Red-Haired Xius

Once they boarded the carriage, the group quickly arrived at Vichy Harbor.

The cargo ship Bauhinia from the Prosperous Continent had docked that morning. After a morning of unloading, its hold had already been emptied. It only needed to wait for new cargo to be loaded tomorrow before setting sail again. Moro had brought them aboard a day early as a precaution against trouble before it happened. After all, it only made one trip a year. If they truly missed it, they would not even know who to complain to.

"Once you board, you'd best not wander around or stir up trouble. The Bauhinia's backing is not something we can afford to provoke." Moro led the three toward the Bauhinia, repeating his warnings. "The Bauhinia can break through ice and cross oceans, sailing the danger-ridden Silent Sea. That is no feat an ordinary ship could accomplish. Rumors outside say that the Bauhinia seems to have ties to Sky Mechanical City. If those rumors are true, then let alone me, even a formal wizard would not dare test its edge."

"So remember this: even when dealing with ordinary sailors, you must rein in those narrow-minded noble tempers of yours!" Moro's warning this time was even sterner. During his travels through the Golden Sparrow Empire, he had seen far too many blind and arrogant young nobles. There had been no shortage of those who drew blades at the slightest disagreement. To avoid unnecessary disputes, he emphasized the matter so solemnly.

The three little ones nodded like pecking chickens. Moro was experienced in the ways of the world; naturally, he would not harm them.

While Moro shared his hard-earned experience, Angel carefully examined the Bauhinia before him. The Bauhinia was enormous, though compared to the cargo ships of Earth that his mentor had mentioned, it was probably somewhat smaller. Still, to the inexperienced Angel, the Bauhinia was already the largest means of transport he had ever seen. It was nearly the size of half the castle at Pat Manor, and its steel hull, striped purple and white, looked both elegant and dazzling.

What caught Angel's eye most was the Bauhinia's figurehead: a young woman in gauzy robes, her hands pressed together in prayer. Her soft, flowing hair was scattered with little bauhinia blossoms

. She looked pure yet solemn, beautiful without losing her elegance. One glance was enough to tell that she must have been the work of a master craftsman. Most peculiar of all, a light crimson gemstone was set in the very center of the girl's forehead.

Angel always felt that there was something strange about that gemstone, yet if asked what exactly was strange about it, he could not say.

"Eh, that person over there is... How could it be him?!" Moro suddenly cried out. Angel turned to look and saw Moro's eyes widened round, his face full of shock as he stared toward the ship's exit.

Following Moro's gaze, Angel saw a young man with short red hair stepping down from the Bauhinia, expressionless. He wore a black coat embroidered with golden patterns, a white shirt with black trousers, and brown riding boots.

His red hair was flamboyant, but his features were exceedingly cold and stern. His gaze was indifferent and icy, and his entire body exuded an aura that warned strangers to keep away.

"A cold, abstinent man in uniform?" Angel murmured softly in Chinese.

"Brother Pat, what are you talking about?" At some point, Irene had already come to his side. She was so close that he could even smell the faint fragrance drifting from her long hair.

Angel quietly took a step back. Only after putting some distance between them did he reply, "Nothing. I was just wondering who that person is."

Irene had also noticed Moro's unusual behavior, so she turned and asked him, "Grandpa, who is that person?"

Yet Moro said nothing. Without even looking back, he grabbed them and quickly led them up the boarding ramp. Irene wanted to continue asking, but Moro snapped at her in a low voice, "Shut up!"

Rarely having been scolded so harshly, Irene pouted in grievance. Yet Moro offered no comfort, still striding tirelessly toward the ship. Only Alan trotted forward and gently wiped the tears from the corners of his sister's eyes with his plump little lotus-root hands.

Angel softly comforted Irene, then added, "I believe Mr. Moro must have his reasons for doing this."

Angel himself was full of doubts. He did not know why Moro's face had changed so drastically upon seeing that young man, nor why he had not even dared take another look at him. Could he be Mr. Moro's enemy?

Just as the group stepped onto the cargo ship, the red-haired young man glanced toward the deck in puzzlement.

"What a strange aura. Was it an illusion?"

The red-haired young man did not dwell on it and continued onward. His target this time was someone else; there was no need to waste time on irrelevant matters.

A night passed. The sun rose in the distance, dyeing the horizon with a pool of golden radiance.

Hooooonk—chug chug chug—

The ship's horn sounded as the anchor was raised and the sails unfurled. At the harbor, there were teardrops shed by those waving farewell; on the deck, there was the silence of those who stood gazing for a long time. Amid such an atmosphere, the Bauhinia bid farewell to the Old Earth Continent and sailed toward the unknown.

Angel stood on the deck, watching the continent grow smaller and more distant. Beyond his sense of loss, he also felt a vague premonition: perhaps this departure would see him truly drift farther and farther away from this land.

When he returned again, what kind of scene would await him? Would he return amid the splendid glow of sunset, or with the morning rosy clouds draped over him?

Angel shook his head with a smile, deciding not to dwell on the sorrow of parting. He returned to his cabin, picked up his paper and pen, and continued working through the difficult problems Jon had assigned

.

In the blink of an eye, three days passed.

The ship sailed steadily, without the slightest sense of swaying. The seasickness Angel had initially feared never appeared. However, the many discomforts caused by unfamiliar living habits still left his face pale most of the time.

A rapid knocking sounded at the door, urgent in rhythm.

Angel put down his paper and pen and opened the door. A beautiful young girl stood outside. She wore a white lace princess dress, her light pink hair spilling over her shoulders. Her delicate face carried a hint of shyness, but the moment she saw Angel open the door, her eyes immediately lit up as she called affectionately, "Brother Pat."

The visitor was Irene.

Over the past three days, Angel had only gone to the dining cabin during meals. The rest of the time, he had shut himself in his room studying the problems. This was the first time he had seen Irene since boarding.

"Grandpa has returned. He asked us to go over and said he has something to discuss with us," Irene said.

Angel nodded. "All right. Wait a moment. I'll change clothes and come over."

That day, they had happened to encounter the red-haired young man. After boarding, Moro had only asked an attendant to arrange their meals and lodgings, while he himself had gone to the top-level passenger cabins, seemingly to look for someone. Once he left, there had been no further word. Had Irene not come to tell him today, Angel would not have known that Moro had returned.

The three of them stayed in passenger cabins in the cargo ship's middle levels. The lower levels were mostly where servants and sailors lived. Moro stayed in the upper levels. They did not know the specific identities of those who lived there, but they were presumably either powerful nobles or extraordinary people like Moro.

Led by the attendant, Angel and Irene arrived at Moro's cabin.

The moment they entered, they saw Alan holding a piece of cake, opening his mouth wide to take a vicious bite of whipped cream. White foam still clung to the corners of his mouth. Moro, meanwhile, sat to one side with a serious expression, holding a parchment scroll.

Hearing the door open, Moro raised his head. Not particularly surprised, he nodded at the two of them and gestured for them to sit before him.

Alan had finished his cake by then. Wiping his mouth, he grinned and shuffled over. Irene glared at him, then gave up the empty spot beside her and took out a handkerchief to wipe the stains from the corners of Alan's mouth.

After sitting down, the first thing Angel saw was the parchment scroll Moro had placed on the table.

A portrait was drawn on the parchment. At the top, three large words had been engraved in Common Script: "WANTED NOTICE."

"I know you're curious where I've been these past two days. There's no harm in telling you." Moro changed the subject. "Three wizard organizations have long maintained a presence aboard this Bauhinia. First, to receive those with talent; second, to guard the cargo ship against attacks by sea beasts. Among those three resident wizard organizations is our White Coral Floating Island Academy. These past two days, I have been in the upper cabins, exchanging information about Red-Haired Xius with the academy's escort."

"As for Red-Haired Xius..." Moro fell silent for a moment. "He is the red-haired young man from that day. He came for this wanted notice. As for who exactly he is, you will naturally learn once you reach the academy. I will only say this: if you encounter him in the future, you had best take a detour. His temper is recognized throughout the Southern Region as violent."

After finishing this matter, Moro's expression relaxed slightly. He smiled at the three children. "The reason I called you here this time is actually something else."

"Over the past few days, I discussed it with the escort stationed aboard the Bauhinia. Since you are talented individuals, there is no harm in teaching you the meditation method in advance. So I called you here this time to teach you the meditation method."