Ying hesitated another moment, then handed the oar over to Hok. He hurried beneath the canopy and cleared a space on the floor of the skiff, then lay down.
ShaoShu stepped next to him. “Give me your socks,” he said.
“My socks?” Ying asked.
ShaoShu nodded. “The ones you're wearing right now. Nothing keeps nosy people away from junk piles better than dirty socks. I'll let you borrow mine, too, if you want.”
“Wonderful,” Ying said, making a sour face. He removed his shoes and socks and handed both to ShaoShu.
ShaoShu took only the socks. “Keep your shoes hidden close to you or put them back on,” he said. “They are too big to be Hok's or mine. They will look suspicious on top of the pile.”
Ying smiled. ShaoShu was good.
ShaoShu went to work, grabbing food, rope, the skiff's push pole—anything that wasn't tied down.
In a matter of moments, Ying found himself expertly buried, invisible to the world.
Ying lay there for nearly an hour before he finally heard soldiers asking questions of travelers. They were about to pass through the check station. He felt the skiff bump against a dock, and the pile shifted slightly. Ying noticed a sliver of light near his right eye, and he tilted his head, aligning his eye with it. A small gap had formed in the pile, and Ying could see out of it. He saw that the skiff had been pulled alongside a makeshift dock, and there was a soldier standing on the dock, near the skiff's stern. The soldier did not look happy.
“What are your names?” the soldier asked.
From beneath the pile, Ying heard Hok say, “My name is Ming, and this is my little brother, Ching.”
“Ming and Ching?” the soldier said. “Hmmm. Where are you heading?”
“We are traveling south to the city of Wuxi,” Hok lied. “We would like to cross the famed Yangtze River here, if that is okay with you.”
“You two appear harmless enough,” the soldier said, appearing to relax. “I just need to search your skiff, and you can be on your way.”
“Search the skiff?” Hok said. “Whatever for?”
“Oddly enough, we're looking for a girl whose description vaguely matches you. However, our target has, ah, different teeth and is traveling with a male who is older than she is, not younger. The male is a teenager and his face is carved to resemble a dragon. You haven't seen a young teenage man with a dragon's face, have you?”
“A dragon's face?” Hok replied. “Heavens, no. Dragons scare me.”
“Me too!” ShaoShu squeaked.
Beneath the pile, Ying stifled a laugh.
“This will only take a moment,” the soldier said, and Ying felt the skiff rock as the man climbed aboard. “I just need to poke through that pile under your canopy, and you can be on your way.”
Ying no longer felt like laughing. His blood ran cold.
“Excuse me,” ShaoShu said. “Can I help? When I grow up, I want to be a soldier, just like you.”
The soldier laughed. “You want to be a soldier, huh? Well, sure, you can help. Come on over here.”
Ying frowned. What was ShaoShu up to? He heard ShaoShu say, “Thanks!” and felt a thud as ShaoShu jumped on top of the pile.
“Whoa!” ShaoShu called out, and Ying felt the pile begin to shift. “Help me!” ShaoShu cried. “I'm falling and I can't swim—”
ShaoShu's words were cut short by a loud splash! The gap in the pile near Ying's eye had opened a bit more, and Ying saw ShaoShu flailing in the water a surprising distance from the skiff.
“Somebody, please, help him!” Hok cried, playing along. “I can't swim, either.”
Ying heard the soldier grunt, and the skiff rocked as the man dove into the canal. Ying saw the soldier swim over to ShaoShu, grab him by the collar, and haul him back toward the skiff. The soldier must have been a powerful swimmer because he managed to lift ShaoShu out of the water and drop him into the skiff. The soldier then swam over to the dock and climbed out of the canal. He stood, dripping wet, and scolded ShaoShu.
“You two have no business traveling by boat if you cannot swim!” the soldier said. “Now move along, I've got real work to do.”
Ying heard Hok take hold of the oar, and they pulled quickly away from the dock. He remained hidden until ShaoShu poked his tiny head into the pile nearly an hour later. They were most of the way across the wide Yangtze River by that time.
“Are you okay?” ShaoShu asked. “I hope I didn't hurt you when I jumped onto the pile. It was the only thing I could think of.”
“Hurt me?” Ying said. “I'm fine. That was some fast thinking, ShaoShu. I'm impressed. One question, though—do you really not know how to swim?”