After Yang Xiao finished speaking, he no longer responded to me. He walked toward the center of the sea where the most corpses floated. No matter how much I shouted, he gave no reply.
In the pouring rain, a white-haired man walked on the surface of the sea, step by step approaching the area dotted with hundreds of corpses. Occasional lightning flickered in the distance; the flashes illuminated the sea, making the eerie scene even more surreal. When Yang Xiao reached several corpses drifting on the outskirts, those corpses slowly parted, clearing a path. He kept walking forward steadily, soon approaching the very center of the dead.
At this moment, the three brothers — Ximen Lian and his two comrades — came out of the cabin wearing crew raincoats. Ximen Lian handed me a raincoat and looked at Yang Xiao's distant back, saying, "Lazi, do you really think Yang Xiao can handle going there alone? Honestly, I respect his skills. But lately, all the Yangs have had bad luck. Don't end up walking into an ambush…"
When he mentioned Yang Xiao's bad luck, I was already worried. It seemed since facing Lin Feng, Yang Xiao's luck had turned sour. Things started out fine, but somehow always ended in disaster. It's not so much that Yang Xiao's arts countered Lin Feng's, but rather Lin Feng was Yang Xiao's nemesis in life.
"I'll go help Yang Xiao. You guys keep watch over the ship for a couple of hours. Sun Daseng will be here soon with reinforcements." My words shocked the three. Old Mo's eyes widened as he said, "Lazi, don't be reckless. Think it through: if Yang Xiao can handle it, then even without you, he'll solve it. But if he can't, it's no good for you either."
Ximen Lian and Xiong Wanyi also tried to persuade me. But I was determined. Holding the Blades of Sin and Retribution in my hands, and with my special white-haired constitution, even if I couldn't help much, at least I could protect myself.
Seeing my resolve, Old Mo suddenly changed his tone: "How do you plan to get there? By driving the ship? Lazi, don't even think about it. There are still dozens of people on this ship, and it's lucky the captain could keep the ship here. Do you really expect him to drive it over?"
"There's a way." I wiped rain off my face and pointed to a speedboat tied to the big ship's stern. "I'll take this. Don't worry — I'll circle around outside. If things go wrong, I'll be back right away."
Thanks to Xiong Wanyi's earlier help — after he threw the speedboat into the sea, the captain had someone tie it to the main ship's tail, and it had been drifting there ever since. Unexpectedly, it was useful now.
Fearing they'd keep stopping me, I slid down along the rope securing the speedboat. Luckily, my special forces training helped — although that kind of skill was never my strong suit, I wobbled my way onto the boat.
Standing on the speedboat, I suddenly remembered I didn't actually know how to operate it and was too embarrassed to ask the crew. In the end, relying on faint memories of seeing Captain Wang Donghui operate a similar boat during swimming training years ago, I fiddled with the controls. To my surprise, the engine roared to life. Then I headed straight toward Yang Xiao's back.
When the speedboat had about half the distance left to Yang Xiao, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky. Yang Xiao glanced upward, then suddenly seemed to miss a step. He stumbled and fell straight into the deep sea.
Old Mo was right — Yang Xiao really did get into trouble! Clenching my teeth, I prepared to risk everything to try to save him when the scene suddenly changed.
As Yang Xiao fell into the sea, the area's waters began boiling and churning violently, bubbles rising nonstop. The corpses floating on the surface writhed and flipped like dumplings tossed into boiling water. After about ten seconds, a massive whirlpool appeared centered on where Yang Xiao had disappeared.
I dared not take the risk. I immediately reversed the speedboat, speeding away in the opposite direction of the whirlpool. Once out of its reach, I stopped, turned, and looked back.
As the whirlpool spun faster and faster, nearly all the corpses floating on the sea's surface were sucked into its center. Suddenly, the whirlpool plunged downward, dragging all the corpses to the seabed. The sea surface instantly calmed, the heavy rain gradually ceased, and the dark clouds began to dissipate. Soon, sunlight shone down again.
If I hadn't witnessed it myself, I wouldn't have believed the weather could change so drastically in such a short time.
Planning to steer the speedboat around the outer edge of the whirlpool to search for Yang Xiao, I suddenly spotted a huge yacht approaching along the southern horizon.
With my heightened awareness, I realized I hadn't noticed when the yacht had appeared. If not for that accidental glance, I probably wouldn't have detected it even when it got close. A faint thought crossed my mind — maybe the yacht wanted me to see it.
The yacht sailed forward, stopping near where Yang Xiao had gone under. Several figures could be seen on deck, apparently looking toward me.
At this distance, I clearly saw the yacht was far larger than the one owned by Ma Xiaolin, which I'd seen during a trip to Hong Kong. Compared to that, Ma's yacht was a small rowboat.
This yacht had three decks—upper, middle, and lower—at least four to five times the size of Ma Xiaolin's. Even more impressive than its lavish appearance was the helicopter moored at its stern.
Unsure why this yacht had appeared, I cautiously circled it in the speedboat. As I drew closer, my vision sharpened, revealing that the people on deck were foreigners: men and women, some blonde-haired and blue-eyed Europeans, others dark-skinned Africans.
Just as I was wondering if they were Lin Feng's aides, two more people appeared on the yacht's deck — one old, one young — both Chinese-looking. The others respectfully made way for them at the ship's railing.
The old man's age was hard to tell. His face was weathered and wrinkled like dried orange peel. Most of his hair was gone, leaving only a small patch of silver-white hair on the center of his forehead. He walked with a heavy sway, as if death could come at any moment.
The boy was about seven or eight years old, with a shaved head. He wore only an orange vest and shorts and stood barefoot on deck, looking toward me.
I don't know if he meant for me to overhear, but when he spoke to the old man next to him, every word was clear in my ears: "I say, old bastard, is this idiot really the guy Wu Mian sent?"
The old man called "old bastard" didn't get angry. He chuckled softly and leaned on the ship railing, replying, "That's definitely him. Wu Mian is really letting things slide—he even cheapened the seed for that fool."