To Ren Hao Min's intense surprise, after the girl recovered, she stayed.

As she had lain unconscious, the fisherman had imagined many pointlessly romantic scenarios where she stayed. In one the girl would wake and remember nothing, and be forced to rely on him for her livelihood. She would be fearful, and scare easily, but after his gentle and reassuring care she would trust him, and slowly they would come to build a life together.

In another of his imaginings the girl was on the run from a cruel husband. She would beg him for shelter, and he would give it. Often this scenario would end with the husband coming to reclaim the poor girl from the sea. Hao Min would duel him out on the beach, sometimes with fists, or sometimes with the stout bamboo pole he kept to drive off jackals. HaoMin would win the fight, despite the fact he had never won such a fight in his life, and the girl would run to his side and thank him for his defense. Then she would pledge to stay with him forever hence, and so on and so forth.

But he had assumed those imaginings were just that, imaginings, dreams, of something that would never come to pass.

But now, every morning when he woke she was there, asleep in his bed. Unlike when she hand been unconscious, she slept with limbs sprawled out, blanket slicked everywhich way. Once she even fell from the bed.

Hao Min would slip from his hammock, and quietly make his way to the sea in the dawn, all the while wondering, perhaps hoping, or perhaps dreading, if she would be gone when he returned.

But every eve when he came back from the sea, there she was, leaning against a post beneath the eves waiting for him.

"What are we having tonight, fisherman?" she would ask. And Hao Min would tell her what fish he had caught that day.

He took to calling her Xiao Chuan, in his head. Little ship. Because she sailed the way she wanted to.

And before he knew it, she had become a part of his life.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"I've been thinking to sail up to Cha Shou one of these days, to get you some clothes," Hao Min said.

The girl put down her plate, which now held nothing but thin bones and scales, and looked down at the clothes she wore. One of his tunics, long enough to be a skirt on her, belted with a too thick leather belt he had had to drill an extrahole in. Beneath that she wore the smallest pair of leggings he owned, from when he had been a boy.

"Why?" she asked, pulling at the too large tunic and letting it fall back against her chest. "These are fine, plenty comfortable. And I will be leaving soon. I can head to Cha Shou after I leave."

The fisherman's stomach dropped. She had made several mentions of a departure over the past month, and everytime she did he felt bitter disappointment.

But she had not left yet.

The fisherman pondered. "Leave?" he said slowly, around a mouthful of the delicious sea bream he had caught that day. "But you have yet to pay back the damages you caused to my net." He gestured to where the net still hung, a sad unused bundle in the corner.

"Oh my. You would keep me here against my will?" The girl leaned forward, grinning widely, looking excited by the prospect. Her hand found his knee.

Hao Min choked, and pretended it was on a fish bone. After he had cleared his throat he set his plate down, carefully maneuvering his knee from her grasp. "Not at all. You are free to go, once you repair my net, or pay for a new one. I had to cut it apart to get you free from it."

The girl studied his face carefully. "And after that I am free to go?"

He took up his plate once more, fixing his interest on the fish. "Of course."

The girl frowned, tapping a finger to her lip. Her mouth was covered in fish grease, but Hao Min thought it looked lovely all the same. "How much would such a thing cost?"

Hao Min thought of a price, doubled it, and quoted it to her.

The girl whistled. "That much? Just for a net?"

"A good net is a treasure. Mine was from my grandfather. He was-"

"Also a fisherman, I imagine?" the girl said, amused.

"Yes," said Hao Min, taking up his plate once more.

The girl raised her finger to her lip again, as she did when thinking. Then she traced it, dragging her finger tip along the plump pink flesh in a way that made Ren Hao Min choke once more.

The girl smiled, and returned her hand to his knee. "Perhaps there are... other ways I can pay you?" Her hand slid infinitesimally higher.

The fisherman focused on his fish, quickly stuffing remaining sea bream into his mouth. He concentrated all his attention on it, on the delicious texture, the flavor, so he would not imagine the girl's hand sliding higher, and all the things it could do...

Fish finished, he quickly stood. "There is another way to pay. You can repair the net yourself. I will teach you."

Automatically he collected the girl's plate and moved to the trough to wash them.

He did his best not to jump when the girl brushed against his arm as she leaned past him to place her cup into the sink.

"You are either a very good man, or a very foolish one," she said softly, voice close by his ear.

Hao Min swallowed, and it was not till she had left to wash in the stream outside that he finished her thought.

"Or a very patient one."

*~*~*~*~*~*

They left at dawn two days later to sail up to Cha Shou.

It would take half a day there, and half a day back, depending on the winds. Hao Min packed millet cakes, water for three days, a handful of herbs, and his large iron pan.

The fish, of course, they would catch along the way.

The fisherman had traveled to Cha Shou many times before, but for some reason, while preparing for this trip there was a flavor of excitement that was not normally there.

It is because the girl will be going with me?

The girl herself appeared excited as well. He offered a hand to help her onto his boat and she took it, eager. "The wind is from the south. It will not take us much time."

Smiling, Hao Min agreed.

They fished as they went for their breakfast. He gave the girl a rod and line, and she caught twice the amount he did.

"I am better at this than you it seems, fisherman. I hope I did not hurt your pride," the girl gloated, passing him another small silver fish. Hao Min smiled, and congratulated her, and did not tell her he had put the best bait on her hook.

After catching a handful of small smelt and a large bass, Hao Min cooked them all using a small brazier he kept aboard his sand schooner. As soon as the fish turned golden brown and the smell caused their mouths to water, the fisherman extinguished the flames.

"Fire and ships do not mix," he explained.

With a strong tailwind filling the sails they made good time, and soon the familiar white brick and red roofs of the town could be seen, crouched along black cliffs.

Hao Min spoke a familiar poem, well known among fishermen.

"Wind and waves speak little,
And when they do they shout.
After a day at sea,
Any port looks like home."

Beside him he felt rather than saw the girl's eyes narrow. "You said your father was just a fisherman?"

"Yes."

"But you do not talk like a fisherman."

"That is a common poem," Hao Min said. But then he added. "My mother was from a wealthy merchant family. She taught me to read, and to speak."

"I see," said the girl. She did not ask anymore.

*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter: 1370
Total: 8283