He spoke in a voice that was almost a whisper, not deliberately raising his volume at all, yet that voice somehow traveled from the tall building, through the noisy crowd, and landed precisely in the girl's ears. The girl in purple drooped her head in dejection, not daring to act up in front of her master anymore. She took one last look at the crowd, then turned and went upstairs.

Samuel Carter staggered along, hugging his wine jug, drinking as he walked. There was plenty of water in Jiangnan; he passed by small bridges and flowing streams, glanced at his own reflection in the water, and even felt that his current appearance was a bit of a disgrace to this place. Figuring that no inn would be willing to let him stay, he walked along the river out of the city. The river was dotted with small fishing boats, ferrying people across.

It was the height of spring, with many travelers about. He wandered around but couldn’t find a free boat. Finally, he spotted an old fisherman’s boat docked by the shore and walked over.

The old boatman’s black-awning boat was parked to the side. While everyone else was busy, for some reason he alone seemed to have nothing to do, lying sprawled out on the bank, napping with a straw hat covering his face, only his head of dry white hair showing. Samuel Carter walked over, unhurried, not bothering to wake the old fisherman, just plopping down beside him to wait for him to wake up.

Who would have thought that after a while, the old fisherman couldn’t stay lying down anymore? He yanked the straw hat off his face in a huff, glared at him with deep resentment, and cursed, “Damn it, can’t you see I’m sleeping?”

Samuel Carter didn’t get angry. He said, “Old man, you’ve got business.”

The old fisherman cursed again, “Damn you, is your mouth for breathing or for farting? If you want a ride, can’t you just say so?”

With that, he stood up, twisted his waist a couple of times, patted his butt, and when he saw Samuel Carter still sitting on the ground, he immediately flared up again: “Is your butt glued to the ground?”

Samuel Carter blinked and immediately understood why everyone else was busy ferrying people, but this old man was the only one idle.

He sheepishly stood up and followed behind the old man, listening to his constant stream of foul-mouthed grumbling, and shamelessly asked, “Old man, got anything to eat? Leftovers are fine, just give me a bowl.”

The old fisherman gruffly replied, “You must’ve been a starving ghost in your last life.”

He pulled out a half-eaten biscuit with teeth marks still on it and tossed it over. Samuel Carter didn’t mind at all, following him onto the boat while grinning, catching the biscuit and taking a big bite.

The old fisherman rowed the boat out, glanced at Samuel Carter, and still muttered fiercely, “Damn you.”

3

3. Chapter Three: The Abandoned Temple ...

Samuel Carter didn’t care at all—he’d done all sorts of things seeking death or survival in this world, so now nothing bothered him. The old fisherman’s foul language was just like a side dish to his meal.

The black-awning boat quietly parted the river water. On the far bank, a girl called out softly, “Water caltrops, water caltrops for sale.” It was as if time flowed as slowly as the river. Samuel Carter thought, if he died here, it would be worth it.

When he passed through Penglai, he had visited the legendary immortal mountain. Back then, halfway up the mountain, he’d thought the same thing. But later, he felt he hadn’t really explored the fabled Jiangnan of apricot blossoms and misty rain, which was a pity, so he headed south to Jiangnan. Now, he was struck by the same feeling again. He took a bite of the dry, hard biscuit in his hand, puffed out his cheeks and chewed for a long time before finally swallowing. Shaking his head, he thought, after seeing Jiangnan, he still hadn’t visited the famous mountains—still a pity.

So he let go of the idea of ending his days here.

Suddenly, the old fisherman seemed to choke on his own spit, his cursing stopped. He hunched his back, tilted his head slightly, and stared unblinkingly in one direction.

Samuel Carter was a bit puzzled, so he leaned out from the boat and followed the old man’s gaze.

He saw the old fisherman staring fixedly at two people walking along the riverbank—it was the gray-clad man and the beautiful young woman from the restaurant. Though the old fisherman’s hair was white, his eyes were sharp as lightning. Looking closely, the temples hidden beneath his messy hair were slightly bulging, his hands were large and sinewy. Even without Samuel Carter’s skills, anyone who wasn’t blind could tell this old man was no ordinary person.

For him to be so wary, it was clear that those two strangers were not ordinary people either.

The beautiful young woman, though skipping along, always kept a careful distance of about a zhang behind the man, not daring to overstep.

Samuel Carter glanced at her and immediately knew she was likely a servant or concubine of the gray-clad man. Though the girl was a bit spoiled, her looks were very much to his taste. But since she belonged to someone else, he didn’t stare, withdrawing his gaze and focusing on the dry biscuit in his hand.

That’s the way of the jianghu—wherever you go, there’s trouble. The court is a place for fame and profit; the jianghu is a place for disputes. Some people never understand this, thinking that roaming the world with a sword is something extraordinary, and even mutter about it on their deathbed.

But all this right and wrong—what did it have to do with someone like him, who only needed to feed himself and not worry about anyone else?

The old fisherman fell silent, and Samuel Carter actually felt a bit lonely. So he shouted, “Old man, your biscuit is lacking in flavor. Coarse salt or fine, you should at least add a bit more!”