening, Yan felt as if a string that had been taut for a long time had been gently plucked in his heart. His fingers paused on the table, pressing against the wood grain with his fingertips before releasing them. He stood up, the chair making a short rustling sound behind him. He nodded to his father, then turned and walked out of the council hall.
The sunlight outside was perfect, warming his shoulders and arms. He paused on the steps, taking a deep breath. The air was damp with the scent of the river and the aroma of cooking fires wafting from the distant kitchen. He stood there for a moment, then strode towards his mother's room on the east side of the council hall. His steps were quicker than usual, but each one firm. When he reached the courtyard gate, he heard soft voices coming from inside—his mother's and the midwife's voices. He didn't go in immediately, but stood at the doorway, wiping the sweat from his palms with his hands on the hem of his robe, then gently knocked twice on the doorframe.
The talking inside stopped, and then Qingye's voice came through. "Come in, the door's open." Yan pushed the door open and saw Qingsui lying on the bed in the inner room, covered with a thin blanket. Her face was pale, fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, her lips were slightly pursed, and her hands gripped the corner of the blanket, her knuckles turning a faint white. Qingye sat on the edge of the bed, holding a damp cloth, wiping the sweat from her forehead. The midwife stood at the foot of the bed, holding a clean linen cloth and a basin of hot water. When Qingsui saw Yan come in, she paused for a moment, then slightly raised the corners of her mouth, as if to tell him she was alright. A little moisture clung to her eyelashes, whether from sweat or tears, it was hard to tell, but her eyes brightened when she saw him.
Yan walked to the bedside and sat down next to Qingye. His gaze lingered on Qingsui's face for a moment, and seeing her pursed lips and the pain she was enduring, he felt a slight clench in his heart. He reached out and took Qingsui's hand, which was clutching the corner of the blanket, in his palm. Her hand was slightly cool, and her fingers gently tightened under his palm, clasping his fingers. Her fingertips exerted a little force, as if using that little bit of support to steady herself. Yan didn't let go, but simply held her hand even tighter. Qingye glanced at the two of them, handed the damp cloth to Yan, and said softly, "Wipe her sweat. I'll go to the stove and heat up some soup." Then she stood up, nodded to the midwife, and the two of them went out of the inner room one after the other, lowering the curtain to leave the two of them with a quiet space.
The room fell silent, save for Qingsui's occasional soft breaths and the crackling of firewood in the stove outside. Yan gently wiped the sweat from Qingsui's forehead with a damp cloth, then turned it over and wiped the sweat from her temples. Qingsui glanced at him, her lips moving as if to say something, but her voice was too soft for him to hear. He leaned closer, pressing his ear to her lips. Qingsui whispered, "It's good that you're back."