Jin’an? Edward Sullivan, suppressing his surprise, glanced at John Foster. Although the previous Edward Sullivan had been a bookish recluse, he still knew that Jin’an Prefecture was the old stronghold of the rebel She family in Dongmin, roughly corresponding to Fuzhou in Fujian Province in Tan Zong’s world. Edward Sullivan wondered if these people had come from Jin’an.

“Miss Su Mei has a fiery temperament; she probably won’t submit easily. If she listens to persuasion, that’s fine, but if she doesn’t and then learns the truth, wouldn’t that ruin Second Young Master’s plans? It’s best if I don’t show myself. Not only me, but none of Second Young Master’s people should appear either. We’ll all go ashore and stay here for now, to avoid any awkward encounters later—both of them have caught Second Young Master’s eye, and we’ll need to trouble Old Harris to take them out to sea and look after them carefully. Second Young Master will stage a heroic rescue with Old Harris at sea.”

The man in front had already called out “Master Du,” and that familiar voice immediately let Edward Sullivan recognize the speaker as the wealthy merchant from Jiangning, Charles Parker. All his previous doubts suddenly made sense: so it was Charles Parker orchestrating things behind the scenes! But who was this Second Young Master from Jin’an? Edward Sullivan thought, if this Second Young Master’s only goal was to abduct someone, he must be truly obsessed with Su Mei, going to such lengths and trouble to kidnap her, even arranging a staged rescue to play the hero!

“If it were me, Old Harris, I wouldn’t bother with all that! Just pull down my pants and thrust it in to make her feel good, and she’ll be obedient from then on! I’ve never found a woman that a cock couldn’t tame… Hahaha…” He burst out in raucous laughter. This was a coarse, boorish voice; Edward Sullivan guessed he was probably the Old Harris mentioned by Charles Parker, the leader of this gang of bandits, though he still had to take orders from Charles Parker and follow the plans of the Second Young Master from Jin’an.

John Foster, sitting across from Edward Sullivan, mouthed silently: “East Sea pirates!”

It was only because the previous Edward Sullivan had been a shut-in scholar, oblivious to the world, that he couldn’t connect Charles Parker, the East Sea pirates, and the Second Young Master from Jin’an. The bandits were moving about right above their heads, and John Foster couldn’t explain in detail the rumors of Charles Parker’s secret collusion with the East Sea pirates and the She family from Jin’an.

“Can the Second Young Master act like us rough men? Honestly, I think the more a woman struggles, the more fun it is.” At this moment, another person on the deck above chimed in, “Old Harris, should we herd those hostages here and lock them up too?”

“Fine. They’re all tender-skinned kids—if we accidentally kill one, that’s a loss of seven or eight hundred taels in ransom… We still have to keep our word about releasing them for money, or else how will we get their families to pay up next time?” said Old Harris.

Edward Sullivan hadn’t expected that these East Sea pirates had already kidnapped hostages elsewhere, planning to extort ransom from their families. He patiently continued hiding with John Foster under the stern rudder, listening as the pirates herded the hostages onto the rear pleasure boat. There was a cacophony of crying, scolding, and shouting, with cries of pain—mostly young boys and teenagers. Then he heard some people moving from the pleasure boat onto the fast paddle boat that Charles Parker was on.

The fast paddle boat carrying Charles Parker didn’t leave immediately, but traveled alongside the pleasure boat and the pirate ship for a while. Even if Edward Sullivan wanted to go ashore, he couldn’t find a good opportunity.

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At dawn, as they reached the mouth of the Baishui River, with the Yangtze River ahead, Charles Parker’s fast paddle boat finally veered off the main channel, heading toward a tributary on the east. At this moment, a thick fog rose at the river mouth, drifting in with the wind, quickly spreading over the water. In the blink of an eye, the distant trees and grass in the morning light were shrouded, and all that could be seen was a blanket of white. Even the red glow of the lantern hanging from the stern mast was blurred.

The fog came at just the right time. Nearly seventy people had raided the boat last night, but all of the so-called Second Young Master’s men had left with Charles Parker on the fast paddle boat. Fewer than thirty pirates remained on the pirate ship and pleasure boat, most of them on the three-masted ship ahead. The pleasure boat was tied behind the sea ship and towed, so no one was needed to row. Judging by the voices ahead, only a few were left on the pleasure boat to keep watch, all gathered at the bow.

Edward Sullivan gripped the broken knife in his mouth and climbed up to the stern along the rudder. The fog on the river grew thicker, hiding most of the boat. He couldn’t see what was happening at the bow, only hearing a few pirates cursing up front, with occasional snores. He couldn’t tell where Su Mei and her maid were being held, but from the low sobbing in the front cabin—probably the parlor—he guessed those were the hostages, though he didn’t know how many there were.

Edward Sullivan tied two belts together, had John Foster fasten it around his waist, and helped him climb aboard as well.

“Let’s not rush to rescue anyone yet. Let’s find something to eat and change into dry clothes first…” Edward Sullivan whispered to John Foster.

It was chilly in September. After soaking in the water all night, they hadn’t felt it due to the tension, but now, exposed to the river wind, they shivered uncontrollably, cold and hungry. John Foster’s injuries were also troublesome and needed to be re-bandaged. Even if everything was ready, and even if John Foster weren’t injured, rescuing two defenseless girls from under the noses of nearly thirty East Sea pirates and getting them ashore would be a daunting task, requiring careful planning.

Edward Sullivan was not someone who blindly played the hero, but if he had a chance to lend a helping hand, he would never shrink away.