Runes • Rifles • Reincarnation

Jin Shu walked along a narrow dirt street, more akin to a well-trodden path than a proper road. As he passed a stack of crates, Yin’er’s tiny nose twitched, and her eyes snapped open. “Fish!” she squeaked, her excitement radiating as she locked her gaze on the crates brimming with fish of various sizes and species.

Jin Shu paused and approached a man stacking the crates. “Sir, could I buy one of these fish?”

The man straightened, giving Jin Shu a once-over before gruffly asking, “Which one?”

“That one!” Yin’er piped up, pointing with a small paw to a fish that resembled an Earth rainbow trout, but with colors so vivid it seemed otherworldly.

The man blinked at the talking creature, his expression briefly stunned. Yet, clearly accustomed to strange occurrences, he quickly refocused on the fish she indicated. “That one’s expensive,” he said.

“It’s just one fish. How expensive could it be? Ten gold?” Jin Shu asked casually.

The man froze, then whipped his head around to stare at Jin Shu, wide-eyed. He looked even more astonished than when Yin’er had spoken. After a moment, he raised three fingers.

“Thirty gold?!” Jin Shu exclaimed.

“No. Three silver,” the man said with an exasperated sigh.

“Oh.” Jin Shu pulled a gold coin from his pouch and offered it. “I only have gold on me.”

The man hesitated, eyeing the coin. “I don’t have change for that.”

“Keep it,” Jin Shu said with a shrug. “Consider it a thank-you for the trouble.”

The man finally accepted the coin, motioning for Jin Shu to take the fish. Yin’er eagerly snatched it up, her joy palpable.

As they turned to leave, the man called after them, “You shouldn’t flaunt your wealth, young man.”

Jin Shu glanced over his shoulder, a faint smile on his lips. “Thank you for the advice, but I’ll be fine. Those who’d rob me for a few gold aren’t strong enough to pose a threat. And anyone who is stronger wouldn’t waste their time on a few coins.”

His tone wasn’t arrogant—just matter-of-fact.

As they walked, Jin Shu took the fish from Yin’er. With a knife in one hand, he expertly opened the fish and removed its bones, discarding them into a corner of the space within his storage earring. He made a mental note to dispose of them later. Once finished, he handed the neatly deboned fish back to Yin’er, who eagerly accepted it.

“Why does it look like you’ve done that before?” Biyu asked, walking beside him. Her gaze was sharp, her curiosity piqued as she observed the deft precision with which he had handled the fish.

“I have,” Jin Shu replied casually.

She tilted her head, clearly intrigued. “You have? When?”

“When I was in…” He began but trailed off, realizing his mistake. He couldn’t very well explain that he’d done this hundreds of times in another world. “Never mind. I haven’t.”

“Huh?” Biyu blinked, her confusion evident.

“I’ve just seen the chefs at home prepare fish before,” Jin Shu said smoothly, trying to brush it off. “I must’ve picked it up from watching them.”

“Whatever you say. Anyway, we’re here.” Biyu pointed to the building at the end of the street. It stood along the riverbank, its weathered exterior blending into the surrounding docks. A wooden sign above the door read: Dock Office.

Crunch!

Yin’er bit into her fish right next to Jin Shu’s ear. He winced and carefully plucked her off his shoulder, setting her down on the wooden porch outside the building. “Eat your fish. We’ll be right back.”

She nodded, barely looking up as she continued devouring the fish.

Inside, Jin Shu let Biyu step ahead to speak with the portly man behind the counter. His face was ruddy, and his fingers were stained from the ink of the records book he was browsing.

“Are there any ships heading to Fa Hou?” Biyu asked.

The man glanced up, his expression dull. “Pirates have been active lately. No commercial vessels are sailing until they find more guards.”

“No ships at all?” she pressed.

“Hmm… one moment.” The man leaned down, rummaging under the counter before pulling out a worn ledger. He flipped through the pages, pausing to run a sticky finger down one of them. “There’s one, but it’s a private vessel. You’d need to speak to the owner directly,” he said, tapping the page. “Oh, and it’s set to sail soon.”

“What does it look like?” Jin Shu interjected, his tone urgent.

The man shrugged, unfazed by Jin Shu’s intensity. “It’s at the end of the docks. Big one—you can’t miss it, if it’s still there.”

Without wasting a moment, Jin Shu and Biyu hurried out the door.

As they exited, Jin Shu scooped Yin’er up. She was still munching on her fish, entirely unbothered by their haste. Together, they rushed down the creaking docks toward the large boat moored at the very end.

They arrived just as a sailor began untying the mooring line.

“Where can we find the owner of this ship?” Jin Shu asked.

The sailor tilted his chin, motioning to a man standing near the aft of the vessel. He was older, likely in his fifties or sixties, dressed in fine silks of blue and silver that shimmered faintly in the sunlight.

“Sir! Could we buy passage on your ship?” Jin Shu called out, his voice carrying over the gentle lapping of the river.

The man, who had been watching their hurried approach, gave them a measured once-over. “And who might you be?” he asked, his tone calm but inquisitive.

“I am Jin Shu of Black Mountain City’s Jin family,” Jin Shu replied confidently, hoping his family name would smooth the way.

The man raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. “And your companion?”

Jin Shu hesitated, his mind racing for an answer that wouldn’t reveal too much. Before he could speak, the younger Jin Shu, buried deep in his soul, blurted out, “She is my wife!”

Jin Shu blinked in shock at the slip, but it was too late to take it back.

Beside him, Biyu stiffened, glancing at him in surprise. Yet, to his relief, she didn’t contradict the statement.

The older man continued to study them, his gaze sharp. For a moment, his ear twitched subtly, as if listening to a sound only he could hear. After a pause, he nodded. “Hm. Yes. Come aboard.”

Jin Shu and Biyu exchanged a brief glance before stepping onto the wooden planks leading to the ship’s deck. Once aboard, they made their way to the aft, where the older man awaited them, his expression unreadable.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but his expression suddenly shifted. Subtle changes played across his face for several seconds before he turned back to Jin Shu, his lips pressed into a thin line. Before anyone could break the silence, loud, hurried footsteps echoed across the deck from behind Jin Shu and Biyu.

Startled, Jin Shu turned toward the source of the noise. An extraordinarily beautiful young girl bounded up the steps, her petite frame exuding an air of elegance. She looked to be about fifteen or sixteen but was small and delicate, dressed in a sparkling, jewel-studded robe that shimmered with each step. Her long hair streamed behind her, adorned with glittering jewelry that caught the evening sunlight. The sun's rays reflecting off the gems created the illusion of a radiant rainbow halo around her.

For a brief moment, Jin Shu felt a flicker of recognition but couldn’t quite place who she was.

When she reached the top of the steps, stopping just a meter away, the girl suddenly leapt toward him with startling speed. “Shu-gege!” she cried, her voice full of excitement.

Jin Shu instinctively tried to sidestep, but his back hit the ship’s railing, leaving him nowhere to go. The girl collided with him head-on, a human-shaped missile covered in hard, sparkling jewels.

“Oof!” The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he tumbled backward onto the wooden deck.

Yin’er leapt off his shoulder mid-fall, clutching her fish protectively in her jaws as she landed gracefully on the deck.

“Shu-gege!” the jewel-covered girl cried again, her voice brimming with joy. She buried her head against his chest, rubbing against him like an affectionate, lonely puppy.

Jin Shu instinctively wanted to push her off, but as he glanced down at her small, delicate frame, he hesitated. What if I hurt her? The thought kept him frozen in place, leaving him stuck and helpless.

With no other options, he turned to Biyu for help, shooting her a pleading look.

Biyu’s eyes narrowed behind her veil, sharp and calculating. Though her face was hidden, the intensity in her gaze spoke volumes. She was upset—he could sense that much—but he had no idea why.

Before he could say anything, she turned away with a sharp “Hmph,” leaving Jin Shu to fend for himself.

Jin Shu stared after Biyu, bewildered by her sudden shift in demeanor. What had upset her so much? He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as the girl clinging to his chest let out another delighted squeal, clearly unbothered by the brewing tension around her.