With the boatman’s command, the people around noticeably quickened their pace.
The porters on the dock hastily unloaded the cargo into the hold before stepping back onto the shore.
The officials and traveling merchants who had been strolling on the deck also retreated into the cabins one after another.
In just a moment, the deck, which had been somewhat noisy earlier, quieted down, leaving only a scattering of people.
Shi Yin then realized that there were as many as a dozen households being exiled to Heishan Island alongside them.
Those at the stern of the ship were under the guard of officers, burdened with wooden shackles, while those at the bow were families undergoing voluntary exile.
However, the voluntary exile groups usually consisted of whole, intact families; Shi Yin was the only woman traveling alone with her children.
As soon as the hour of Si arrived, the boatman reappeared atop the helm tower. Holding a bamboo pole, he tapped the hull of the ship:
“Clang—clang—clang—”
“Weigh anchor—”
Upon hearing the order, several deckhands on the ship immediately moved into action.
Chanting a low-pitched cadence in unison, they moved with synchronized steps, coiling the thick hemp ropes, which were as thick as arms, loop by loop onto the deck. Once the anchor broke the surface of the water, they pulled it up in one final burst of effort.
“Clang—clang—clang—”
“Hoist the sails—”
With the anchor raised, it was time to unfurl the sails.
The deckhands turned toward both sides of the mast, gripping the halyards and pulling down with all their might.
“Heave-ho—heave-ho—”
The ropes tightened section by section, and the massive sail slowly expanded and rose along the mast. As the sea breeze rushed into it, it instantly puffed out full and round.
Guided by the push of the gentle sea breeze, the heavy hull shuddered slightly and steadily drifted away from the dock.
Now, they were truly leaving.
Everyone on the deck stood in silence, their eyes fixed on the mainland behind them.
The moving figures on the dock turned from clear to blurry, shrinking into black dots until they finally vanished completely beyond the edge of their vision.
The road ahead was boundless, across ten thousand leagues of open sea; everything was an unpredictable unknown.
The ship sailed smoothly and slowly under a gentle sea breeze. Gradually, many officials and merchants gathered on the deck, looking out into the distance and conversing loudly.
From their conversation, Shi Yin learned that this official vessel was not meant solely to transport exiles to Heishan Island. After dropping them off at Heishan Island along the way, the ship would continue north to Baekje, a vassal state across the sea, for mutual trade.
The ship was loaded with grain, brocade silks, and fine lacquerware—all heavy goods intended for trade—which would then be exchanged for Baekje’s fine horses, timber, spices, and jade.
“Alas, the world grows worse year by year. The cargo holds can’t even be filled, and traveling merchants grow fewer by the day.”
An official stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the receding coastline in the distance, his face filled with worry.
Beside him, a man dressed as a merchant sighed softly and replied, “Chaos reigns across the Central Plains, and grain prices are skyrocketing. Merchants are all hoarding food to protect themselves; who still has the heart to chase profit?”
The official shook his head slowly. “Troubles at home and threats from abroad. Following the War of the Eight Princes, Goguryeo has grown increasingly arrogant. Ever since the two commanderies of Lelang and Daifang fell into their hands, they have been bent on breaking away from the Jin court’s jurisdiction to dominate the eastern seas alone. Now, the northern sea routes are entirely restricted, and official ships can at most reach Baekje before they can travel no further north. Given the current situation, Baekje is isolated and helpless; it likely won’t survive for long either. Within a few years, I fear this eastern maritime trade route will be completely cut off.”
“Sigh—”
The voices of the two gradually faded into the distance.
Shi Yin furrowed her brows in deep thought. It wouldn’t even take a few years. By next year, Goguryeo’s ambitions would be fully revealed, and they would directly block the entire sea route, completely severing communications with the eastern seas.
Then, in just two short years, this land would plunge into a century of chaotic warfare.
Shi Yin looked into the distance and let out a deep sigh—Heishan Island, a place of mixed blessings and misfortune.
At the bow of the ship, three exiled families were gathered together, and every word of that casual conversation had fallen into everyone’s ears.
In an instant, everyone had grasped the stakes involved.
Once the sea route was cut off and official ships stopped sailing, it meant Heishan Island, which relied on exchanging salt for grain, would be cut off from supplies.
Without grain to survive, how could they eke out an existence?
Faces turned pale all at once as despair washed over their hearts like a tide.
Like Shi Yin, they all had relatives who had risked their lives to secure them a path of voluntary exile. Now, trapped between a rock and a hard place, they had no other choice unless…
On the other side of the deck was a prominent family. A dozen or so members of their clan were squeezed into a corner, whispering in hushed tones.
Shi Yin and the family beside her remained silent.
Presumably, that official had deliberately let the information slip to them. After all, it wouldn’t be long before Heishan Island turned into a hellish cage.
“Mother, run.”
Rong’er uttered these three words clearly, causing several families to turn around simultaneously and stare straight at her.
Little did they know, the child’s mind was pure; she simply wanted to run around and play on the open deck.
Shi Yin advised softly, “Go play with your brother, but you must stay close to him. Do not go near the edge of the ship’s rail. Watch your step, and be careful in everything.”
“Got it, Mother.”
Chengzhou replied, and taking his sister’s hand, the two children ran and played at the bow of the ship amidst the sea breeze. Rong’er’s crisp laughter scattered in waves, drifting across the entire vessel.
Everyone quietly watched the playing toddlers, feeling the heavy gloom that had accumulated in their hearts lighten just a bit.
Before long, two young girls surrounded in the middle of the neighboring family also wanted to play together.
After the man of that family nodded slightly, the woman instructed, “Go on, play together, and stay safe.”
The two girls were similar in age to Chengzhou. In an instant, the four children were playing as one, with Rong’er following behind, becoming their little tail.
The dull and oppressive bow of the ship gained a bit of vitality thanks to the lively figures of the children.
Giggling and chasing one another, the children unwittingly ran toward the stern of the ship.
Seeing this, several exiled families imprisoned at the stern glared fiercely and shouted harshly, “Get lost!”
Rong’er was startled and hid behind Chengzhou.
Chengzhou immediately pulled Rong’er back, turning around to return to the bow of the ship without approaching them again.
After playing for a while, the four children returned, dripping with sweat.
“Mother, hungry…” Rong’er clutched her little belly, her small mouth pouting slightly with a aggrieved expression.
They had indeed woken up early in the morning and boarded the ship without even eating breakfast.
After running around like that, it was only natural that her stomach was hungry.
Shi Yin took out a few pieces of coarse, hard nang bread from her bundle. These were made by Mother Shi’s own hands before they left Wei County.
The nang bread was extremely hard, baked dry over charcoal in a fire kiln. Containing no moisture, it could last over a month without spoiling, making it an essential provision for travelers.
She fetched a ceramic bowl, filled it with fresh water, and broke the hard dry bread into small pieces to soak and soften in the water.
Rong’er didn’t like eating bread soaked in cold water.
“Be good, fill your belly first. Once we get off the ship, Mother will make you something delicious.”
Rong’er reluctantly chewed a bite, and remembering the days of bumping on horseback a few days ago where every day was filled with such hard, coarse grains, she instantly lost her appetite and whimpered for a long while.
Shi Yin was in no rush either; she and Chengzhou simply took small bites of the nang bread, filling their own stomachs first.
Sure enough, after a little while, Rong’er could not resist her rumbling stomach in the end and grudgingly ate a few bites anyway.
However, at this moment, waves of fragrance drifted across the deck—it was the smell of cooked wheaten food from a freshly opened pot, mixed with the rich aroma of oil-fried dishes.
“Mother, hungry—” Smelling the aroma, Rong’er began to fuss again.
The scent was enticing, but it was not meant for them; it belonged to the people inside the cabins.
“Rong’er, be good. Once we get off the ship, Mother will make you food even better than this.”
Shi Yin comforted the aggrieved Rong’er, but a sudden burst of sneering came from above her head.
“Pfft.”
Looking toward the sound, there stood a boy around ten years old, likely drawn out by the children’s voices just moments ago.