Crossing the Ocean

When fireworks began bursting ashore that night, the ten-thousand-ton cargo ship berthed in the port was ready to set sail. Shipping containers were densely stacked aboard the vessel—shoes, clothing, plastic and rubber goods, roughly things like that, all mundane cargo. On the foredeck, a handful of off-duty veteran crewmen had gathered by the railing to watch the fireworks, smoking and chatting. Setting sail over the New Year was somewhat stifling, but this was their livelihood, and the pay was decent anywhere, so they had long since accepted and grown accustomed to it. In short, so long as the months of their wives' pregnancies back home lined up properly, there was nothing truly unbearable about it. *Creak.* Heavy footfalls suddenly echoed from the shadows. Four stevedores appeared, one at each corner, carrying a rectangular wooden crate as they walked past the crewmen. The wooden crate was not small, looking large enough to hold two grown adults, though compared to the shipping containers, it was naturally pitifully small. The crewmen turned their heads to look and called out in greeting, "Still hauling stuff aboard at this hour?" "Loose freight. A last-minute consignment," a stevedore answered. "Oh? What's inside? Why's it look like a big coffin?" "No idea, didn't ask." The conversation ended there as the stevedores moved away. The crewman who had asked offhandedly had no inkling that he had just skirted the edge of life and death. Of course, the stevedores carrying the crate were equally oblivious; what they were hauling in their hands could practically be considered a Transformer. The kind that, if annoyed, could casually sink a ten-thousand-ton cargo ship. *Bang! Bang!* Flower after flower of fireworks blossomed in the night sky, their brilliant light reflecting across the pitch-black sea. "Hey, speaking of which, did any of you hear about that while back home?" a young crewman asked, passing out cigarettes to open a new topic. "Hear about what?" A veteran crewman took the cigarette without lighting it, tucking it behind his ear. "Alien spaceships, snowy mountain monsters, that sort of thing." "Oh, that. Yeah, heard of it. Rumors are flying everywhere, so I'd reckon everyone has. But look, we still have to head out to sea, and life goes on just the same, doesn't it? New Year's is still New Year's." The veteran crewman looked up at the fireworks in the distant sky as he spoke. In the end, it was still just another New Year's Eve. The others around him chimed in agreement. "Well, I get that. Aliens or no aliens, as long as they're not at war with us, making a living is what matters. I just wanted to ask if you guys actually believe it or not." At this point, the young crewman lowered his voice. "Anyway, I believe it. Last time I was out at sea, I saw one of those things—an alien spaceship, seriously. Went whooshing across the sky..." "Come to think of it, I've seen one too! Looked like a shuttle, right?!" another man chimed in. "Yes, yes, yes! That exact thing—pitch-black. I saw it too!" "Yeah, couldn't get a clear look, wicked fast." A third and fourth person responded with excitement on the spot. With unobstructed views across the open sea and days spent in boredom, nearly half the crewmen had witnessed a Great Spike shuttle-shaped craft with their own eyes, depending on how long they had been sailing. It was just that none of them knew whether the legendary aliens were actually inside. Just as they did not know where those "shuttles" had ultimately gone. While they were discussing this, another group of seven walked past behind them. Heads bowed slightly, they wore dark gray or black trench coats and jackets, hoods pulled up, walking in complete silence. Besides the packs slung across their backs, each held a wooden chest in hand—wooden chests, not suitcases. The boxes varied in length and size; the longest of them had to be over two meters, nearing three. "Who are they?" After the group passed, the young crewman turned to watch, whispering the question. "Probably cargo owners traveling with the ship," the veteran crewman said hesitantly, reaching out to twist the young crewman's head back. "Don't go staring or poking your nose around for no reason. If they could clear customs and board, it's none of our business." In truth, the group's attire and demeanor felt far from ordinary, and the veteran crewman was curious himself. But after drifting at sea for all these years, if he had learned nothing else, he had at least learned when to keep his mouth shut. "This voyage isn't short. Going forward, if they initiate conversation, we respond politely. If they don't want anything to do with us, remember—no one goes bothering them! Got it?!" The veteran crewman added a grave warning. "Got it." "Understood." Amidst the sound of fireworks, the cargo ship steamed out of port. Ahead, it would pass through the Soya Strait, cross the Sea of Okhotsk, and enter the North Pacific Ocean, journeying all the way to the other side of the ocean over twenty-some or thirty days to complete an ordinary, unremarkable voyage. ... In the lower hold, a dedicated section of rooms had been cleared for this journey. Sitting up from the "coffin," the suit of iron armor clicked as its head turned. "Why wasn't it you guys carrying me?" "The stevedores were too quick on the uptake; we couldn't beat them to it," Wen Jifei said with a laugh. "Fine, then." Rusty Sister felt a bit sulky. In truth, she hadn't even filled the whole crate. If those guys were a bit stronger, it wouldn't have taken four of them. Four people was excessive, and calling it a giant coffin was even worse. The sound of fireworks faded from their ears, replaced by the surging of ocean waves. "So we're really out at sea now," Rusty Sister remarked, struck by the thought. "This is my first time taking a ship out to sea... I really want to go up on deck to take a look, Qingzi." "Sure. A bit later, I'll have someone clear an area for us." Han Qingyu stood and tugged at the brim of his hood to cover the scar on his face. On this ship, people from Azure were taking care of all their arrangements. He had never seen the sea like this before either, nor had Wu Xu, Plague Chicken, or He Tangtang. Zhe Qiuhong said she wanted to see it too. Even Zhu Jiaming, who claimed to be seasick, expressed a desire to take a look. Yet they didn't go up on their own first; instead, they stayed in the cabin to keep the New Year's Eve vigil with Rusty Sister out at sea, waiting until past four in the morning. "Master, aren't you coming?" When they rose, Wen Jifei made a point to ask Old Master Jiang Longchi. The old man opened his eyes on the bunk, looked at the crowd by the door, took a moment to recall and confirm, then shook his head. "Not going. Seen enough of it to be sick of it." "Huh? Sick of it?! Aren't you supposed to forget? Then you look once and go, 'Whoa, the sea!' and look again and go, 'Whoa, the sea!'..." He Tangtang questioned skeptically. So, sure enough, someone who had never been slashed by a Super was bold as brass! Han Qingyu, Wen Jifei, and Wu Xu exchanged glances, trembling internally. To their surprise, Jiang Longchi burst out laughing and scolded, "Scram! It's New Year's and you're aching for a beating from a Super combat power, are you?" He Tangtang scrammed. "Then, Master, you won't get lost, will you?" Han Qingyu asked from the doorway. Jiang Longchi turned his head toward him, suddenly seeming to remember clearly. "I told you, this is the sea! The sea..." "I know it's the sea, but with your strength, if you dive in to swim, you'd probably be no different from a torpedo." "...Scram!" Imagining himself as a torpedo, the old man was exasperated into laughter once more. Han Qingyu turned and scrammed as well. Yet before he had taken more than a few steps, Jiang Longchi suddenly called out from behind, "Come back." "What is it?" Han Qingyu turned back and asked. The old man sat up from the bed, unzipped the duffel bag at his side, rummaged through it, and muttered to himself, "Good thing my hand bumped into them. Didn't forget this." He cupped a handful of items out of the bag with both hands. Wrapped in red paper—red envelopes. Yet there was no money inside. Judging by the square shape, they were likely blue crystal source energy blocks. "One for each of you. Great fortune and good luck," the old man said. "Thank you, Master!" "May your fortune be as vast as the Eastern Sea!" "May your longevity match the Southern Mountain!" "Unrivaled under heaven!" "Teach Chen Buer how to spell surrender!" Han Qingyu took one, Wen Jifei took one, Rusty Sister took one... even He Tangtang, who had just scrammed, came back to take one. This New Year, they finally had red envelopes from an elder after all. After handing out the red envelopes, the old man seemed quite cheerful. He lay back down to sleep and said: "Go on. Go look at the sea. When the sun comes up in a bit, it'll be beautiful."