The sea was as calm as an unpolished bronze mirror, the ripples split by the prow slowly receding to either side. Chen Wuya's hand still rested against the dragon keel, Misaligned Force seeping bit by bit from his palm into the seams of the wood, mending those invisible cracks. He could feel the hull had become steadier than before, but the true qi within him was still somewhat sluggish, like water that had taken the wrong path, surging back and forth through his meridians.
The wind blew in from the right, carrying a faintly salty, fishy scent.
He lifted his head to inspect the sky. The sun had already tilted westward, stretching the shadows long. The distant waters showed no movement, and not even a bird flew overhead. This stretch of sea was far too quiet.
Footsteps sounded from the cabin entrance. Mo Feng had returned. He carried a black case in his arms, its surface set with several copper plates, its corners marked by scorch burns. He set the case on the deck and crouched to open it. Inside was an unfurled sea chart, formed from fine lines and points of light, glowing faintly.
"I re-marked it according to the location Li Sanhe gave us," Mo Feng said rapidly. "Three sentry posts form a line that cuts straight across the bay where we originally planned to land."
Chen Wuya walked over and stared at the chart. The points of light upon it drifted slowly, simulating the direction of the currents. He noticed that around the place called "Safe Harbor," there were no tracks of ships stopping there at all. Instead, several broken lines pointed toward the deep sea, like records that had been forcibly cut off.
"Something's wrong here," he said. "A normal harbor should have traces of vessels