“Hmm, Little Mouse?” Tonglong smirked and looked at the young man beside him at the ship's rail— the young man who had caught ShaoShu. “What do you make of the boy's name?”

“It seems fitting to me, considering the manner in which he was found,” the young man replied.

The man was, of course, referring to the cat. Trying his best to look offended, ShaoShu stared at the young man. He appeared to be nearly twenty years old and looked Chinese, but he had pale brown eyes and wore his black hair close cropped. Instead of a typical Chinese robe and pants, he dressed like a Round Eye sailor—long trousers with pockets, buckled shoes, and a billowing shirt that was bound at the wrists. His white cat was at his feet, weaving its way between his ankles.

ShaoShu felt the mouse in his sash pouch begin to squirm, and he turned to Tonglong.

“ShaoShu,” Tonglong said. “Is that your real name?”

“It's the only thing anyone has ever called me,” ShaoShu answered.

“How old are you?”

“I don't know.”

“What do you mean you don't know?”

“I don't have any parents,” ShaoShu replied. “There's never been anyone to tell me how old I am or when my birthday is. I guess I'm about seven years old.”

Tonglong nodded. “You're an orphan?”

“Yes.”

Tonglong pointed to the young man at his side, now leaning against the ship's side rail. “He also has a unique name. He is called Lei, or Thunder. He is the chief gunner of this vessel.”

Unsure of how he should reply, ShaoShu bowed.

Lei nodded.

“When was the last time you ate something, ShaoShu?” Tonglong asked.

ShaoShu suddenly grew nervous. This sounded like a trick question. He'd swiped the bean-paste bun during the night, but he didn't want to confess it. On the other hand, he didn't want to lie to a man like Tonglong. Perhaps Tonglong had even seen the remains of the bun on the treasure pile from when ShaoShu fed the mouse and already knew the answer to his own question.

ShaoShu lowered his eyes. “I stole a bean-paste bun from a soldier on deck last night, sir.”

Tonglong frowned. “You stole something from one of my men? Right here on deck?”

“I am very sorry, sir,” ShaoShu said, looking up. “I know I shouldn't have taken the bun, and I really shouldn't have taken your spyglass. Some times I just can't help myself. Please don't string me up from the rigging for the birds to eat my liver.”

Tonglong rubbed his chin. “Where did you find my spyglass?”

“You left it over there last night,” ShaoShu said, pointing to a small table bolted to the deck at the ship's stern.

“You didn't enter my cabin?” Tonglong asked.

ShaoShu's eyes widened. “Never, sir!”

Tonglong looked at ShaoShu suspiciously. “What are you doing on my ship?”

Despite the chilly breeze on deck, ShaoShu began to sweat. He had been practicing his response in case he got caught. “I needed to … I mean, I wanted to … leave the city. The city of Hangzhou.”

“You're a thief, aren't you, ShaoShu?” Tonglong said.

ShaoShu didn't reply.

“What did you steal in Hangzhou?”

ShaoShu was definitely in over his head now. He hated lying, because he had a difficult time keeping his lies straight. However, there was no way he could tell Tonglong what he was really doing there.

“I stole some trinkets,” ShaoShu lied.

Tonglong said nothing, obviously expecting more information.

ShaoShu sighed. Not wanting to get too deep into the lie, he decided to tell Tonglong a true story that once happened to him in the city of Xuzhou, where he used to live.

“I tried to sell the trinkets to get some money to buy food,” ShaoShu said. “Except the street vendor I tried to sell them to recognized them. They belonged to someone he knew. He grabbed me, locked me in a bamboo fish trap, and went to find the judge. I escaped and wanted to run away. A boat sounded good. Yours was the first one I saw.”

“A fish trap?” Tonglong said. “How did you escape from it?”

ShaoShu bit his lower lip, realizing that he should have picked a different story. He didn't like people knowing about his secret.

“Answer my question,” Tonglong said.

ShaoShu frowned. “I can squeeze through tight spaces.”

“How tight?”

“Really tight.”

“You're a contortionist?”

“I don't know that word. I'm just really flexible.”

“Let me get this straight,” Tonglong said. “You managed to stow away on my ship back in Hangzhou, and you avoided being detected the entire time we loaded? Then you stole my spyglass in plain sight and took a bun from a soldier on deck, all without anyone catching the slightest glimpse of you. You can also squeeze into tight spaces?”




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