The evening tide goes out. Countless sea snails cover the reef.
Tana spits out seawater and opens her dazed eyes. The world feels unsteady. She hears someone speaking and struggles to sit up.
The person beside her is barefoot. He wears grey shorts and a white vest. Looking closer, she sees a dark-skinned teenager. He speaks to her in a dialect she does not understand. She wants to answer but does not know how.
He pauses, then tries speaking in Mandarin: "Where are you from?"
His words are awkward but clear. She feels lucky to understand. She tells him she is a merchant from Lingnan. Her ship sinks, she falls into the water, and drifts here.
The waves are rough. Tana loses her boots and her robe. The sea washes away her hairpin. She feels her waist. Luckily, her waist knife is still tied firmly. The cloth binding her chest is soaked. While the teenager gathers snails, she quietly unties the cloth. She uses it to tie her loose hair into a braid hanging down her back. Now she looks like a woman. This helps her hide who she is.
The shore is covered with sea snails, too many to collect. Those on the low cliff are very large. The teenager moves steadily across the reef. He picks snails from the cliff face and puts them in the bamboo basket on his back.
"Right after the tide goes out, there are many big snails here. We can trade them for coins at the port market."
"The market... are there merchant ships going to the Persian Gulf?"
"You need to go to Shenying Port. It's a long walk, seven days. By ship, one day at fastest."
"It's getting late. I need a place to stay."
"You can stay in our village tonight."
"Your village?"
"Fan Village. Walk along the beach for half an hour."
The sky is dark, but some sunset glow remains.
Tana has no other plan, so she accepts.
Before leaving, the teenager remembers something. He takes an item from his pocket.
"I found this on the rock next to you. I was afraid the sea would take it. I kept it for you. Here. "
Tana notices the item in the other person's hand and realizes her belt has torn open. She snatches the object from their grasp.
The teenager asks, "Is it an identity tag? I've seen people in town wear them, usually merchants. Yours is different. It's shaped like an eagle and has strange writing."
"Can you read?"
"No."
"Then how do you know it's writing?""It looks like writing."
This is a "Hai Dongqing" token, a secret pass for Mongol Empire spies. Only nobles can have one.
If he can read it, that is bad. Even if he cannot, if he tells people in town, it will bring officials. Wanted notices must be everywhere now. Leaving here must be done perfectly. No mistakes. The teenager has a Chai Dao. Attacking him directly may let him get away. She needs to find a chance.
The teenager asks curiously:"What's the pattern on the back of your shirt?"
"That... it's just a pattern."
Among the stolen ship plans is a small parchment scroll. The pattern is pricked onto it. Tana has sewn it inside her shirt. Seawater soaks the shirt, showing the pattern.
For a year she has spent much silver, risking her life, all for this one parchment. She must bring it back no matter what.
She deliberately walks behind the boy, waiting for her chance. The rocky shore is uneven and pitted; walking barefoot on it is dangerous, as one can easily get a foot wound. She has to be careful.
The teenager is also barefoot but moves easily. Tana finds no chance to draw her knife.
They pass the rocky shore and head for the sand. Tana feels her chance has come. She steps forward to pull her knife, but the teenager turns suddenly.
"We're here. Fan Village is ahead."
"Oh... oh."
She withdraws her hand.
Dusk falls. A few lights shine along the shore. The shapes of boats are visible on the water.
The boy calls out to people on a small boat ahead. They answer.
Tana becomes alert. "What did you say?"
"Just that I have a guest staying with me tonight," he replies. "They're my neighbors."
"Oh, I see." Tana says, though she remains watchful.
Villagers are nearby. Acting now will cause a commotion. If discovered, they will report to officials. She needs another plan to lure him to a deserted spot outside the village.
They approach several stilt houses standing where land meets sea. Built of stripped timber with bark-covered walls and roofs, they stand like silent sentinels against the darkening sky.
The teenager stops in front of one, "This is my house. You can stay here tonight."
He opens the door, lights the candle on the table. The kitchen is separated by a shell curtain. There is a stone stove with an iron pot and a rice jar beside it. The teenager puts down his basket, secures the lid, then scoops a large bowl of rice.
"I'll be right back."
He leaves with the bowl.
Tana sees him enter a nearby house and speak to someone inside. Her training makes her alert. She quickly leaves and hides.
She sees the teenager return with the bowl. After a while, no one follows him, and he acts normally. Tana goes back inside.
"I thought you had left."
"I went out to relieve myself. It was dark, I almost got lost."
"I went to the neighbor's to trade for sweet fermented rice. They bought glutinous rice recently and just made it. You were in the sea so long, you need wine to drive out the cold."
"Sweet... wine?"
"Yes. A big bowl of rice for just a small bowl of wine. They wouldn't give it to a stranger."
Then the teenager scoops water from an earthen jar outside and puts it in the pot to boil.
Since trying mare's milk wine, Tana has found all alcohol sour and rough. Memories of forced social drinking come back, too painful to recall.
The teenager pours the fermented rice into two small bowls and adds hot water. The steam carries a faint fragrance.
From the moment she entered, Tana watches the teenager's every move. Boiling water, fetching bowls, pouring wine. She notes every detail. Even when he hands her the bowl, she sees nothing wrong.
The teenager chews dried fish and sips the warm wine. Tana tries a small sip. A sweet warmth spreads through her body. She never knew wine could taste so good.
They have been inside a while, but she sees no family. Feeling suspicious, she asks, "Where is your family?"
The teenager hesitates. "They are all dead. It's just me."
She seems to have asked a painful question. His answer also pains her. She has lost Steward Yan today, someone she considers a friend.
"How old are you?"
"Fourteen."
Tana is three years older. He looks and speaks maturely, but his face still holds some youth. So, she decides to invent a story to gain his trust.
"My family is from the north. We trade cloth, so I've traveled many places. I've heard Zhuya Island is the land's end. I came specifically to find the 'The ends of the earth'. Can you guide me?"
The teenager hesitates before speaking: "This is the east side. The place you want is furthest south."
This is neither yes nor no.
Tana thinks he wants money. She says immediately, "Don't worry, I'll pay for the boat."
She then remembers her money pouch was lost and quickly takes off her earrings.
The teenager suddenly stands up: "With good wind, a small boat takes a day!"
Maybe it is about the money. Perhaps the boy is not as simple as she thinks.
The teenager adds, "Rest early. We leave tomorrow morning."
Tana asks suspiciously, "Where will you sleep?"
The teenager replies, "On the boat!"
Then he quickly leaves.
Tana feels uneasy. She takes a hoe and bars the door. He is only fourteen, but she knows not to underestimate human evil. Traveling alone, things are harder without Steward Yan handling matters.
In summer, mosquitoes along the shore are numerous. The mosquito net is old and torn; mosquitoes buzz in her ears. There is no mosquito coil. Gaps between the wooden planks are not filled with mud or grass, so wind blows through the cracks, carrying a fishy stench into the house.
Late at night, when all is quiet, the sound of waves crashing against the reefs disturbs her thoughts.
At dawn, Tana steps outside to walk and observe the village layout.
Not many stilt houses stand on the beach. Judging by the boats, fewer than thirty families live here. Bamboo frames rest on the sand, drying seaweed. Some spread directly on the ground. That is where the fishy smell comes from.
The tide begins to rise, and villagers set out to sea.
Several villagers approach the teenager, pull him aside, and whisper.
“We wondered why you asked for wine yesterday. So this is why.”
The teenager looks embarrassed and scratches his head.
“She seems capable of work, but think, she is not a fisherman, not like us. You understand? Send her away soon. Take some boat money and bring back rice. Be careful not to bring us trouble.”
The teenager returns to Tana.
“What did they say to you?” she asks.
“I told them you are going to the world’s end—and I am your boatman.” The teenager speaks plainly, then grows shy and changes the subject. “They all wonder why you would travel to such a distant place.”
Tana does not answer. Instead, she asks, “Are you speaking Minnan?”
“Everyone in Fan Village speaks Minnan, same as in town.”
“Where did you learn Mandarin?”
“What is Mandarin?”
Tana blinks in surprise. “It is what we are speaking now.”
The teenager’s face clears. “So this is Mandarin! I never studied it formally. I just know it. Maybe because people in town speak it. I heard it often enough and picked it up.”
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The two board the boat. The youth unties the mooring rope, and the small vessel slowly pulls away from the shore.
The boat is about sixteen feet long, with no roof. They sit facing each other.
Tana remains wary of the Chai Dao at the teenager’s feet.
"Why do you always carry that knife? Is it special?"
"We go fishing. Sometimes we cook outside. A knife is handy." The teenager pauses, then says, "This knife has been left by my father."
"Can I see it?"
"Of course."
He hands her the knife and continues, "My father went fishing with the villagers. He never come back."
The teenager looks sad.
Yes, the sea is vast. Countless souls never come back, and no one finds it strange.
The teenager turns his face away and looks at the sea. "That day, he ran into a storm unlike any before. The villagers who made it back told me the waves were higher than mountains— they could see them from a hundred miles away."
The Chai Dao is seven inches long. They stand two steps apart. If she takes one step forward and swings her arm, she could slit the teenager's throat.
"One day, I will sail a windship and find that giant wave."
The teenager looks young, but his words are mature. He may not have great strength, but he has the courage to challenge the gods. Someone like that must be a true warrior.
"If that's the case..." she lowers the knife. "let's go together."
She sees wild waves in the teenager's eyes.
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The boat reaches the shore— they have arrived at the legendary End of the Earth.
"Earth’s Edge" and "Sea’s Corner"— two giant rocks stand towering between heaven and earth. Here, the land is almost barren. Standing there, facing the boundless ocean, one feels as if they are at the end of the world.
"Actually, this isn't the true land's end. Keep going south, there's Gemstone Island. Past that, you can reach outside the world."
"Have you been there?"
"No, but I've heard people say there's a Peach Blossom Land there."
Tana has heard of lands outside the world, but a place called Peach Blossom Land probably doesn't exist.
The teenager gazes at the sea, full of longing.
"This world is far bigger than you imagine." He says.
Tana feels this phrase is familiar, as if she has heard it before.
"My name is Haifeng."
"Does it mean the sea's wind?"
"Yes. And your name?"
"...Tana."
Tana's hands sweat easily. To stop her hands from slipping, she wraps cloth around the knife handle. This hides the green agate in it. She does not know this green agate belongs to the demon god Mangus.
Thousands of years ago, the demon god Mangus, stripped of his power, sleeps at the bottom of Hulun Lake. One day, a love across time cames quietly. It wakes this demon god. The moment the seal breaks, the whole world shanks, yet no one feels it.
Sensing the gem's tremor, Mangus bursts from the lakebed, churns the water, charges into the sky, and plunges into the clouds. He smells the last trace of the stone's essence and races toward the world's end.
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