The final stretch of their voyage was unexpectedly peaceful. The sea lay calm, and they encountered barely even a few low-level sea beasts, as though all the danger had been exhausted in Blackwater Bay. Yet this unnatural calm only heightened Chen Ming's vigilance-when things strayed from the ordinary, something sinister was surely afoot. Either their luck was exceptionally good, or something about these waters kept ordinary sea beasts from approaching.
The Spirit Boat sailed for another eight hours or so. When the sun climbed directly overhead, Chen Ming finally spotted a blurry black dot on the horizon.
"We're here," he said softly, a trace of anticipation impossible to conceal in his voice.
As the Spirit Boat drew closer, the outline of the deserted island gradually sharpened. It was a medium-sized island, roughly five or six li long and three or four li wide, covered in dense primeval forest. Its trees were tall and thick, their branches and leaves blotting out the sky and sun. A mountain of middling height rose at the island's center. Its shape was rather peculiar, resembling a crouching giant beast and exuding an inexplicable sense of oppression.
The Spirit Boat docked in a natural harbor on the island's southern side. The water was deep enough for it to sail straight to shore, where a narrow stretch of beach lay, its fine white sand glittering in the sunlight.
The three jumped off the Spirit Boat, and Chen Ming put it into a dedicated Storage Bag-a special bag Feng Wuying had made, large enough to hold a small or medium-sized Spirit Boat for easy transport.
"This island doesn't look like anything special." Zhao Tie Zhu glanced around and scratched his head. "Where's the cave abode Shen Qinghe mentioned?"
Rather than answering immediately, Chen Ming took the sea chart