Not long after the ship left the shore, the sea suddenly fell quiet. The wind was still blowing, the sails still swollen, yet the ceaseless sound of waves striking the hull had weakened considerably.
Chen Wuya sat by the cabin entrance, his right hand pressed over his left arm. The mark had grown hot again—hotter than before—as if something were throbbing beneath his skin. He said nothing, but his knuckles had turned faintly white.
Bai Zhi leaned against a wooden crate, her face still pale. Her eyes were closed, her breathing soft, one hand resting over her lower abdomen. The discomfort from earlier had passed, and the child had stopped moving as well.
Mo Feng came over from the stern, holding a crystal in his hand. He had dismantled it from the wreckage of the mechanical cannon. Its edges were already cracked, and its glow flickered on and off. He crouched and placed the crystal between them.
"This thing can still detect energy fluctuations," he said. "I tested it just now. It reacted to your mark."
Chen Wuya raised his eyes to him.
Mo Feng held out his hand. "Let me see."
Chen Wuya hesitated for a moment, then rolled up his sleeve. The mark was exposed: two intersecting ripples, darker than before, their edges tinged with faint violet.
Mo Feng touched its edge with a fingertip. The instant he made contact, the crystal flashed. He immediately pulled out a bronze compass and set it on the ground. The compass spun several times before its needle abruptly stopped, pointing toward the southern seas. Then several words surfaced upon its face: Only blood can undo it; only incense can guide it.
"These are ancient seal-script characters." Mo Feng lowered his voice. "The Bloodline Resonance Curse. It isn't a seal, nor is