This was nothing like fighting someone aboard a boat, taking their things, then openly keeping them on his own boat to use. At most, he would take a pen to them afterward, scribble out the markings, and write his own surname on them.
This time, it was a boat!
He couldn't be that blatant about it. If anything happened, it would be a lot more trouble.
Nothing with markings could stay. Even taking it home and altering the markings felt unsafe. It all had to go into the sea. Safety first.
Who cared where these buckets and baskets drifted? As long as he didn't bring them home for the villagers to see.
Ye Yaodong saw that they had even written a big "Qian" on the bamboo pole in black ink, just like on the buckets and bamboo baskets. He decided not to take it home and saw that section off, tossing it into the sea with the rest to drift with the waves.
Anything with markings, large or small, went overboard. He kept none of it. Only a few small things remained afterward. Fortunately, the fishing nets were usable and had no markings on them.
Once he had dealt with most of the things aboard, he calmed down. Patiently, he checked the boat inside and out one more time before finally feeling completely at ease.
Father Ye stood by the gunwale the whole time, craning his neck as he watched him bustling back and forth, inside and out, throwing away one thing after another. It pained him a little, but they really couldn't keep any of those things.
"Done yet, Dongzi? You've thrown away just about everything, haven't you?"
"Pretty much. There shouldn't be anything conspicuous left that someone could recognize."
"Good, good. Then let's wait here a little longer.