boyutpedia Chapter 419 Zhang Guo
Chapter 419 Zhang Guo
The fishing boat drifted in the night fog for nearly ten hours. The sputtering of the diesel engine echoed up the keel, making every plank of wood tremble. Zhang Chulan huddled in a corner of the cabin on an old tire, his head resting against a moldy life jacket that Wang Zhenqiu had somehow found. His face was pale, and his eyes were half-open as he stared at the crack in the cabin ceiling that had been smoked for who knows how many years.
"How much longer..." His voice was muffled in his throat, like bubbles rising from the bottom of water, "I feel like my stomach has already turned over three times..."
"You've been asking since you boarded the ship, twelve times now." Wang Zhenqiu sat cross-legged on an overturned wooden crate opposite him, picking at the dirt under his fingernails with a rusty nail he'd peeled off from the cabin wall. "How many times is this? I'm keeping track. Do you want to report it?"
"Then tell me how much longer."
"How should I know? I'm not the captain."
"Then go and ask the captain for me."
What's the point of your mouth?
"I need to keep my mouth shut to spit—"
Zhang Chulan sat up abruptly, covering his mouth with one hand and waving the other wildly in the air. Wang Zhenqiu, quick as a flash, grabbed a paint bucket from beside him and shoved it in front of him. The bottom of the bucket was still covered with a layer of semi-dry red paint, emitting a pungent chemical smell. Zhang Chulan gagged twice at the rim of the bucket, finally spitting out a mouthful of sour liquid before slumping back onto the tire, his face paler than before.
"Your seasickness is even more exhausting than your lightning magic," Wang Zhenqiu said, kicking the bucket back to its original position. "It's not easy, really not easy."
"You... what do you know... this is called a difference in physical constitution..."
"I understand, I understand."
Lu Linglong sat at the hatch, her back against the door frame, her legs dangling gently over the gunwale. The night breeze ruffled the stray hairs on her forehead before letting them fall back down. She hugged her knees, gazing at the faint, indistinct light on the distant sea, then suddenly turned to Lu Lin inside the cabin and said, "Brother, look over there."
Lu Lin opened her eyes from her half-drowsy state and looked out in the direction the other woman was pointing. Where the sea met the sky, there was a row of extremely tiny warm yellow dots of light, like someone had poked a row of holes in a dark blue sheet of paper with a needle, the light shining through the holes, flickering and trembling.
"The coastline." Lu Lin recognized it for a moment, her lips relaxing slightly. "We're almost there."
"Finally." Lu Linglong rested her forehead on her knees and let out a long breath. The salty smell of the sea breeze was fading, and a faint scent of mud and vegetation was drifting in from the land, seeping into her lungs through her nostrils. She realized that she had been missing this smell for several days.
Those in the cabin who heard the words "almost there" relaxed slightly. Baron sheathed his half-cleaned dagger, stood up, and walked to the bow, squinting as he discerned the outlines of distant lights. Feng Baobao remained seated on the stern railing, her katana resting on her lap, but she glanced towards the land with a slit in her eye before lowering her gaze again, burying her chin in her raised collar. Ruan Feng huddled in a pile of sacks in the far corner of the stern, holding only a half-empty flat wine flask. He watched the distant lights grow denser, tilted his head back, and drank the last drop, wiping his lips with his thumb and letting out a muffled laugh.
"Finally, I'm back to a place where people can live." He tossed the wine jug aside, rested his hands behind his head, nestled into a pile of burlap sacks, and stretched out his legs comfortably. "The wine on this island these past few years has made my tongue taste bitter. What kind of rubbish did those people brew? It tasted like saltwater dredged up from the sea."
Baron turned around from the bow of the ship: "Has the place for you to stay been decided, senior?"
"Let's find a place with braised pork hock and authentic Lao Baijiu (a type of Chinese liquor) and laze around for a couple of days." Ruan Feng closed his eyes, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "We'll talk about other things after I've caught up on my sleep these past few days. People who are used to being idle aren't comfortable being told what to do."
The fishing boat docked half an hour later. The pier was so small it didn't even have a name; a narrow concrete pier jutted into the shallows, its surface covered in moss and dried barnacle shells, making it slippery to walk on. A lone, dim streetlamp stood on the shore, its bulb caked with insect carcasses, casting a hazy, warm orange glow. A black van was parked on the gravel ground at the end of the pier, its hood still warm, clearly having arrived recently.
The driver was a young man in his early twenties, with very short hair and a faint scar on his forehead, wearing a faded gray jacket. He saw Nie Lingfeng and his group walk over from the gangplank in the rearview mirror. Without exchanging pleasantries, he simply nodded slightly, then turned and opened the rear door. His gaze lingered on Ruan Feng for a moment before discreetly looking away; it seemed someone had instructed him on the way there, "Don't ask any questions about what you see."
"Finally back!" Zhang Chulan slumped into the back seat, his face up, his limbs taking up most of the seat. He let out a long breath, as if trying to expel all the sea air that had accumulated in his stomach. "I will never—really—go on a boat again in my life! I can still feel my feet swaying!" He tried to sit up straight to show that he was okay, but his back slumped back halfway up, and he leaned against the backrest like a plastic ruler softened by a fire.
"You're seasick, it's not a problem with the boat." Wang Zhenqiu squeezed in from the other side of the car, pushed him aside, and after settling in, wrinkled his nose and moved half an inch closer to the door. "Stay away from me, you have a weird smell of paint and fish mixed together, even stronger than the burnt smell of your Lei Fa roasting something."
"You have the nerve to say that to me? You're the same way! You still have seaweed from Nathan Island stuck in the crevices of your three-section staff; I saw it the moment I looked up!"
"At least I didn't throw up."
"I didn't throw up either!"
"You almost threw up." Wang Zhenqiu gestured with his lip toward the paint bucket that Zhang Chulan had used.
"That means he didn't throw up!"
The van drove away from the pier and along the coastline for about ten minutes. The scenery on both sides gradually changed from messy windbreaks and abandoned fishponds to neat green belts and evenly spaced streetlights. The engine sounded deep and steady, and warm air blew in from the vents, gradually stripping away the chill from everyone.
Lu Linglong leaned against the rear window, her forehead pressed against the cool glass, watching the familiar streetlights and shop signs flash by. Her voice was soft and dreamy: "It feels like I've been on Nathan Island for ages, but when I think about it, it's only been a few days."
"A few days' worth of events is enough for someone to remember for a lifetime." Lu Lin sat next to her, his voice low. His elbow rested on the armrest, his knuckles tapping absently on the car window frame. "Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still see the light of Alfonso's sword."
"And when the sacred tree fell," Lu Linglong's voice lowered even further, "the whole ground shook. I've never seen anything like it."
A moment of silence fell over the carriage. Zhang Chulan and Wang Zhenqiu had stopped bickering at some point, each gazing out the window at the night scene flashing by like a revolving lantern. The streetlights flickered across everyone's faces, illuminating the outlines of their subtle weariness and lingering heaviness.
Zhang Chulan was silent for a moment, then turned his head to look at the front passenger seat. Nie Lingfeng sat upright, the outline of the back of his head outlined with a pale gold by the light passing by the window. His profile was as calm as a still lake, and only when he blinked occasionally did one realize that he wasn't a statue.
"Brother Nie," Zhang Chulan asked, "what are we going to do after we get back?"
Nie Lingfeng didn't turn around: "Rest first, then report the situation to the company. We'll wait for Chairman Zhao's arrangements."
"Oh." Zhang Chulan tucked his chin into his collar, paused for two seconds, then couldn't help but add, "What about Senior Ruan Feng and Grandpa Li Muxuan? Aren't they coming back with us?"
"Senior Ruan Feng said he wanted to find a place to drink and wouldn't be going too far from Nathan Island for a while," Lu Linglong chimed in from behind. "He told Baron this himself."
"Don't even mention Old Master Li." Wang Zhenqiu pulled a toothpick from his pocket and put it in his mouth. "After the explosion, I went back to look for him, but I couldn't even find a trace of his clothes. That old man, he ran faster than a rabbit."
"That's called the demeanor of a master." Zhang Chulan mimicked Wang Zhenqiu's previous tone.
"Is the mark of a truly accomplished person to disappear at the drop of a hat?"
"That's called 'a dragon that appears only briefly, never to be seen again.'"
"Isn't that just playing the disappearance game again!"
"you--"
"Alright, alright." Lu Linglong patted the back of the seat between them, her tone carrying a sense of habitual helplessness. "You two have been arguing from the ship to the car, don't you get tired?"
The van drove for nearly three more hours. The scenery on both sides gradually changed from sparse villages in the countryside to industrial parks on the outskirts of the city, and then to the main urban road with its increasingly dense neon lights. The world outside the car window became brighter and brighter, and the number of pedestrians and vehicles gradually increased. Zhang Chulan leaned against the window, looking at a late-night noodle shop that was still lit up, and his Adam's apple bobbed.
"Will anyone treat us to a late-night snack when we get there?" He turned and scanned the people in the car with his bright eyes. "I can eat three bowls of noodles right now, the kind with toppings."
"Didn't you just say you were going to go back and sleep for three days and three nights?" Wang Zhenqiu tilted his head to look at him.
"Eat first, then sleep."
"...Is that all you've got?"
As the gray building of NaDuTong's headquarters emerged from the street corner, the night was already deep. Only a few floors of the main building were lit, and the security booth on the first floor emitted a warm white light. The guard on duty saw the license plate number through the tempered glass and opened the electric gate in advance. The van slowly drove into the underground parking garage, its tires making a dull thud as they rolled over the speed bumps, echoing for a while in the empty garage before dissipating.
The group ascended the elevator to the office floor. The corridor was carpeted in dark gray, silencing most of their footsteps, leaving only the soft rustling of fabric. Chairman Zhao's office was at the end of the corridor, the door ajar, a warm yellow light emanating from the crack, forming a narrow strip of light on the dark carpet.
Chairman Zhao sat behind his desk, several open documents laid out in front of him. To his right sat a cup of steaming barley tea, the tea leaves having sunk to the bottom, indicating it had been refilled several times. He was still wearing his dark gray jacket, one button undone at the cuff and the collar slightly open, suggesting he had been waiting for their return.
Seeing everyone file in, Chairman Zhao put down his pen, glanced at each person's face, and nodded slightly: "You're back? You've worked hard."
"Hello, Chairman Zhao!" Zhang Chulan greeted him first, rushing over to the sofa area and throwing himself into the soft cushions. He grabbed a Fuji apple from the fruit bowl on the coffee table, took a big bite with a crunch, and juice splattered on his lips. He mumbled, "Ah—fruit from back home is so much better! Those wild berries on Nathan Island are so small and astringent, it's like chewing on wood—"
"You ate just as much, didn't you?" Wang Zhenqiu sat down next to him, slowly peeling an orange. "I saw you squatting by the roadside in the park, fighting with a local kid over a handful of wild berries."
"Things you steal always taste better." Zhang Chulan took another bite of the apple, completely unconcerned. "You wouldn't understand."
"I really don't understand."