Chapter 70: Surging Waves Reef
Lin Qian’s original intention was to find out where this spy went ashore.
So he deliberately sailed to Ma’er Ao, waiting until near dusk to return.
According to Lin Qian’s instructions, after Bai Qing clearly observed that spy’s movements, she was to return on the island to report.
But this person’s abnormal behavior right before her eyes made her want to follow and investigate further.
After some inner struggle, Bai Qing made up her mind and gently sculled, still following along.
Both were sampan small boats, so Bai Qing didn’t dare follow too closely and could only trail far behind at five or six li.
To avoid detection by the boat ahead, Bai Qing simply half-squatted while sculling.
This posture was extremely taxing; after the time it takes for one incense stick to burn, Bai Qing’s hands and legs were sore and numb, but to avoid discovery, she gritted her teeth and persisted.
After half a shichen, she felt her arms heavy as a thousand jun, her legs aching like pinpricks, and her body drenched in sweat.
By now the sky was growing even darker, with most of the sun already sunk into the sea surface.
The boat ahead gradually became indistinct in the darkness.
Bai Qing quickened her sculling and drew a bit closer to the boat ahead.
The sky grew even dimmer as the sun’s last glimmer of afterglow was about to be swallowed by the sea.
If she didn’t turn back now, once the sea was pitch black, there would be no way to return.
They were already an unknown distance from shore; all around was an endless pitch-black sea. Their boats were sampans that couldn’t withstand wind and waves—if a breeze rose at night, they were surely doomed to perish in the sea.
Bai Qing couldn’t help feeling afraid, but having followed this far, she was unwilling to give up now.
Besides, the person on the boat ahead wasn’t a fool; his confident eastward course showed there must be a path ahead.
Lin Qian had previously risked his life to avenge her siblings, and she had always kept this kindness in her heart. Now with a rare chance to repay it, how could she let it pass? She suppressed her inner unease and kept following closely.
Just as the sky was nearly completely dark, the boat ahead suddenly slowed, then inexplicably zigzagged left and right on the sea, as if bewitched.
Bai Qing initially found it baffling, but after careful observation, she realized the path had a pattern, as if dodging something.
She instantly understood: there were reefs underwater here.
These reefs were perfectly positioned to block sampans without breaking the sea surface.
Without someone ahead to lead the way, even Bai Qing, who had rowed boats for half her life, would have crashed right into them.
At that moment, she could only focus her mind and memorize the person’s route.
After zigzagging more than a dozen turns on the sea surface, the person finally cleared the reefs, straightened the boat, and continued east at higher speed, vanishing into the night in the blink of an eye.
Seeing she had lost the person, Bai Qing grew anxious, but she knew crossing the reefs required utmost care and no rushing.
These reefs were sharper than knives; if a boat struck one, it would tear a gash, seawater would flood in, and she would have no chance of survival.
She stowed the scull, leaned over to retrieve an oar from on the ship, and carefully rowed toward the reef area.
By now the sea wind was rising and the waves much larger than during the day; Bai Qing’s sampan bobbed unsteadily.
Bai Qing bent her legs, crouched low, and stood firmly on the sampan, her upper body almost unaffected.
Her eyes fixed on the reef area; she had only half-remembered the person’s route through the reefs and needed to be extra cautious.
Fortunately, the large sea waves occasionally exposed parts of the reefs amid the surging billows, so it wasn’t entirely like groping for stones to cross the river.
Bai Qing’s eyes brightened; seizing the reefs’ momentary exposure, she rowed through, maneuvering a few times to pass several reefs.
Just then another wave surged in, instantly submerging the reefs.
The sampan was lifted high by the wave surge and smashed straight toward an underwater reef.
Bai Qing remembered the reef’s position and, at the instant of impact, thrust the oar against it to right the hull.
It only made a light collision with the reef.
“Thud!”
Bai Qing’s heart leaped to her throat. She checked the ship’s bottom and, finding no leak, breathed a sigh of relief.
Catching the trough between two waves, with moonlight revealing the jagged reefs, Bai Qing timed it right, thrust the oar repeatedly, and wove the small boat like a sea serpent through the reefs, finally clearing the area.
Once through, Bai Qing realized she was soaked through with sweat, her heart pounding nonstop, and her limbs trembling weakly.
Crossing this reef area had taken only a few breaths front to back, yet it was perilously close; had her luck been even slightly worse, she would now be fish food. Having escaped, she couldn’t help feeling after-fear.
The person she had trailed earlier navigated these reefs as casually as strolling home, clearly very familiar with the area.
This must surely be the enemy’s lair.
Thinking this, Bai Qing felt invigorated again. With the person lost anyway, she decided to rest a moment before continuing.
Strangely, the previously turbulent sea surface had now calmed.
Bai Qing looked behind in surprise and saw the sea surface astern still surging with waves, while beyond the reefs they were much smaller.
Watching for a bit, she figured it out: the underwater reefs there formed a raised plateau like an undersea highland, blocking the waves outside to create a natural breakwater.
That made this place even more likely to be Li Kuiqi’s lair.
Bai Qing rallied her spirits and slowly rowed the oar into the darkness.
After rowing on the sea for an unknown time, her sweat had dried, her soaked clothes clung icily to her body, and even her rowing grew stiff.
Unsure if more reefs lay ahead, she avoided the scull and didn’t dare row fast, inching forward bit by bit.
All around was pitch black, visible only a few steps ahead; the ship’s bottom occasionally bumped lightly—reefs or fish, she couldn’t tell—as distant wind and waves moaned like deep sea beasts.
An ordinary person alone here would be brave just to avoid wetting themselves, let alone keep rowing.
Bai Qing, who dived for pearls at sea year-round and was used to such scenes, still had tense muscles and icy limbs.
Then, to her right, a faint light appeared.
Bai Qing looked right and saw the light spot extremely dim, barely visible, yet flickering as if beckoning her over.
She had heard Tanka elders tell of a deep sea giant fish with a ship lantern on its head that, on pitch-black nights, swam to the sea surface to lure ships with its glow. By the time its monstrous face appeared, it was too late—the fish swallowed boat and all, dragging them to the deep sea never to surface.
As a child, Bai Qing’s mother had used the tale to scare her and her brother, warning them against night sailing.
Now the story’s ship lantern was right before her; Bai Qing’s breath caught, she hesitated long, then steeled herself and rowed toward it.
The closer she got to the light spot, the brighter it glowed.
And it gradually spread out, scattered across the sea surface.
Even closer, she heard women’s piercing screams and men’s jeering laughter.
The sounds came intermittently on the wind, indistinct yet chilling.
Using the cover of night, Bai Qing rowed within a dozen zhang and finally saw the full scene from afar.
