Three days later, at dusk.
The river had been burned a dark red by the setting sun.
Black smoke billowed from River Dragon's funnel. Its bow cleaved through the water, while the mountain shadows on both banks deepened in the twilight.
Second Mate Liu Gui carried a kerosene lamp as he made his way down the narrow iron ladder.
The steering gear compartment was at the very bottom of the stern. The iron ladder was rusted, creaking and groaning beneath his feet.
The space inside was small, barely four or five square meters, crammed full of steering linkages and a jumble of spare parts.
There was only a single lightbulb overhead, casting a dim yellow glow.
Liu Gui ran his hand over the hydraulic lines twice, then slowly moved it away and reached into the gap between the pipes and the bulkhead.
But what his fingertips touched was not the texture of an oilcloth-wrapped bundle, but empty space.
He froze for a moment, then reached farther in, his fingers blindly raking through rust and dust.
There was nothing.
Three days earlier, he had personally stuffed that oilcloth bundle in there and covered it tightly with scrap iron sheets. From the outside, it had looked no different from a pile of broken parts.
But now, the gap was completely empty.
"That's not right. Where did it go?"
Liu Gui pressed his face almost against the pipes, his eyes wide.
Trembling, he searched through every layer between the pipes, then pulled apart the pile of scrap parts beside them.
Nothing. Still nothing.
Cold sweat ran down from his temples. A drop landed on a pipe with a soft pat, startling him badly.
He squatted there, his head buzzing.
Had someone found it?
*Impossible. This place is well hidden. Hardly anyone ever comes