As soon as day broke, the Clown had to hurry to Seven-Masts Anchorage.
An Youyu went back to his cabin and washed his face. When he hurried to the trestle bridge, he still couldn't help yawning.
The Clown was already moored beneath the trestle bridge, which was packed with people seeing them off.
The oil lamp in the Commune Hall had burned all night. News that the nomination to Seize the Mast was only halfway complete—and that they still had to go to Seven-Masts Anchorage today for re-verification and lot-drawing—had long spread along every trestle bridge to the entire commune.
A few young boatfolk behind the bridge spoke in low voices. Though they admitted that "Salamander Swim One Hundred Pressure" had too low a chance of winning Seize the Mast, they truly resented themselves for failing to complete even First-Transformation, leaving them without even the right to take the field for the float-commune.
Whether they won a mast or not was one thing; someone from Clown still had to fight for their pride. Since they couldn't take the field, they would do everything they could off the field.
The first thing they could do off the field was gather enough money for the post-drawing donation.
No one knew what would be written on the lots; if they drew rare fish materials, Clown's meager public funds might not be enough to buy them.
If they failed to deliver the donation, the replacement nomination would be voided. Once Ugly Stone was unchained, nearly a hundred households would lose their Floating Spring and anchorage, forced to drag their broken vessels along as wandering drift-folk.
With their homes about to shatter, what was the use of guarding their coin purses tightly?
Every family kept only their basic rations, pouring every shell-coin they could spare into the treasury chest.
The young people stopped uttering disheartened words, simply urging the Clown to set sail quickly and draw the lot first.
The foundation of the Clown was the hulking shell of a small patrol warship from an older era.
Over decades, whenever a plank broke, it was patched; now it was pieced together in seven or eight shades of color, with the three faded words 【The Clown】 painted on the bow.
Only four people boarded today.
Ning Cang was in charge of steering the vessel, Xu Jian led the way and handled official documents, Lu Guizhou served as escort, and An Youyu was the actual candidate for the replacement nomination.
The sea breeze unfurled the commune flag hanging on the Clown, spreading its smiling face toward the trestle bridge.
The crowd seeing them off filled the trestle bridges on both sides, their arms raised high and low, none in a hurry to lower them.
Ning Xiaoluo squeezed through the crowd to the bridge's edge. The sea wind lifted the stray hair on the left side of her face, exposing two rows of white tooth scars curving from beneath her cheekbone to her jawline.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called out, "Little Uncle, good luck! Draw a good lot!"
"I'll take that good luck." An Youyu raised a hand to her.
"Set sail!"
The Clown passed through the water gate.
The float-commune's ring walls, trestle bridges, and stacked huts gradually receded behind the vessel.
With no more obstructions ahead, the gray-blue sea unfolded to both sides, stretching all the way to the horizon.
...
Clown Float-Commune was less than ten li from Seven-Masts Anchorage, but after the black flag had been taken down, several lingering undercurrents still remained underwater.
Someone who didn't know how to read currents could easily be pulled off course and wander for a whole day without reaching Seven-Masts Anchorage.
Ning Cang had sailed these waters for years and was thoroughly familiar with the temperament of the lingering currents. Adjusting the rudder and sails along the way, he kept the Clown steadily on course.
After traveling a few li, several white splashes suddenly churned on the sea surface ahead, and the sounds of breaking water reached An Youyu's ears one after another.
Tracing the sound, he turned his head to see a cold-silver blade-beak pierce the sea surface, followed by a wide, flattened fish body leaping into midair.
Long fins on both sides snapped open, spanning a full two zhang across. Their surfaces were covered in woody hard scales, with light-colored wood grain extending all the way to their sharp edges.
Flying dagger wood ray.
When he had served as a Patrol Scout in the Zijing Sea, An Youyu had encountered flying dagger wood rays several times with fleets. Later, during his time as an inquisitor, he had even interrogated water bandits who specialized in trafficking them.
On the sea, fish meant for the pot were called 【edible fish】, while those that yielded useful materials were called 【resource fish】.
The flying dagger wood ray belonged to the latter.
Its flesh was tough, coarse, and unpalatable, but its long, narrow blade-beak could yield refined iron. Its woody scales, once dried and ground into powder, could be pressed into wooden boards.
These materials were worth quite a bit, but its lethality was equally formidable.
An adult wood ray weighed over five hundred jin. After leaping from the sea, it could glide dozens of zhang on its long fins; its blade-beak could pierce ordinary hull planks, and its fin edges could slice through rigging ropes.
An Youyu followed the wood ray with his gaze as it veered off to the front-diagonal. Just when it seemed about to glide away, it suddenly banked around.
Its massive body tilted sideways, blade-beak locking onto the ship's midsection, as its lower fin tip dragged a white streak across the water.
It drew closer and closer.
"It's targeted us!" Ning Cang shouted.
Having sailed the Seven-Masts Waters for many years, Ning Cang had only seen flying dagger wood rays a few times. The one before them was likely swept here from elsewhere by the deep undercurrents earlier.
If he were sailing alone today, he would have abandoned the wheel and jumped into the sea by now; half a step slower, and he would be chopped to pieces by that blade-beak and swallowed whole into its stomach.
Fortunately, Lu Guizhou was also on board.
"A fish delivering itself to our boat—how could we not haul it in?"
Lu Guizhou grabbed a stay rope, kicked off the gunwale, and launched himself into the air.
A gray-blue fish membrane stretched open between his fingers, and he glided across the sea surface straight toward the wood ray.
An Youyu recognized this ability. Each Sea King Path possessed its own traits; the 【Sky Ray Path】 governed buoyancy and sinkage, allowing one to glide on the wind by spreading fish membranes.
The flying dagger wood ray swept past the ship's bow.
Lu Guizhou pressed his arms down, catching the wind to leap high into the air. Flipping over the blade-beak onto the ray's back, he struck downward with a fierce palm strike.
The palm force penetrated deep into its back, causing both long fins to instantly lose power.
The massive body plunged straight down, carrying a howling wind as it crashed toward the Clown.
"The stern!"
Ning Cang swung the rudder, maneuvering the empty rear cabin beneath the falling wood ray.
The flying dagger wood ray slammed sideways into the rear cabin, causing the Clown to sink abruptly. As it thrashed its tail to break free, Lu Guizhou swung back to the deck along a stay rope and bound the base of its tail with a long cord.
He turned over the blade-beak and felt the woody scales on both sides. "It looks great. Perfect to exchange for money once we enter the anchorage."
Xu Jian wiped seawater from his face. "Using Five Hundred Pressure capabilities just to catch fish... Chief Lu, you sure know how to live within your means."
Lu Guizhou glanced at the commune flag at the bow. "Pity the Tide Battle only accepts youths under twenty. Otherwise, I could fight for Clown once more."
"Save it," Xu Jian said, securing his document box once more. "You were Five Hundred Pressure during your eighteen-year-old run too, and ended up ranked seventeenth."
Lu Guizhou tightened the knot another notch. "What's wrong with seventeenth? I exposed my abilities too early that year, and several communes were afraid I'd storm the platform arena, so they ganged up to target me first. If I'd known to hold back earlier, Clown would have taken a seat forty years ago."
An Youyu was somewhat surprised. "Uncle Lu, you were Five Hundred Pressure at eighteen?"
"At least that much."
"Then forty-plus years have passed—why are you still stuck at First-Transformation?"
Lu Guizhou's hand coiling the rope slowed slightly.
"I actually tried to push forward too. After that Tide Battle, the commune scraped together all its savings and sent me to Yancheng Anchorage—the biggest anchorage in the Salt-Bone Sea."
"Staying in Seven-Masts, being Five Hundred Pressure at eighteen made me a good prospect. But at Yancheng Anchorage, that was barely enough to sit for the academy entry exams..."
"I tried for two years. I failed to get into the academy, couldn't obtain a follow-up fish recipe, spent all the money, and could only return."
He coiled the remaining rope and pressed his foot down on the still-thrashing tail. "Since I couldn't make it myself, I taught the children in the commune, always dreaming that one day we'd plant Clown's flag atop a mast again. That wait has lasted over forty years."
Over forty years... did that really mean reaching the end of the road?
When An Youyu was an inquisitor, a colleague of his had also been stuck at First-Transformation for fifty years.
That person only obtained a complete set of follow-up fish recipes at age sixty-eight, completed Second-Transformation the following year, and in the third year swept through Third-Transformation all the way to Seventh-Transformation in succession, stepping into the Second Realm in a single leap.
Who could say for sure when it came to opportunities along the Sea King Paths?
An Youyu shared this piece of the past with Lu Guizhou while concealing the person's identity and source of information.
Lu Guizhou touched his white hair, his foot pressing down firmly on the fish tail again. "So by that measure, I'm not old yet."
The Clown pressed forward.
A flying dagger wood ray was a rare fish to begin with, extremely hard to encounter even during a Harvest Tide, let alone during the current Wither Tide. For the Clown to run into one was already a stroke of massive good fortune.
Lu Guizhou glanced into the rear cabin several times, getting happier with every look. "If we can run into this, today must be an auspicious day. When we draw lots later, what could possibly go wrong?"
As noon approached, boats on the sea grew more numerous.
Wide-bellied grain transports, cold barges trailing fish holds, and small boats draped with drying nets merged into the same waterway one after another.
At the end of the waterway, seven tall masts emerged above the sea surface, their tops flying the commune flags of the current Seven Seats.
They had reached Seven-Masts Anchorage.
...
Rate on N.U.
