The sea wind swept across the deck. Chen Wuya had barely steadied himself when his robe hems were still fluttering. He did not pause, turning to face the sea as his gaze swept across the rolling line of waves in the distance. That leap had let him clearly feel the rhythm of true qi within his body. The pathways of the Canglang Art were gradually being torn open by "Fleeting Bloom," like water seeping into cracks in stone.
Bai Zhi leaned against the rail, one hand resting on her abdomen the whole time. She said nothing, but her eyes followed his every movement. Mo Feng climbed up from the hold, still clutching a wrench, his face smudged with grease.
"The mechanism's fixed," he said. "We'll reach the South Sea Abyssal Ruins in another three days."
Chen Wuya nodded and was about to speak when he suddenly raised a hand, signaling for silence. He stared at the sea off the starboard bow, where a flash of reflected light had just passed by, like the instant metallic something sank beneath the water and refracted the light.
"There's something over there."
Mo Feng immediately crouched down and removed a bronze disc from his waist. Fine patterns were engraved across its surface, with a transparent crystal embedded at its center. He turned the gear along its edge, and the crystal began to emit a faint blue glow, projecting a rippling image into the air.
"Thirty zhang underwater. There's a metallic response." His voice dropped. "It isn't a naturally sunken object. Its movement follows a pattern."
Bai Zhi straightened, her hand pressing against her sword hilt. Chen Wuya did not move. He closed his eyes and mobilized the true qi within him, sinking along the rhythm of the mark on his left arm. Between one