Chapter 338: Sending the King

"Swish! Swish! Swish!"

Wild grasses lined the muddy path, newly sprouted, but though they escaped natural disaster, they could not avoid human calamity—snapped and crushed under wooden sticks, they withered into mud, releasing a faint scent of green herbs.

Six little boys ran from east to west, then west to east, wielding tree branches, stirring up clouds of dust.

A group passed by, and Liang Qu casually stopped one.

Seeing a stranger from outside the village blocking the children, a farmer carrying manure on his shoulder stopped, watched for a moment, then quietly left upon noticing Liang Qu's official robes.

"Boy! When someone in your village gets married or fights, who do they turn to? Where does he live?"

The boy swung his stick, stained with grass juice, glancing sideways at a companion hiding behind the wall, saying nothing.

"Hey!"

Liang Qu sat up and reached into his pocket, only to find he had silver, banknotes—but no copper coins.

Chishan ran to a nearby tree, bit off a branch, and lowered it to Liang Qu.

Liang Qu gripped it, unleashed his strength, and the entire branch shattered cleanly, revealing its white wooden core; he rubbed it once with thumb and forefinger, and wood shavings fell away, forming a crude longsword.

Liang Qu waved the wooden sword: "Tell me, and the sword is yours."

"Over there!" The boy pointed without hesitation toward the end of the road, "Second house on the left, its wall is built in steps!"

"Good! Go play."

Liang Qu exchanged a tree fork for the village Elder's position, then led Chishan to the door.

The villagers' gate stood wide open; people came and went freely, with no obstruction to sight.

The large courtyard was filled with old men and women, pasting and gluing paper boats with paste and yellow paper, stacking them layer upon layer like tiered pagodas.

In the center stood a massive paper boat, seven meters long; before Liang Qu could examine it closely, word spread of a noble visitor's arrival—the Elder hurried out from the inner room, leaning on his cane.

"Unaware of your noble arrival, I've failed to greet you properly, my apologies, my apologies! Ah Huang, quickly brew tea!"

"Old man, no need for such formality," Liang Qu stopped the young man beside the Elder, cutting straight to the point, "I'm inspecting the village and heard rumors you're holding a river god sacrifice? True or false?"

The Elder, uneasy, replied: "It's true, but… is there some taboo?"

The old men and women in the courtyard strained their ears.

If the government forbade it, their half-month's labor would be wasted.

Liang Qu shook his head: "Old man, relax—I'm just curious."

The government rarely interfered with folk rituals, unless they resembled the Ghost Mother Cult.

Perhaps because Liang Qu looked kind, the Elder relaxed.

"My lord, ask anything—I'll answer truthfully."

"Could you tell me when the village's ritual will be held?"

"Tonight, after dark. I consulted a fortune-teller—the date is auspicious for launching the boat. Miss it, and you wait until late October, when the floodwaters have receded over a month—too late. So today, everyone's rushing to build the paper boats!"

"Why hold the ritual at night?"

Liang Qu was puzzled—Yixing Town held all rituals at noon.

At night, it's pitch black—who can see anything?

The Elder asked: "Are you from outside?"

"From Pingyang County."

"That explains it! Every year, we send the King's Boat at night—light it on fire, it's magnificent! By day, it's not as impressive."

The Elder explained in detail to Liang Qu.

Ten li differ in customs, a hundred li differ in traditions.

The ritual in Huazhu County differs from that in Pingyang County—or from most three-offering rites—its main form is "Sending the King's Boat."

To honor the river god, villagers build a special King's Boat.

Wealthy villages use cedar wood; poor ones use yellow paper. They invite a shaman to perform a ritual to summon the King onto the boat, then load it with firewood, rice, oil, salt, and daily necessities, and set it ablaze on the water.

Liang Qu stroked his chin: "Sounds like a southern custom? In Huaiyin Prefecture, they mostly offer three sacrifices."

"Your lordship is perceptive," the Elder bowed. "Why this way, I don't know. Perhaps Rong Rong Hansheng next door knows—he's learned.

Your lordship doesn't know: when the flood first came, a giant crab saved people in the neighboring village. Rong Rong Hansheng said it was the Huaijiang River God incarnate, sent to punish the Heishuihe God. He claimed this year's flood would recede faster than ever—and look, he was right!

The idea of jointly holding the King's Boat ritual? That was Rong Rong Hansheng's!"

A giant crab saving people…

Liang Qu fell silent. He suddenly understood where the recent talk of the Huaijiang River God and Heishuihe God came from.

It was him.

The Elder rubbed his hands: "If you're interested in the ritual, shall I take you to meet him?"

Liang Qu snapped out of his thoughts, with no hesitation.

"Fine. Please, Village Chief, lead me to him."

Rong Rong Hansheng had proposed the joint ritual—he clearly led it. Dealing with him directly would be easier than visiting each village one by one.

"No trouble at all—it's just a few li. Ah Huang, bring the cart!"

The Elder had his son bring a wooden cart, mounted the donkey-drawn vehicle, and took Liang Qu to the neighboring Rong Village.

Soon, Liang Qu met Rong Village's Village Chief, Rong Rong Hansheng.

An old man with pure white beard, neatly trimmed, full of vigor.

From afar, Rong Rong Hansheng saw Liang Qu on horseback and felt he recognized him; as Liang Qu drew near, he asked cautiously: "Are you Lord Liang?"

Liang Qu dismounted: "Do you know me, Rong Chief?"

"Lord Liang, you're too busy to remember!" Rong Rong Hansheng beamed. "I organized village boats and followed your fleet! Do you remember?"

"Oh, it's you."

Liang Qu recalled.

He'd traveled, rescued, and merged many local fishing boats along the way.

But there were too many people—he couldn't remember them all.

He remembered Rong Rong Hansheng had been impressive: when the Shaha River gang arrived, he'd already organized villagers to help with disaster relief—very capable.

"Lord Liang? What Lord Liang?"

The village Elder beside him looked utterly confused.

Rong Rong Hansheng whispered: "The Lord Liang who got the Red Dragon Fish!"

The Elder froze, then slapped his thigh: "Oh my! Old man I am blind! It's Lord Liang himself!

No wonder such a majestic horse, such a majestic official! It's Lord Liang himself!

Everyone outside says you're the Pond King reincarnated—so this boat-sending is for you!

What a coincidence!"

So mystical?

Liang Qu remembered the Huazhu County Police Inspector had mentioned it offhand—he hadn't thought it was true. The people truly believed he was the Pond King reborn.

From then on, everything became remarkably smooth.

Rong Rong Hansheng, seeing the "Pond King" was interested, immediately proposed Liang Qu light the fire.

Perfect for Liang Qu.

Fine—Pond King he was.

Liang Qu agreed. Rong Rong Hansheng was overjoyed.

Having Lord Liang light the fire? That would bring honor to every village for miles.

"Lord, come inside—see our Rong Village's great boat!"

Liang Qu, unable to refuse, entered Rong Rong Hansheng's home to see the boat—Rong Village's paper boat was larger than the neighboring Shan Village's, three zhang—ten meters—internally reinforced with thick rattan.

On the deck stood a palace, built with a hip-and-gable roof, composed of one central ridge, four eaves ridges, and four hip ridges, forming a cantilevered wall—common in palaces and temples.

Inside the boat, no statues—only a tablet inscribed with four large characters: "Deputized by Heaven to Patrol." Before the tablet stood an empty table for offerings.

Rong Rong Hansheng explained: "Sending the King's Boat aims for 'national peace, people's prosperity, favorable weather, village safety, flourishing industries, vibrant lives, and thriving commerce.'

The direction the mast falls determines the village's fortune for the year—falling toward the village is great luck; falling toward the Heishuihe is great misfortune."

Liang Qu noted it all, his gaze fixed on the offerings on the empty table.

"Too little time—we can't catch any good water beasts…"

Heishuihe is a river, not a marsh—catching spirits there is harder than catching treasure fish.

In one day, they couldn't possibly produce any decent spirit.

"Maybe we could catch a treasure fish instead?"

The next evening.

Crimson clouds, golden afterglow, smoke curled from chimneys.

Liang Qu brought two treasure fish worth nearly a hundred taels of silver, rode Chishan to Rong Village, and, despite Rong Rong Hansheng's gratitude and protests, placed the fish onto the paper boat.

After dinner, Rong Rong Hansheng's son beat drums and gongs; the village's young men gathered en masse at his door. Once assembled, they lifted the great boat onto the road.

Teams poured from several villages, like streams merging into the sea, forming a vast procession that slowly moved toward the Heishuihe.

The long procession moved with orderly chaos: at the front, drum and music troupes, dragon and lion teams; behind them, the King's Boat and smaller vessels, carried in shifts by young men.

Elderly villagers held thin incense sticks, following the procession devoutly.

Wherever the King's Boat passed, the household would place offerings at their door, symbolizing an invitation for the King to partake.

Having just suffered disaster, most people could offer only a bowl of plain rice—after the ritual, they'd take it home and eat it, no loss.

Half an hour later, the King's Boat reached the riverbank, and the entire shore was drowned in thunderous firecracker blasts.

Drummers and musicians played and sang; three Daoists performed rituals in a circle.

Liang Qu asked Rong Rong Hansheng and learned that the Daoist was not a real Daoist, but a villager temporarily appointed to the role.

Poor places have their own ways of getting by.

With everything ready, the young men carried the boat and pushed it into the river; the large paper vessel drifted slowly, and the townsfolk gradually stepped forward to release small paper boats bearing burning candles.

Amid the expectant gazes of the crowd, Liang Qu stepped into a wooden basin, was helped by the young men to board the King's Boat, and tossed in a torch.

Flames licked at the boat, igniting a soft, glowing orange light that illuminated the riverbank and the river's center.

Layer upon layer of ripples separated into layers of orange light.

The entire river surface bloomed into an endless expanse of orange fire, echoing the stars above.

Inside the King's Boat, the tall mast swayed precariously; the villagers stared intently as it seemed ready to topple toward the water.

A few strands of current quietly rose, nudging the mast's direction, slowly tilting it toward the village.

BOOM!

Countless ashes, carrying sparks, surged into the sky.

Cheers on the shore rose like a tidal wave.

【Sacrifice to Huaijiang: River Favor +0.0177】