Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 37

Anyone who dared to sail the open sea knew the water as well as they knew the lines on their own palms. Having grown up in Yangzhou, Qian Tong had learned to swim at a very young age.

Tonight, the tea aboard her ship had to cross the strait and reach the Park family’s hands. She only needed to stall the government pursuers for half the time it took an incense stick to burn—then they would be in the clear. As for how she would explain things to the man she had just dragged into the sea with her… she could think about that later.

The moment she jumped, she struck out toward the small boat waiting nearby.

Ayin and Fuyin had understood her command perfectly. The instant Qian Tong leapt into the water with her captive, the two opened fire, their cannons blazing toward the Lu family’s cargo ship.

The explosions overhead thundered through the night, lighting up the dark sea.

There was no wind tonight; the water was eerily calm. She swam fast and soon reached the small boat. Grabbing the edge with both hands, she strained to haul herself aboard.

Her brocade dress, heavy with seawater, clung to her like lead. Every drop added to her weight. One leg was up on the gunwale, the other still submerged—just as she was about to climb in, a hand suddenly shot out from behind her, clamping tightly around her ankle.

She hadn’t been prepared for that. The force yanked her backward, nearly throwing her into the sea. She clutched the boat’s edge in panic and turned to see who had grabbed her.

The masked figure of the Heir, Song Yunzhi, had somehow caught up to her. His pale fingers wrapped around her ankle. Both of them were drenched, water streaming from their clothes and hair. His dark strands hung over a face too striking for this world, and behind him the flames from the burning ship painted the waves red. In that moment, he looked like a deadly siren risen from the depths.

She could feel the hunger in him—the kind of man who might devour her whole.

She had swum too far, and her strength was spent. Fighting him now would be useless anyway. So she raised her hands in surrender. “My lord, don’t pull! I’ll fall back in—come up instead, I’ll help you…”

Whatever trust he’d once had in her was long gone.

Did she really think he would still believe her lies? Song Yunzhi didn’t need her help. He could climb aboard on his own, seize her, and drag her back to the provincial office for questioning.

He held her ankle tight with one hand and reached for the edge of the boat with the other.

But getting out of the sea was far harder than jumping in. When he heaved himself upward, seawater streamed off his body, weighing him down and slowing his movement.

Qian Tong seized that moment. She kicked hard at the hand gripping her foot, trying to knock him back into the water. But Song Yunzhi had anticipated her move—he tightened his grip instead. The sudden force sent both of them plunging under. She had no choice but to grab for the boat again, straining with all her might.

Using his extraordinary strength, Song Yunzhi swung himself up first and hauled her aboard with him—only to pin her beneath him the moment they hit the deck.

They were both soaked to the bone, their clothes plastered to their bodies, their hair dripping. All the elegance they once carried was gone; they looked like two fugitives tangled in the dim, rocking hull.

Song Yunzhi had been deceived by her too many times—so many that he had begun to doubt his own judgment.

It was as though she had bewitched him. The second he loosened his guard, she vanished. So this time, once he had her, he didn’t dare relax even for a breath. He shifted his grip, catching her wrists instead of her ankle.

He pressed both her hands down against the planks, one knee braced up, the other locking her lower body in place—the perfect posture for restraining a criminal.

Exhausted from struggling, Qian Tong lay still beneath him, forced to meet his furious, bloodshot gaze. She tried for calm, even a hint of irony in her tone. “My lord, I’m a woman. Isn’t this position a bit… improper?”

Blinded by anger and determination, Song Yunzhi hadn’t considered the impropriety until she spoke.

Then he looked down. Her soaked clothing clung tightly to her body, outlining her soft curves. Each breath she drew made her chest rise and fall against him.

His ears burned crimson.

The lessons of propriety he’d been taught his whole life screamed that this was wrong—that he should let her go. But reason warned him otherwise: this woman was dangerous. He couldn’t afford to trust her again.

A criminal was a criminal, man or woman.

He hardened his resolve, tightening his grip even more as he glared down at her. “What did you just call me?”

“I misspoke,” Qian Tong said quickly, realizing she’d gone too far. “My husband’s given name sounds a little like yours, my lord. I misspoke, that’s all. It was rude of me. I beg your pardon…”

Still, the excuses flowed as smoothly as ever.

Song Yunzhi wasn’t interested in her stories anymore. “When did you recognize me?” he demanded.

His strength made her wince. Afraid he’d break her wrist, she compromised. “If you loosen your grip a little, I’ll tell you.”

He didn’t budge. “Talk.”

Having no choice, she said, “Take a good look, my lord. Aren’t our robes cut from the same bolt of cloth?”

He frowned and glanced down. Before coming, he’d changed into a dark robe more suitable for moving at night. The problem was, that robe had been made for him by her. And now, by sheer coincidence—or perhaps not—she was wearing one of identical material and color.

It was the same fabric.

Her explanation made sense, but his instincts screamed otherwise.

He thought back to her confident smile on the deck earlier—the one that told him she already knew. She was far too sharp to risk everything on a mere hunch over matching cloth.

When she’d called him by his childhood name “Yunzhi,” she’d known exactly who he was.

He stared at her, voice hoarse with frustration. “Can you not say a single honest word?”

Before he could press her further, she interrupted. “Someone’s calling you.”

She nodded toward the distant Lu family ship. “You should go back, my lord—don’t keep them worrying.”

He didn’t need her concern. She should have been worrying about herself.

But her words did snap him back from the edge of rage. Turning, he saw that the Qian family ship had already pulled more than ten miles ahead of the Lu vessel.

Lu Daozhong had never expected the seventh Miss Qian to be this audacious—to openly attack an official ship. He hadn’t prepared for it at all.

After pushing Song Yunzhi into the sea, her guards had unleashed a barrage of fire-bombs, forcing the Lu ship back before anyone could dive in after him.

“That foolish woman!” Lu Daozhong cried. “Does she want to drag her whole family down with her?”

But the explosions drowned out his protests.

Two imperial guards dove into the sea in search of the Heir, leaving the others behind. When they asked where the ammunition was stored, Lu Daozhong’s face twitched. He would have liked to find some, but he wasn’t that stupid.

To harbor weapons was a capital crime. Even if he had any, he could never admit it.

“Sirs, the Lu family does legitimate trade! We’d never store munitions aboard. I don’t know where the Qian family got those fire-bombs, but to attack the Heir—such treachery deserves death!”

Without those bombs, the Lu ship was powerless, reduced to dodging fire.

The Qian family vessel surged ahead, leaving the burning wreckage far behind. The moonlight shimmered over the ruined waves—of the Heir, there was no sign.

To Lu Daozhong and the guards, the Heir’s life mattered far more than any ship.

They shouted into the night, “My lord! Lord Song!”

Their voices carried faintly over the waves. Song Yunzhi looked back once—and in that instant, the witch beneath him seized her chance.

She twisted free, pulling a small blade from somewhere on her soaked robes and slicing at the thick rope that tethered their skiff to the main cargo ship.

She knew she couldn’t escape him entirely, but she could at least sever their link.

Realizing what she meant to do, Song Yunzhi’s fury boiled over. His eyes burned red as he lunged to stop her. Qian Tong kicked out in reflex, but her strength was no match for his. In moments, he had her pinned once again.

The rope was only half cut. Breathless, Qian Tong panted beneath him. “Enough—I’m done fighting! You’re going to kill me at this rate. Let go, I promise I won’t move again.”

Her words made his jaw tighten. He despised her cunning, her relentless deceit, yet a strange exhaustion settled in his chest.

“What do you want?” he demanded harshly.

“I want you to stop crushing me,” she gasped, struggling to breathe. Her wrists throbbed in his grip, the skin bruised and mottled. Tears shimmered in her eyes—not entirely fake. “Just a little lighter, please. I’ll answer whatever you ask.”

He turned his head, saw the marks his hands had left, and finally loosened his hold—just a fraction. Instead, he gripped her shoulders, still keeping her trapped beneath him. Even as his face flushed, he refused to move away.

Qian Tong wisely stayed still, rubbing her aching wrists, feeling the blood begin to flow again.

At last, he asked the question that mattered most. “What’s on that ship?”

“Don’t you already know?” she replied, flexing her fingers.

His tone went cold. “I want to hear it from you.”

“Tea,” she said simply.

He’d chased her through the night, nearly drowned because of her, watched her attack imperial ships—just to smuggle tea? Even if he’d suspected as much, hearing it aloud made something inside him go numb. The cold of the sea finally seeped into his chest.

Expressionless, he continued the interrogation. “And where are you taking it?”

“To the Park family,” she answered, blinking up at him. “They offered a good price, so I sold it to them. What’s the problem? I bought the tea fairly from Young Master Duan—you know that. I’m just reselling it to the next buyer, that’s all.”

That’s all.

But the law of Great Yu was clear—no one could privately traffic tea, and none could cross the strait with it.

Was she truly ignorant, or pretending? His eyes darkened. “Do you even know where the Park family sends that tea?”

“No idea,” she said, almost cheerfully. “That’s why I was going to follow along and see for myself. But then you came chasing after me, shooting arrows, searching my ship…”

Just short of catching her red-handed, and she still dared argue.

Song Yunzhi realized he’d never win an argument with her. Better to capture her first—then she could talk all she wanted in chains.

Wherever she went tonight, he would follow.

A deep, resonant horn echoed across the sea. Ahead, the Qian ship had crossed the strait line at last. From the distance came the shouts of her crew—

“The Park family’s ship has arrived!”

“Young Master Park!”