The deck, after years of corrosion from seawater, could no longer bear weight. As my eighty-kilogram body pressed down, it creaked ominously, as if it were about to break. However, I couldn’t think about that; I hurried to see how the woman was doing.

Half of her body was already being dragged into the dark ship’s hold. I panicked when I saw this. I had no lighting equipment on me and no sharp tools in hand. If I got dragged in, my survival would be uncertain. I rolled over, grabbed her leg, and pulled with all my might, but she remained completely still. She was wearing a tight-fitting diving suit, which had no place to grab onto and was slippery from the seawater, so I could only exert about eighty percent of my strength.

Seeing that this was going nowhere, I realized the woman was doomed. In a moment of desperation, I lunged onto her, wrapping my arms around her waist. Together, our weight added up to at least over one hundred thirty kilograms. I thought about how to pull us both up with my spindly arms.

Unexpectedly, the deck had reached its limit. As soon as I pressed down, there was a loud crack, and the whole thing collapsed. Within seconds, I fell into the ship’s hold along with a large amount of decaying, damp wood. Fortunately, the bottom of the ship was still sturdy; otherwise, we would have fallen straight into the sea.

I landed hard and sat up, feeling a bit dazed. I couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly; just a moment ago, I was desperately trying to avoid falling into the hold, and now I had fallen in so easily. At that moment, I heard the woman below me yell, “Get off, you’re crushing me!”

I realized I was sitting on her backside and quickly moved aside. I thought to myself how ironic it was: in the idol dramas I used to watch, it was always the woman sitting on the man, and now the roles had reversed. The woman struggled to prop herself up, and I noticed the hands on her shoulders were gone. I was startled and quickly asked, “Where did those ghostly hands go?”

She touched her shoulder and exclaimed, “I don’t know! Ever since I fell onto this ship, I’ve been in a daze, and I don’t know when they disappeared. Didn’t you see them?”

I shook my head. “It was too chaotic when we fell; I didn’t pay attention. But those hands were strong enough to drag a living person, so they definitely weren’t an illusion. They couldn’t just vanish into thin air; they must have been knocked off when we fell. Check to see if they’re under you.”

As soon as I said that, the woman’s face turned pale with fear, and she quickly lifted her backside to look. Unfortunately, there was nothing but wood beneath her. I said, “Maybe they got pulled off when you fell. They were still gripping the steps to the hold, and when you suddenly dropped down, they didn’t have time to let go. They might still be up there.”

She nodded, finding this reasoning plausible, and said, “I wonder what their intention was in dragging me over. I think I need to be more careful.”

We both scanned our surroundings. The deck had a large hole, allowing some light to filter in. The inner walls of the hold were covered in thick white marine rust, almost burying everything inside. As we peeled back some of the layers, we could see various items typically used for navigation, but they were mostly rotted down to mere shapes.

Based on the scale and structure of this ship’s hold, it should be a medium-sized fishing boat from the 1970s or 1980s, with an iron hull and a spacious hold. The interior is divided by wooden boards, likely separating the crew’s lounge, the captain’s cabin, and the cargo hold. We are currently in the cargo hold, but judging by the things that have been stripped away, this ship definitely did not sink while carrying cargo.

The keel of this ship should not have been completely corroded yet, so it still has some buoyancy; otherwise, in such large waves, it would have been broken apart long ago. The woman shook her head and said, “I actually know quite a bit about ships, but the condition of this one is just too unreasonable—such thick marine rust should mean it has been at the bottom of the sea for at least a decade or more.”

I asked, “Is it possible that a big storm brought it up from the seabed?” She replied, “The chances of that are very slim. A shipwreck that has been submerged for decades should be deeply buried in the seabed. Even if you used a crane to lift it, it would be very difficult, and its hull is quite fragile; if you’re not careful, it could easily fall apart.”

What she said made sense to me, but I still couldn’t figure out one thing: since the ship sank in the first place, how could it still be floating now? Even if someone had salvaged it, there would certainly still be holes from the time it encountered danger. Could those holes really have sealed themselves up?

I looked around but couldn’t make out anything useful. Those two hands had also vanished, and I felt a little more at ease. I patted the wooden planks on my body, stood up, and signaled for the woman to walk deeper into the hold. The two compartments were separated by wooden boards, which were now basically rotting and full of holes. I thought about kicking the boards down directly, but the woman stopped me, saying, “There’s a deck attached to that wooden board. If you push too hard, the whole deck might come down.”

I thought to myself, if the whole deck did fall, it would let in some light, and I wouldn’t feel so anxious. Having had the experience at the Royal Palace of Lu, I had gained a deeper understanding of many things, especially after several close calls with death, which had greatly improved my adaptability. So, even though I was still very tense on this ghost ship, I wasn’t in a state where my mind was too frightened to think.

There was a proper door installed on the wooden partition. I didn’t know whether to push or pull, so I tried pulling first, and the handle came off along with half of the door panel. I looked at the woman and said, “Isn’t this pretty much the same as tearing off a whole board?” She ignored me and glanced into the dark doorway. She seemed quite brave, but after what had just happened, I figured she wouldn’t dare to rush in. I said to her, “The light is too dim inside. If you want to go in, it’s better to cut a skylight in the deck to let in some light, to avoid being surprised by something once we’re inside.”

I knew that this suggestion would definitely be useful. Sure enough, she hesitated, and I secretly smiled. I stepped forward and pried a few times, almost pulling down the entire board. Inside the compartment, there was a large iron bed frame, which was still intact, but the mattress had completely rotted away. It seemed to be where the crew members stayed. In the corner of this compartment, I saw an iron cabinet that was still closed tightly. I walked over and gave it a tug; it felt relatively loose.

It is difficult to find written records on such ships. Nowadays, the captain has to write a navigation log every day, and back then, there were not many people who could read. So I didn’t expect to find anything useful. When I opened that iron cabinet, I was taken aback to find an old waterproof bag inside. I opened the bag, and a nearly falling-apart notebook tumbled out. Upon looking at it, I saw a few words written on the cover: “Archaeological Records of Xisha Bowl Reef.” I flipped open the title page, where there were elegantly written words: “July 1984, gifted by Wu Sanxing to Chen Wenjin.”