Nothing could quench the two boys' desire to find the whale. On that storm-dark sea, their lone skiff drifted …
Nothing could quench the two boys' desire to find the whale.
On that storm-dark sea, their lone skiff drifted like duckweed, until the rain stopped and the waves fell still.
By then they had been adrift for more than ten hours. Their packs were soaked through, their shoes and socks drenched. They had seen storm-tossed sea beasts leaping from the water, seen a long rainbow laid across the horizon, seen schools of fish chasing the swell.
But none of it was the whale.
Then, suddenly, black shapes began drifting down from the north. For a moment Xiao Heyi thought they had found it at last. But when the wreckage drew near, he saw broken lamellar, splintered timber, fallen banners—debris swept all the way out from the mouth of the Hutuo River and carried here by the tide.
Once again, war had broken out in the lands of the Central Plains.
And on one torn banner, a single character still showed clear: Jin.
"Brother Xiao," Lin Xiansheng said, "I know where the whale is now."
"Where?"
"In the Central Plains. In Yanyun. At the northern passes."
Lin Xiansheng spoke as he always did, reaching into the old texts as easily as drawing breath. "The Commentary of Zuo says: In ancient times, when wise kings marched against the defiant, they seized the great threats among them and put them to death as a warning to all." He paused, then said, "There is a whale in the north."
"You mean..." Suddenly, Xiao Heyi felt as though some vast thing had risen above them. It was something neither of them had ever truly seen before—immense, dark, and terrible. A whale, yes, but not one of flesh and blood.
Xiao Heyi thought he finally understood what a whale was.
A thing vast enough to swallow heaven and earth was coming down from the north, swallowing southward, meaning to devour this place as well.
But the great whale that meant to swallow the Central Plains had yet to ask a young man's sword whether it would permit it.
Lin Xiansheng said, "Come. Let's go find the whale."
Xiao Heyi nodded and turned the oar north.
Beneath the skiff, a dark shadow a hundred zhang long passed once under the hull, then vanished without a trace.
Under clouds split open by the breaking light, the two boys lifted their voices and sang together.
The boy at the bow laughed and asked, "Do you know which poem about whales I like best?"
The boy at the stern laughed back. "Of course. Li Taibai. The one you're always quoting—"
Sunlight fell across their faces as the two of them sang aloud:
"The wind howls over the sands by the Xiao and Xiang Rivers; a loyal man grieves in autumn, his tears falling like rain. The bright sun stands at heaven's heart, by its light one may serve a worthy lord.
When a true man burns with anger, a mighty wind begins to rise.
If only I had a sword to lean against the sky, I would cross the sea and cut down the mighty whale!"