Across the Timeless Sea

Chapter VII: Regret

What is the price of keeping someone in your heart? It may cost an indefinite amount of your time thinking and dwelling about that person, occupying your mind with no other thoughts but the one in your heart. It may impair your judgment and view on matters, causing you to undertake acts unlike your usual self, or out of the ordinary.

What is the price of putting your trust in someone? Disappointment and betrayal from the person you trust may be an issue too familiar for all that they no longer appear surprising. But to tell others of your trust towards a certain someone may disclose an opportunity for exploitation. And when this happens, you may not necessarily be the only one who suffers in the end.

What was born from the mother sea should belong to the mother sea. For the inhabitants of land, the right to monopolize treasures from the depth was non-existent, but it had always been the nature of humans to crave for everything they were never meant to obtain. The means employed to satiate their yearning were countless in numbers, yet since ancient times, more often than not hard work and persistent effort alone could not suffice. After all, it was something they should not own in the first place. Hence to be shrewd would be the only way, and this path rarely resulted in peace for others involved in the matter.

That night, the full moon shining over the Immortal Sea was tainted with blood.

Hong-er had no idea how long he had passed out. Upon his wake, the adolescent could feel his head pounding and his mind disoriented. It did not immediately come to him, the events that had unfolded prior to the moment he lay sprawled on the planks of the ship's floor, and for a moment he even forgot where he was, if not for the scent of fresh fruits and vegetables wafting in the air of the closed space. The boy let out a groan as he forced his still half-numb limbs to move, pulling his stiff body up so he would be seated on the ground. He shook his head once, then swept his gaze across his surroundings. There was nothing but food stock kept within the room. However, the overwhelming daze lasted only for a brief few seconds. In the next moment, the boy's black left eye dilated and he sprung to his feet at once.

"Gege!!" without thinking, he ran to the door, only to find that it was locked from the outside. Panic overwhelmed his heart and thoughts. What was happening? Why did Ming Yi knock him out? Why was he locked down here? What were they planning?

"It would be better if you don't see what happens tonight" — he recalled the last words he heard before his consciousness faded away back there and an indescribable fear took over his mind. Mustering every bit of strength in his body, Hong-er slammed himself against the wooden door, hoping to break it open. But with his scrawny build, malnourished since a young age that his muscles and bones might not have developed properly, he would sooner break his own arms and shoulders before the door would make so much of a twitch. Hong-er, too, realized that it was futile after bruising his side with only a few tries. With his breath racing, he scanned through the entire room, desperately searching for something he might be able to use.

By chance, in the corner of the room there was a box of cooking utensils left by the ship's cook after their previous dinner. The boy rummaged through it and was able to find a fruit knife among the tools. He ran back to the door, and with a burst of determination born from sheer urgency, he began to stab repeatedly through the woods around the door's lock and handle.

"Gege... Gege... Dianxia...!!"

To some, it might seem like a foolish act but in such a situation, not only one would not be able to think clearly, he wasn't even given much choice he could pick to begin with. The tip of the knife could only make small dents at first, but he kept digging and digging without a moment of rest. His palms soon became red as he held the blade's hilt tightly; veins popping from the back of his hands due to the immense strength he exerted. Bullets of sweat trickled down from his temple. In his entire life, no matter what danger, what injustice, what threat he faced, Hong-er had never felt as terrified as he was now. He prayed and prayed and prayed, for the lock to open as soon as possible, for everything to be fine when he did come out of this accursed storage, and for that person to be safe. He was impatient and the slow progress he was making was almost enough to make him mad. Yet even though his thin shoulders trembled, his hands never once stopped working until he actually made some real damage to the thick wood.