The Mark of the Water Realm
The light-colored line gradually widened as the ship approached. Unlike the contours of an island, it wasn't high; it was a band of color changing along the water's surface, like a thin, spread-out light gray fabric laid flat on the sea. The contrast between its color and the deep blue of the surrounding water was particularly clear in the morning light. The texture of the polished old stone slabs reflected the morning light in the continuous flow of water, like the underlying color revealed after repeated wiping and finally the removal of all the old paint.
Long Tian crouched down at the bow of the boat and reached out to test the water temperature in the lighter-colored area. The instant his hand dipped into the water, his fingertips felt an extremely thin temperature difference—the water in that area was about one or two degrees warmer than the surrounding seawater, as if he were passing through a transparent film separated by layers of water of different temperatures. The temperature difference line only lasted for a moment at his fingertips before being washed away by the surrounding current, but he had already memorized that instantaneous sensation.
He withdrew his hand and squatted by the gunwale, waiting for the boat to completely enter the light-colored area. After the boat entered the color-changing zone, its speed suddenly stabilized, as if it had traveled from a bumpy dirt road onto a paved road. The sound of the water flowing from the bottom of the boat also changed, from the previous continuous slapping to a more even frictional sound, like the new contact sound produced when the hull passes through a medium with a slightly different density.
The man at the stern slightly softened the rudder, letting the boat glide naturally in the direction it was heading. He picked up the rope for the iron weight from the side of the boat, put the weight back into the water, and this time the weight didn't slide at an angle; it sank vertically, gently touching the bottom at a certain depth. The man pulled the rope up, twirling the residue clinging to the end of the rope between his fingers, as if identifying something.
"The texture down here is different from the previous area." He coiled the rope on the deck, his voice low and even. "The bottom of that area was rocky, and the iron made a hard, clanging sound when it hit the bottom. This area has a finer layer of material on the bottom, like crushed and compacted sand. The iron doesn't make an echo when it hits it; there's just a dull thud."
Long Tian retreated from the bow to the middle of the cabin and sat down next to Yu Jin. Yu Jin handed him the water bag, which he took, drank a sip, and then handed back. The morning light was spreading from the east, and the color changes on the sea surface became more pronounced in the gradually brightening light, like the textures of an old wall illuminated from the shadows becoming clearer and more discernible as the light intensified.
The Dragon Shadow remained suspended above the bow. After entering this light-colored area, it subtly adjusted the angle of its wing membranes, its two heads turning slightly in opposite directions—the left head tilting northwest, and the right head extending southeast. The light layer at the edge of the wing membranes spread more evenly across the sea surface than before. All four eyes were open, each reflecting the morning light and the dappled sunlight reflected off the water, maintaining a fixed gaze without frequently adjusting as the ship moved.
Long Tian stood up and walked back to the bow of the ship. He extended a palm and submerged it in the water in front of the bow, allowing the energy of the Origin Return Pearl to slowly penetrate the depths of the water along the direction of his palm. He probed for about a breath, and when he withdrew his hand, a layer of extremely fine grayish-white powder adhered to the edge of his palm—the same type of powder he had seen in the East Sea Caves, the plains and depressions, the mountain halls, and on the surface of underwater reliefs. The powder was light gray in the morning light, spreading evenly on his wet palm like fine dust blown onto a damp surface by the wind. It maintained its adhesion and color intensity under the continuous nourishment of moisture, without dissolving or fading in the continuous dampness, like a coating that had been repeatedly soaked but still retained its granular form.
He turned his palm over so that the morning light shone more directly on the powder surface. Under the light, the powder exhibited a uniform luster, with each fine grain reflecting light at the same angle. He squatted down and rubbed the powder off his hand along the edge of the boat plank. The powder did not get blown away by the wind after landing on the boat plank surface, but stayed on the surface of the wood grain, like a layer of fine sand that had been evenly sprinkled and had achieved a temporary adhesion balance with the wood grain surface through continuous contact.
"This stretch of underwater doesn't seem narrow." Long Tian stood up and looked at the still-extending light-colored area ahead. The ship's gliding speed in this area was slightly slower than before, as if the hull was experiencing increased resistance as it came into contact with a denser layer of water, but the direction of the current remained stable. "Once the ship reaches the edge of this underwater area, the color of the seawater should return to its original deep blue over a certain distance. At that time, I will observe the pattern and intervals of the color change from the bow. If the change is uniform and progressive, it means that this light-colored area is a single, continuous stretch; if the change is abrupt, it means that this area is composed of multiple scattered sections pieced together."
The man at the stern nodded. His hand returned to the helm, keeping the bow pointing, guiding the boat forward along the direction of the persistent undercurrent. The morning light continued to rise, and the light gray areas on the sea became even paler under the stronger light, like an old fabric soaked in dew gradually drying as the sun rose. The color became increasingly uniform as the humidity decreased, spreading out more and more evenly towards the horizon, like a repeatedly compacted surface continuously reflecting the same hue under the persistent sunlight, stretching all the way to the distant horizon where the water and sky meet, only to be absorbed into a fading boundary line by the difference in brightness in the distance.