Suddenly, cries of alarm rang out from the women aboard.
“What’s wrong with the boatman? He’s crashed into another vessel!”
“How can he steer like this?”
Gu Nian frowned, quickly turning to Qin Fei. “Your Highness, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I’ll go see.” Qin Fei patted her hand and stepped out of the cabin. She saw their small boat had collided with a larger two‑deck vessel, crowded with young ladies.
The boatman bowed hastily. “Your Highness, our boat was sailing properly. That big ship suddenly veered into us.”
Gu Nian emerged as well, her gaze falling on the other vessel. She exclaimed in surprise, “Tan Hua?”
Qin Fei blinked. “Where’s the epiphyllum (tanhua)?”
“Tan Hua is the daughter of Academician Tan of Guanwen Hall,” Gu Nian reminded her. “You saw her at the Gu residence that day—she’s a close friend of the Third Princess.”
At that, Qin Fei recalled the girl in the violet gauze dress.
Er Ya had mentioned that Qin Jin was soon to be betrothed to a Tan daughter. So that must be the young woman standing on the deck.
Qin Fei looked her over. Tan Hua indeed favored purple, dressed once again in violet. She gazed at Qin Fei in astonishment, then bowed.
“Your servant greets the Eighth Princess.”
At the title, all the girls on the big ship followed suit.
Tan Hua explained, “My apologies. We were holding a poetry gathering aboard today. The boatman dozed off and accidentally collided with Your Highness’s vessel. I will see him punished.” Her words made clear she was the hostess of the event.
Qin Fei waved it off. “It was an accident. The boat seems fine. No harm done.”
But Tan Hua pressed further. “Since fate has brought us together, why not join us aboard, Your Highness, you and Miss Gu?”
Qin Fei had no interest in poetry or painting, finding such gatherings dull.
“No need. Enjoy yourselves.”
Tan Hua persisted. “After the collision, your boat may have suffered damage. It’s small and less safe. Please come aboard the larger vessel—it will be steadier.”
Gu Nian considered this. She herself wasn’t worried, but with dusk falling, she feared any damage to the smaller boat might endanger Qin Fei.
“Your Highness, let’s board the larger ship. The boatman can take the small one back for inspection. It’s safer now that night is coming.”
Since Gu Nian insisted, Qin Fei didn’t refuse, and together they boarded the big ship.
Inside, tables were laden with fruits and delicacies—clearly Tan Hua had prepared well for her poetry gathering.
Qin Fei instinctively chose a seat in the far corner. Her reputation was too notorious; better to stay out of the way so the others could enjoy themselves. Sure enough, once she tucked herself aside, laughter and chatter soon filled the cabin again.
“Has His Majesty set the wedding date yet?” one girl asked Tan Hua.
Though seated far off, Qin Fei could still hear. They were gossiping about Tan Hua’s marriage to Qin Jin.
Tan Hua blushed, lowering her head. “Not yet. We await His Majesty’s decree.”
“Then before long, even the Eighth Princess will have to bow to you and call you Sister‑in‑law!” said another girl—Qin Fei recognized her as Pang Xiangsi, who had once spoken up for Qin Xiu at the Gu residence.
Both Pang Xiangsi and Tan Hua were clearly aligned with Qin Xiu…
Qin Fei rubbed her chin, unease stirring. How had she just happened to run into their boat?
“Don’t talk nonsense—the Princess is right there.” Tan Hua lowered her voice, scolding softly. “And besides, the imperial decree hasn’t even been issued. Who knows what the future holds?”
Pang Xiangsi teased, “Oh, stop pretending. Hasn’t the Second Prince already met you privately a few times?”
Tan Hua gasped and quickly covered her friend’s mouth. “Don’t say such things.”
Gu Nian, seated beside Qin Fei, watched the chatter, then turned to her. Qin Fei seemed lost in thought. “Your Highness, what are you thinking?”
Qin Fei blinked back to herself. “Nothing.”
Gu Nian spoke idly, “When I saw the Second Prince at Mingxin Hall before, I thought him immature. I didn’t expect he’d already be preparing for marriage.”
“He has no mind at all,” Qin Fei muttered, rolling her eyes at the mention of him.
“Miss Gu.” At some point, Pang Xiangsi and Tan Hua had approached, smiling as they bowed to Qin Fei. “Eighth Princess, we’re about to hold a poetry contest. Would you care to join?”
The original Qin Fei’s reputation as a fool was infamous. Even an idiot could see they didn’t truly mean to invite her—it was just polite words.
“I’ll pass. I’m fine enjoying the scenery here.”
Pang Xiangsi’s eyes flickered, turning to Gu Nian. “Then perhaps Miss Gu will join us? We’re short one person.”
Qin Fei felt something was off and quickly held Gu Nian back. “With so many of you, how can you be short?”
Tan Hua answered smoothly, “Some of the sisters went off to play leaf cards. We split into groups, so we’re fewer now.”
Gu Nian, unused to refusing others, glanced at Qin Fei. “Your Highness, will you be all right alone?”
Qin Fei wasn’t a child. She worried Tan Hua and her circle might have schemes, but since they were all on the same ship, she could keep watch. Gu Nian wouldn’t come to harm.
“Go ahead. I’ll rest my eyes for a while.”
Relieved, Gu Nian followed them away.
Qin Fei, meanwhile, searched her memory of the original novel. She thought and thought—there hadn’t been any incident on a boat. In the book, the original Qin Fei and Gu Nian were strangers, barely connected. Qin Fei’s actions at the Gu residence had already altered the story’s course. Could today’s events also be shifting because of her?
“…”
She lowered her gaze to the red safety cord on her wrist, pondering. About half an hour passed, and Gu Nian still hadn’t returned. What kind of poetry gathering lasted so long?
Uneasy, Qin Fei rose to leave the cabin—only to hear shrill screams erupting from below deck, piercing the air.
Not good! Her first thought was that something had gone wrong on the ship. She was on the second level, while Gu Nian had been taken to the first. The cries were coming from there. She hurried downstairs.
A crowd of young women were scrambling to leap into the smaller boats prepared alongside the large vessel—likely emergency craft in case of trouble.
What was happening? Why was everyone so desperate to flee?
Qin Fei rushed to the railing. Not far away, another, larger ship was approaching, its deck crowded with men. As it drew closer, she saw clearly—there were twenty or so of them, rough-looking bandits, bearing down with menace, intent on boarding.
The big ship had carried more than thirty girls, but over a dozen had already jumped off. That left barely a dozen still aboard, with only three guards to protect them.
Scanning the deck, Qin Fei realized Pang Xiangsi and Tan Hua were nowhere to be seen. Searching further, she found Gu Nian under a long table, drunk into unconsciousness—tricked, no doubt, by Pang Xiangsi and Tan Hua into drinking far too much.
“Gu Nian. Gu Nian, wake up. Wake up!” She shook her, but the girl’s eyes stayed shut.
Qin Fei grabbed a teapot and poured tea down her throat. Though Gu Nian swallowed plenty, her mind remained hazy. “Your Highness… why are you spinning?” she murmured, frowning, as if three Qin Feis were circling her.
“You’re drunk like this—how can you run?” Qin Fei muttered, glancing back. The bandits had already hooked their grappling irons onto the ship, ready to climb aboard.
There were too many of them. The girls here were pampered, sheltered, utterly defenseless. Qin Fei alone could never hold them off. She scanned the cabin and noticed a bulge beneath the carpet. Pulling it back, she found a ring handle. Tugging hard, she uncovered a small compartment—likely for crew storage. Luckily, Gu Nian was slight.
Qin Fei lifted her and tucked her inside. “Gu Nian, listen carefully. If I don’t come back, don’t lift this board. Wait until I return for you. No matter what happens, don’t come out.”
Still dazed, Gu Nian eventually nodded. Qin Fei replaced the board and smoothed the carpet.
By now, the girls who had escaped were gone in the small boats. Those left behind were crying in panic.
“Ladies!” Qin Fei shouted. Heads turned toward her, wide-eyed. “This ship is big. There are plenty of places to hide. Find somewhere safe and stay hidden.” Her voice steadied them, and they scattered to seek cover.
Qin Fei pulled the three guards aside, whispering instructions. As they took positions, the bandits began clambering aboard. She seized two porcelain vases from the table and crouched behind the cabin door. Three bandits swaggered in, blades in hand. One whistled sharply.
“Come out, all of you! If you come now, I’ll let you have some fun. Keep hiding, and I’ll cut you up for dog meat after I’m done with you!”
*Crash!* *Crash!*
Two vases shattered against skulls. The whistler spun around to see his comrades collapse, only to be dragged off by guards and shoved into the river.
“Damn it—!” he cursed, but a strong arm yanked his collar back. He turned to face a striking young woman, fierce-eyed, wielding a thick wooden club. She smashed it down on his head.
“You damn beast.” He crumpled unconscious, and Qin Fei signaled another guard to toss him overboard.
But more bandits were already swarming up from the other ship.
“Split up,” Qin Fei ordered.
The guards scattered to ambush. Qin Fei herself took a position at the stairway to the second deck. When several bandits climbed up, she struck the lead man hard, sending him tumbling back into the others. As they fell, she grabbed a large vase and smashed it down, knocking them senseless.
A scream rang out from above.
Qin Fei dashed upstairs. There, a young girl in a pale pink dress—barely twelve or thirteen—was pinned against a table by a hulking brute. Terrified, she sobbed as he tore at her clothes, exposing her pale, tender skin. The bandit chuckled lewdly, lowering his face toward her.