The sea breeze gently brushed past as Zhao Changhe lay languidly on the deck, gazing at the blue sky and white clouds, taking small sips from his wine gourd.
Although one could say he had been through the wringer, with unpredictable storms looming ahead, it was on this kind of journey that he paradoxically found a rare form of leisure. Perhaps this was the greatest difference from the past.
It was a pity that he couldn't travel together with Chichi in the end.
She had headed directly to Langya's seaport to take a legitimate route out to sea, which Zhao Changhe couldn't do; he needed to head south to Ningbo.
