I checked the instruments next to the rudder, and everything seemed normal. I said, “The ship looks fine; it doesn’t seem like there’s been any accident… Do you think it’s possible the coast guard caught everyone and sent them back?” The fat guy shook his head and said, “That’s not right. If the people left, the ship would definitely have to be towed away. Leaving it here doesn’t make any sense. It absolutely can’t be related to the coast guard. This area is chaotic, with a lot of disordered ships. Let’s check the cargo hold. If everything is gone, then we’ve encountered pirates.”

I knew about the pirate situation; the captain had told me quite a bit on the way here, and I always felt it was a bit unreal. When the fat guy mentioned it, I was somewhat surprised and asked, “This place is said to be not far from the shore, but not exactly far from the open sea either. Can pirates really be this rampant?”

The fat guy laughed at my naivety: “How fresh! Do you really think the People’s Liberation Army is omnipotent? Even tigers can doze off sometimes. Let me tell you, in these waters, there are Vietnamese, Japanese, and Malaysians. On the surface, it doesn’t seem like much, but there are undercurrents everywhere. You have no idea how much drug trafficking, smuggling, and piracy goes on here, and they all have guns. It’s not surprising to see an unmanned ship here.”

We entered the cargo hold, and as soon as we stepped in, a strong smell of tea hit us. The fat guy went in first, and we checked all around. The supplies were all there, arranged just like they were before we set sail. In fact, there was even a cup of tea on the very board we had lain on. I touched it and said, “This is really strange; it’s still warm.”

The fat guy smiled helplessly and said, “We see strange things every day, but today is especially strange. Could it be that the whole crew was taken by ghosts?”

I replied, “Look, this tea has only been sipped a few times, but the cup is covered, which means they left in a hurry but weren’t panicked. Under what circumstances would you leave in a hurry but not be flustered?”

The fat guy shrugged and said he didn’t know. I thought about it for a moment but couldn’t imagine what had happened here. We walked back to the control room, and the fat guy grabbed the radio and shouted for help a few times, but no one responded. At that moment, I noticed a radio set aside and turned it on, just in time to catch a typhoon warning from the Taiwan Fisheries Radio.

When we came up, we could already feel the wind picking up. It was dusk, and we couldn’t see far. The broadcast was filled with terms I didn’t understand, but the last sentence, “Please have all ships at sea return to port for shelter,” was emphasized several times.

The expressions on both our faces darkened. At this time, we shouldn’t have to worry about anything; we could just lie back and let the captain figure it out. But now, with the entire crew gone, it felt like a cruel joke from the heavens.

The fat guy glanced at his watch and said, “It seems staying here isn’t a solution. In this little broken ship, we might end up flying into the sky. I’ll take the ship out; if we hit a typhoon in deep water, we might still be able to ride it out, but here, with all these reefs, if a wave hits, we’ll definitely run aground. You go raise the anchor.”

As he spoke, he lit a cigarette and started fiddling with some instruments, his movements looking somewhat competent. I found it strange and said, “Do you even know how to operate a ship? This isn’t a joke. We four finally made it out, and if you crash us into a reef, we’ll all be fish food.”

The fat guy gave me a grin and said that this was his talent. He claimed that not only could he handle a boat, but if he fiddled with an airplane for a bit, he could also get it flying. I wasn’t sure if he was serious or just joking, but I felt uneasy. The fat guy confidently started the engine and told me that when he was sent to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution, he had been the production team leader of a fishing team, so he knew the basics. He had also observed the driving operations on the way here and had a general idea of these high-tech gadgets. He believed that as long as we didn’t encounter any major storms, getting back would be absolutely fine.

In reality, his so-called production team leader role was just holding a bamboo raft in a mountain stream to catch fish. However, seeing him speak so earnestly, I didn’t think he was messing with me, so I believed him and eagerly went to raise the anchor.

Once the boat was moving, the fat guy told me not to bother him, as we were still in the reef area and he needed to concentrate. I noticed he was sweating and had a serious expression, so I understood he was being serious and went back to the deck.

The mute bottle was massaging A-Ning’s hands to promote her blood circulation. She looked a bit better than when she first got on board, but her complexion was still poor, and her breathing was shallow and unstable. I asked the mute bottle how she was doing, and he nodded, suggesting that the problem shouldn’t be too serious.

I took out some dry rations and shared them with a few people. After going through so much, although we hadn’t escaped danger yet, we were finally back in familiar territory. I relaxed and started to feel sleepy, so I changed into my casual clothes, wrapped myself in a blanket, and dozed off outside the driver’s cabin.

I originally intended to sleep for just a few hours and then check if the fat guy needed a break, but unfortunately, I overslept and woke up the next day, not knowing whether it was morning or afternoon.

I looked at the sea beside me. The waves were high, and I could see a few seabirds flying low. The sky was overcast, with clouds piled up as if it was going to rain. There were no tall buildings blocking the view over the sea, and the dark clouds filled my entire line of sight. Under such a scene, one feels particularly small—the sense of oppression here was incomparable to that in the city.

I glanced at the driver’s cabin; the fat guy was curled up in a corner sleeping, snoring loudly like thunder. The mute bottle was at the helm. I had just woken up and felt that something was off, but I didn’t pay much attention and turned over to catch some more sleep, only to be roused by the fat guy at noon.

“Naïve comrade, it’s time to eat. Get your own chopsticks.”

I opened my eyes to see the fat guy cooking a fish head hot pot, using chopsticks to handle it. The soup had turned milky white, and the heat was just right. The fish looked familiar; it seemed to be the grouper that the captain had caught. I chuckled to myself, knowing that the fat guy had been eyeing this fish for a long time, but the captain had adamantly refused to let him eat it, saying it was meant for sale to a hotel. I didn’t expect it to end up in the fat guy’s hands after all.

The fat guy was busy chopping scallions, adding chili, and preparing the fish. He seemed to be quite experienced. I laughed and said, “Hey, fat guy, you’re quite skilled! Where did you learn this trick?”

The fat guy replied, “When I was sent to the countryside, I had no mother or wife, and I had to do everything myself. Back then, I hunted, fished, and even collected honeycomb in the old mountainous areas. I’ve done all sorts of things. This fish soup is nothing.”

I gave him a thumbs-up. “Fat brother, I rarely admire anyone sincerely, but you’re really impressive. I need to learn from you.”

He wasn’t buying any of it and cursed, “Damn it, stop flattering me. If you want to eat, eat quickly; if not, get lost and don’t spit your saliva everywhere!” Of course, I wouldn’t give up on the food. I quickly picked up my chopsticks and grabbed some meat. In less than twenty minutes, we devoured a 3-pound grouper, to the point where I was almost retching from the fullness.

After eating, the fat guy went to take over the shift for the oil bottle. This ship had its own navigation device, which we didn’t know how to use; otherwise, it would sail itself. The fat guy, having eaten and drunk enough, held onto the wheel with one hand while pulling out his night pearl to look at it, humming a little tune: “The good girl in the bamboo house, shining bright like a night pearl.”

As he hummed, he noticed me sitting there in a daze and handed the pearl to me, saying, “Since you’re just sitting there doing nothing, help me estimate a price and see how much it might fetch.” I took it, weighed it in my hand, and said, “It’s fake; this isn’t a night pearl.”

The fat guy was almost choked with disbelief, staring at me wide-eyed. I hurried to comfort him, “Don’t get excited; even if it’s fake, it’s still valuable. This is fish eye stone. Do you know what ‘fish eye mixed with pearl’ means? That’s what this is. It’s also quite rare; it just depends on whether there’s a buyer. When I saw it earlier, I knew right away. Think about it; a treasure with so many night pearls on it—do you think Wang Canghai is just anyone? It’s impossible! The entire Chinese royal family, after hundreds of years, could only gather a dozen or so.”

Hearing this, the fat guy felt a bit better and cursed, “Damn it, can you not just say half of what you mean? It’s enough to scare someone to death. So, how much do you think this thing is worth?”

I had never dealt with such things before, so I could only estimate how much my few clients might pay. I quoted a few prices, but the fat guy was not satisfied, saying that it was a matter of life and death, and if he didn’t get a good price, he might as well keep it at home as a lamp. I sighed and said, “Okay, I met a big client last time in Jinan. I’ll ask him when I get back. I estimate that trading it for a villa shouldn’t be a problem; you don’t have to worry about it.” The fat guy said, “You better put in some effort; I’m counting on you for this villa. By the way, damn it, if I had known, I should have held off for a few more minutes before knocking one down. Then we could have traded it for a small plane to fly around, just like the American rich, right?”

Seeing him daydreaming up in the sky, I decided not to bother with him. He put the pearl back in his pocket and asked me, “Since you didn’t find your third uncle this time, what are your plans? I think this matter isn’t over yet; you’ll still have to deal with it.”

I had originally planned to go back and turn his room upside down to see what the hell he was up to, but since the fat guy asked, I couldn’t tell him the truth. I smiled helplessly, “What else can I do? I’ll just go back and continue running my shop. I absolutely dare not come down for this fight again; it’s a matter of making money versus risking my life, and that’s not worth it.”

The fat guy laughed heartily and didn’t say anything more.

A few hours later, we arrived at Yongxing Island, where disaster preparedness was underway. There were many fishing boats seeking refuge. We organized our luggage and, taking advantage of the chaos, sneaked off the ship. The fat guy carried A Ning and took her to the military hospital on the island, while we found a guesthouse to stay in. Fishermen usually stayed on their boats for easy communication in case of emergencies, and with the typhoon coming and not many tourists around, the guesthouse was mostly empty.

We stayed on the island until the flights resumed, which was about seven days. During this time, we discussed the underwater tomb more than once and reached quite a few conclusions.

First, we all acknowledged that this is the tomb of Wang Canghai, but we cannot be certain whether the golden body sitting on the stone slab is really him. The corpse has clearly been tampered with; although Wang Canghai was eccentric, he wouldn’t go to such extremes.

Second, the Yunding Tiangong (Cloud Top Palace) is located on Changbai Mountain. As for who is buried inside, we cannot know for sure, but we can infer that it should be a Mongolian, and there is a high possibility that it is a woman of very special status.

Third, the snake-eyed copper fish appeared in both the Lu Wang Palace and the underwater tomb, and the hexagonal copper bell also appeared in these two places. This suggests that there may be some connection between the hexagonal bell and the snake-eyed copper fish. Lu Shang Wang was a tomb raider, while Wang Canghai was an engineer; their only commonality is that they both often needed to dig. Whether they both uncovered something in a certain place remains unknown.

Fourth, it was Men Youping who proposed this idea. He drew a rough sketch for us, outlining our route in the ancient tomb and roughly depicting the structure of the tomb. He pointed to several areas that are located between the main chamber (where we broke in) and the burial chamber below. There should be a few more rooms here. Men Youping estimated that the structure of this burial chamber resembles that of the royal tombs from the Warring States period. Among these suspended rooms, one should be a pit for rare birds and exotic beasts. Those strange things might have come from here.

I broke out in a cold sweat and asked him, “Are you saying that Wang Canghai kept the drought demon and the prohibitory woman as pets? That’s just too outrageous!”

Men Youping nodded and said, “He’s not the first. Several royal tombs from the Shang and Zhou dynasties, including the First Emperor’s tomb, have them. Especially since Wang Canghai has a penchant for this, it’s not surprising that he would do such a thing.”

During my free time, I occasionally took out my laptop and tried to go online to look up information about Wang Canghai, but there was very little available. I only knew that he designed Macau, which was modeled after another city. The next few days were unbearably boring; the wind was so strong that we couldn’t go outside. On the fourth day, the phone line was cut off, and we had no choice but to rely on Fatty to dig up D. Men Youping wasn’t good at this, so he just leaned against the bed all day staring at the ceiling; he could do that for an entire day, and I had no way to deal with him.

I later ignored the white hair on Fatty’s back, and to my surprise, it inexplicably got better. I suspected that my saliva might have worked; it felt strange, but I didn’t want to delve into these matters and eventually forgot about it. At this time, I should have sensed that something was off, but my character was resigned to the situation, just getting by, and I deserved to go through this ordeal.

During these days, I also tried to inquire about Men Youping’s background, but it seemed like he didn’t hear me. His ability to play dumb might even surpass that of A Ning.

On the fifth day, the phone line was restored, and I continued to go online. At that moment, my mind was occupied with thoughts about Zhang Qiling’s background, and suddenly I had an inspiration. Since Zhang Qiling could regain his memories, perhaps others with similar experiences might also have regained theirs. With this thought in mind, I impulsively typed his name into the search bar. To my surprise, I found a multitude of records with the same name. I clicked on a few at random and discovered that none contained useful information.

Realizing this method wasn’t effective, I added my uncle’s name to the search. This time, only one piece of information remained. The title read like a missing person notice.

This discovery was unexpected, and I felt a bit breathless. When I clicked to view it, I found it was the group photo taken at the dock before they set off, which had been scanned and uploaded. Below it were listed all the names of the people in the photo. As I read through, I noticed a final sentence at the end.

This sentence was only a few short words, yet it completely captivated my thoughts.

“The fish is with me.”