Zhang Haiyan and the bodies of his companions were properly arranged in the cargo hold, and the bodies had undergone preservation treatment. The specifics of what followed are not elaborated on. In short, everything gradually returned to normal.

Zhang Haiyan lived in Steven’s room afterward, and He Jianxi was also arranged to stay in the same room with him. The Plague God seemed to have lost his soul, refusing to eat or drink, staring out at the sea from the window. He Jianxi took care of him all the way, regardless of whether he ate or not. He Jianxi couldn’t quite grasp the Plague God’s happiness, finding it inexplicable, but the pain was simple and worldly.

For some unknown reason, Miss Dong spared them and even treated them with courtesy, but since Zhang Haiyan no longer cared, he was completely unaware of what had happened during that time. The lifeboat where Bai Zhu was located had vanished without a trace; there might still be assassins on the ship, but they should be few in number, as Miss Dong had conducted several rounds of checks. The storm was gradually calming down. The follow-up regarding Hualna and Miss Dong was also beyond knowledge here.

Zhang Haiyan began to eat again when they were close to Xiamen. At this point, he had become emaciated. Every night, he dreamed of the Flowerhead Reef and Zhang Haixia. When he lit a cigarette again, he realized that things were not over.

There were many weapons on the ship used for killing, all military-grade. There were warlords who had excavated plague ships at Flowerhead Reef in the past, and now the plague was raging in Malacca again, with the South An号 hunting down agents from the Nanyang Archives. There must be a mastermind behind it all.

The truth about the plague remained elusive. The Flowerhead Reef case had still not been closed. And Zhang Haixia could not die in vain.

Zhang Haiyan had not eaten for a long time, his throat dry, but he still began to force himself to eat all kinds of food to quickly regain his strength. He tried to communicate with Miss Dong, but she ignored him. When they disembarked in Xiamen, Miss Dong did not appear but had someone deliver him a note. It contained the address of the Dong Mansion and the body of Zhang Haixia.

The note read: “The world is difficult, the rivers and lakes are unseen. If your obsession does not fade and you find it hard to understand, you may come here to discuss it. Remember, it’s best not to meet. There is nothing to say.”

The content of the note was intriguing, but Zhang Haiyan had no time to indulge her in wordplay. He helped himself and Zhang Haixia into military uniforms, dressed neatly, and carried Zhang Haixia’s body as he and He Jianxi disembarked, stepping back onto the land of Xiamen after many years.

“You see, you miscalculated; we came back together,” Zhang Haiyan said to Zhang Haixia.

Once they exited the port, everything had changed. Cars drove down the streets, and horse-drawn carriages and rickshaws were everywhere. The clothing of the people was also quite different from what it had been when he left.

The air in Xiamen was humid and clean, but without the scorching sun of Malacca, it felt refreshing and comfortable. Zhang Haiyan, carrying the body, could not enter the roadside stalls to enjoy the childhood snacks; they exchanged glances at the side of the road. Zhang Haiyan pulled out money from his pocket and counted it out for He Jianxi: “He Jianxi, you were in danger on the barge. I took the liberty to bring you into the sea. What you owe is settled, and any grievances we had are cleared. This money is enough for you to go to San Francisco, find a bigger ship, and we’ll part ways here.”

He Jianxi looked at Zhang Haiyan and the body on his back.

“Since we’ve met, don’t you want me to help you send your friend off?” He Jianxi could somewhat guess what had happened to Zhang Haiyan. When it comes to emotions, people can often untangle many things logically.

“No need,” Zhang Haiyan replied, carrying Zhang Haixia on his back as he walked towards the street that lingered in his memory. He Jianxi stood by the roadside, glancing at the sky over Xiamen and then at the money in his hand, suddenly feeling a bit dazed.

He was supposed to go to San Francisco, but the feeling of being grounded was so nice.

Zhang Haiyan walked on, soon arriving at the old street. The old street remained unchanged; he could vaguely recognize a few neighbors living there.

He reached Zhang Haiqi’s residence, only to find it had turned into a throat lozenge shop. The owner of the shop was someone he didn’t know. Zhang Haiyan approached to ask where the previous tenant had gone, but the owner, seeing him carrying someone with a pale complexion, looked a bit frightened. He said that the place had changed hands several times, and he had no idea where the former landlord had gone after all this time.

Zhang Haiyan knew about the temperament of his dry mother; she would move without notifying anyone, quite typical of her. With a body on his back, he couldn’t go to a store, so he headed to the Nanyang Archives where they had trained back in the day. The archives were located east of the Maritime Office of Nanyang and were supposed to be public rental. Upon arrival, he found it had already turned into a bank named Hailey, likely run by foreigners.

Carrying the body, Zhang Haiyan entered the Maritime Office, placed the body on a waiting bench, and tidied his military uniform. He asked a clerk at the entrance, “Excuse me, where has the Nanyang Archives moved to?”

There were over a dozen clerks, all busy filling out forms at the windows. One of them looked up at him and asked, “What?”

“The Nanyang Archives. I see it’s moved. Where has it gone? I’m stationed overseas and haven’t been back for a long time.”

“Nanyang Archives?” Two clerks exchanged glances and shook their heads. “I’ve never heard of it. This is the Maritime Office of Nanyang.”

“Well, the Nanyang Archives is an institution under the Maritime Office of Nanyang. I’m a colleague of yours, stationed overseas, and the address has changed, so I’m here to ask if you could help me look it up.”

His military uniform was quite formal, and the clerks didn’t dare offend him, so one of them stood up and went upstairs. After a while, the clerk came back down with a stack of documents and said to Zhang Haiyan, “Sir, I asked several senior officials who have been here for over twenty years. They said that since the establishment of the Maritime Office of Nanyang, there has never been any institution called the Nanyang Archives. Are you sure you have the right place?”