"Those who abandon me leave behind yesterday, which cannot be kept; those who trouble my heart make today's affairs rife with worries."
On the deck of the Boat of Death, Zhang Yang recited the lines with a touch of melancholy, which was proof enough that he was a good student. The reason he had thought of these two lines at this very moment was that he was about to set foot in yesterday. Today had already been left behind in the Fifth Sequence, while tomorrow remained a distant, uncertain prospect.
This was the magic of time, and also part of the true meaning behind the Six Great Sequences' structure.
The Boat of Death was steady, and there was no dazzling radiance or earth-shaking phenomenon visible outside.
If he had traveled by catapult, that would certainly have been the case, but smuggling across was utterly silent.
Time and space seemed to have become flowing water, while the Boat of Death truly resembled a small boat.
Zhang Yang was the boatman aboard it.
He could hear neither the sound of water nor see it flowing, but the small boat was indeed moving forward.
At some point, a dense gray fog spread out, like the whites of a dead person's eyes. It seeped in through every opening, winding around the Boat of Death and wrapping itself around Zhang Yang as well.
But at that moment, the Stellar Imprint, which had already bound itself to Zhang Yang, surfaced automatically. That resplendent galaxy encircled Zhang Yang's body, then the entire small boat. After several seconds, it vanished without a trace. At the same time, however, the fog no longer approached the boat or Zhang Yang himself, maintaining a distance of three zhang at all times.
This was one of the benefits brought by the identity