Qing Deng! I told you to split ghosts, not to split me!

The sails billowed full, the rigging stretched taut.

The wheel turned, the rudder swung, and even the splash guards along both sides of the ship's midsection kept changing direction.

The entire ship rattled and shuddered. The wooden cradle beneath its hull groaned incessantly, emitting harsh creaks. After the two sides wrestled for a moment, the creaking suddenly grew louder. The cradle tilted over in unison, and the whole ship lurched forward—

"Stop!"

Shen Le hurriedly shouted for it to stop. He leaped onto the deck. Before he could even take out the Copper Fragment and press it against the wheel, the wheel had already come to a rapid halt. The rudder stilled, and the splash guards quietly stopped moving.

Only the black wind blowing out from the cabin continued to howl as it circled around him. "Are you trying to take it out for a spin?"

Shen Le frowned and patted the rudder. The black wind continued to whirl, seeming to have something it desperately wanted to say, yet unable to communicate with Shen Le due to its configuration.

Shen Le pressed both hands against the cabin wheel, doing his best to extend his mental power, meditate, and resonate with the wooden ship. After struggling for quite a while, he gained only a faint impression:

It seemed, perhaps, maybe the decorations taken from inside the wooden ship—the lanterns, dolls, furniture, and the like—were more spiritually charged and easier to communicate with?

It made sense when he thought about it. Shen Le put himself in their shoes. If he had been one of the common people who died in the plague, the lingering attachment, pain, and sorrow he left behind...

Or if he had been one of those entities drawn in by the ritual—

Or if he had been one of