Setting sail
When they returned to the stone house, the sun was already setting. Long Tieshan was still tilling the soil beside the house; the sound of his hoe hitting the ground carried across the slope, the rhythm slowed, as if he was finishing up at the end of a vegetable patch. As Long Tian and Yu Jin walked up the slope, Long Tieshan flattened the last mound of soil, leaned the hoe against the wall, rinsed his hands in the bucket of water, shook off the water droplets, and glanced at Long Tian.
Has the date for the high tide been set?
"Three days later," Long Tian squatted down by the well, took out the tide record from his leather bag, and spread it out on the well surface. "The Moon Tide window lasts from the evening before the Moon Tide to the morning of the following day, with the lowest tide occurring in the early morning. During that time, the sea level near Great Abyss will be significantly lower than normal, and the target area may emerge from the water at that time."
Long Tieshan bent down to look at the record sheet on the well platform. After a short while, he straightened up, said nothing, and turned to go into the house. A while later, he came out of the house with a neatly folded dark-colored thick cloth coat and a small package wrapped in oil paper. He handed the thick cloth coat to Long Tian: "The night wind at sea is more damp and cold than in the mountains. Wear this to keep out the wind. The oil paper package contains dried kelp and salted fish; it will keep you warm for a while when you're sailing far out to sea." He placed the package into Long Tian's outstretched hand. Long Tian looked down at the coat; the fabric was thick, the stitches were tight, and the creases at the edges were still fresh.
Dusk crept in from the ridgeline, darkening the branches of the withered pomegranate tree in the courtyard. Yu Jin checked supplies by the woodpile in the corner. Long Tian went inside, folded his outer garment, and placed it in the top layer of his leather bag, along with the oil paper package. Then he squatted by the stove and drank the last bit of cold porridge. Long Tieshan sat on the threshold, pipeless, gazing at the gradually darkening courtyard, his silhouette remaining firm even in the remaining light. They went to bed earlier than usual that night. Moonlight streamed through the windowpanes, drawing a long, slanted streak on the ground. Long Tian lay there with his eyes closed, mentally reviewing his final preparations before departure, making sure nothing was forgotten. Then he turned over, rested his head on his arm, and closed his eyes again.
The next day, they set out before dawn. A thin layer of morning mist still shrouded the courtyard as they left, and dew dripped from the branches of the pomegranate tree into the cracks between the bricks by the well, wetting the moss there. Long Tieshan stood at the door watching them walk down the slope without saying a word of farewell. The two followed the familiar mountain path down to the main road, heading southeast. By the time they passed the high slope outside Longfish Bay, it was already broad daylight. The sea shimmered evenly in the rising sun, and the boats near the shore were still moored at the dock. They checked the tide records and map again, confirmed the route and the date of arrival, and found the same boat they had seen before at the dock. The people at the stern were applying tung oil to the planks. Seeing them approach, they put the brush in a bucket, wiped their hands on a cloth, stood up, and untied the mooring rope. They didn't ask where they were going, as if they already knew where they were going and when they were leaving, and were simply waiting for them to appear at the dock on time.
As the ship departed from the shore, the morning breeze blew in from the land, filling the sails and turning the bow southeast. Long Tian sat at the bow, Dragon Shadow rising from behind him to above the bow, wings half-spread, eyes slightly lowered, the vertical line on his forehead shining continuously in the morning light, like a navigational beacon that shines even in daylight. Yu Jin squatted at the hatchway, holding a water bag, his gaze fixed on the sea ahead, continuously observing the correspondence between the current direction mentioned in the tide log and the ship's actual course, confirming whether the ship could reach its designated position on schedule during the tide changes. The person at the stern adjusted the direction of the rudder, guiding the ship along the continuously flowing undercurrent, marking the course ahead in the designated direction.
Around noon, the boat left the shallow waters near the shore. The seawater gradually changed from bluish-gray to deep blue, then transitioned to a darker, more concentrated hue. The water temperature was slightly lower than near the shore, and the wind shifted from a land breeze to a steady sea breeze. Long Tian squatted at the bow, dipping his hand into the water. The temperature difference he felt matched the tide level records, confirming that the boat had not deviated from its course. He withdrew his hand, and water dripped through his fingers, leaving a row of fine, dark spots on the deck. These quickly turned into light-colored water stains as the water dried.
The ship continued moving forward on the sea. The wind was stable, and the speed remained uniform. As it passed through a confluence of currents, the ship tilted slightly before righting itself. The Dragon Shadow continued to shine above the bow, and the light layer on its forehead adjusted the intensity of its light after about two hours of travel, as if sensing a change in the water layer ahead, before returning to a stable state. The person at the stern glanced at the direction the Dragon Shadow adjusted its light, slightly adjusted the angle of the rudder, and made the bow tilt slightly in that direction to continue moving forward. Yu Jin stood up, walked to the bow, and squatted down next to Long Tian, also dipping his hand into the water to feel the correspondence between the water temperature and the current speed for a moment. He stood up, looked at the still unseen waterline ahead, and rinsed his hands in his water bag. The boat continued forward, the sails held at the same angle by the constant push of the sea breeze, widening the distance between them and their starting point with each step. As darkness fell, a band of a different color appeared on the sea ahead. It was a dark blue-black layer of water, formed by the continuous current, a line darker than the surrounding sea, stretching along the surface like some kind of tangible or penetrable boundary, moving steadily above the sea not far ahead of the boat, about to meet them in the twilight.