In the afternoon, as the sun sank behind the hills, the fishing fleet returning from the sea slowly made its way back toward land.
Shen Mingsong sat at the bow, watching the hull cleave through the vast expanse of water and send up sprays of waves. The engine roared in his ears. From afar, he could already see several children on the shore waving their arms.
Daytime fishing offered a wide field of vision and was relatively safer, but it meant enduring the blazing sun all day. After hours of exposure, his body temperature ran high. His lips were cracked, and he tilted his head back to gulp down the last mouthful of water from his flask.
Switching from the fishing boat to a small skiff to reach shore, he finally made out who was waiting there.
As soon as Tao Shu landed, Tao Dongdong threw herself at him. He handed her a strikingly red piece of coral he had salvaged from the sea, bringing it back especially for his daughter to play with.
Song Erya stood nearby, watching eagerly. One of her braids had come loose, her hair falling to one side, her face smudged with dirt.
She looked pitiful.
The glow of the setting sun was largely blocked by a figure stepping in front of her. Small and slight, Song Erya was swallowed by the shadow as she looked up at Shen Mingsong. She smelled the salty, fishy scent of seawater—
and a faint trace of blood.
At this age, in the future, even a small injury would have parents fussing over him, yet he, like Song Fang, had taken on the family burden young, the weight pressing down on shoulders that had not yet fully grown.
The shadow of his straw hat covered most of his face. Only the large beads of sweat rolling down his neck were visible, his skin dehydrated from prolonged sun exposure.
Tao Dongdong complained to her father. Shen Mingsong caught the gist of it and lowered his eyes to look at Song Erya. Her fine lashes were still damp.
Getting into a fight and ending up crying—how useless.
Song Erya had no idea what he was thinking. Her gaze settled on his arm, and she spoke first. "Brother, your arm is bleeding."
Shen Mingsong lifted his arm to check. He had scraped it earlier while hauling in the nets and hadn't noticed. The skin was broken in a few places. He wiped the blood away, unconcerned.
"That little bastard Shen Xiaonian." Tao Shu walked over. He was tall, his skin dry and dark from years of sea wind. Seeing Song Erya's small, sorry state, he swallowed his curses and instead smiled. "Does it still hurt?"
Song Erya shook her head.
Children squabbling was nothing serious, so no one took it to heart. Tao Shu told Shen Mingsong to take the girl home with him—once it got dark, children weren't allowed to wander around the shore.
In the end, none of them managed to play at all. A whole day of homework had been for nothing.
Jiang Ling didn't dare follow them. She would rather go home alone than spend more time around Shen Mingsong. Song Erya, on the other hand, wasn't afraid. She ran under a tree to grab her little backpack, then trotted after him.
"Brother, wait for me." She hurried to keep up, reaching instinctively for the corner of his clothes. One of his strides equaled three of hers.
Shen Mingsong paused briefly, then continued walking.
The girl from next door had been particularly talkative lately, chattering nonstop along the way.
"Aren't you going to the hospital? Or... a clinic?" Song Erya knew there was one near Tidal Road.
"Doesn't it hurt?"
"Your arm is really still bleeding."
Almost no one had ever been this noisy around Shen Mingsong. Her voice was crisp, like birdsong heard at sea in the early morning.
She also walked slowly. Shen Mingsong considered ditching her halfway just to put an end to the racket.
To get home from here, they had to pass through a small grove. Several burial mounds rose among the bushes. When the wind blew, the rustling leaves sounded like ghostly wails. If the girl were left here, she would surely be frightened to tears.
He strode ahead, but after a while sensed something was wrong. When he turned around, she was gone.
Dusk was falling, and losing a child now would be troublesome. He couldn't afford that responsibility, so he went back to look for her. After walking more than ten meters, he saw tall weeds by the roadside shaking.
"What are you doing?" Shen Mingsong walked over and looked at the small figure moving in the grass. If it had been a boy, he would have kicked her backside.
Song Erya crawled out of the weeds, leaves stuck in her hair, clutching a handful of wrinkled wild grass. "Here."
Seeing his puzzled expression, she pointed at his arm, where blood was still welling up.
In her memory, this kind of wild grass had hemostatic properties. People back then were rough with injuries—either smearing spider silk mixed with plant ash over wounds, or using this kind of grass. Song Erya thought the grass at least looked more reliable.
When Shen Mingsong didn't take it, she wondered if she had picked the wrong plant.
His phoenix eyes flickered with a trace of surprise. He took the grass and tossed it aside. "I'm not that delicate."
Song Erya picked it back up and rubbed it hard until green juice seeped out, turning it into a mush. Without asking, she smeared it onto the cut on his arm.
Shen Mingsong pressed his lips together, feeling an unfamiliar sense of bewilderment.
It was just a minor scrape. It would clot on its own soon enough. He'd suffered far worse injuries before.
He didn't understand this child's behavior.
A healthy body had always been an unattainable luxury for Song Erya. Even the slightest illness filled her with panic.
Uncle Mingsong had donated large sums to temples, praying for her health and long life.
She brushed the residue off her hands. "All right. Let's go home."
~
Song Erya had never been this poor before. In her dreams, money rained down, and she filled sack after sack in wild excitement—until she rolled over and fell off the bed.
"Hiss."
The moon outside was bright. Rubbing her sore backside, she woke completely. She reached for a flashlight and shone it on the red square alarm clock. The hands pointed to a little past five.
It was almost time for her appointment with Tao Dongdong.
She washed up quietly and slipped out. Tao Dongdong had already been waiting at her door for some time. The two of them were plotting a grand undertaking.
Song Erya was more interested in playing than making money—she had never experienced beachcombing before.
She had snuck out before Song Fang woke up. Tao Dongdong had also slipped out without telling her family. Jiang Ling wasn't allowed to go, so it was just the two of them. They agreed to split whatever they found evenly.
Song Erya thought this would put Tao Dongdong at a disadvantage—how could she compare to someone truly raised by the sea?
Tao Dongdong, easygoing as ever, didn't mind. "It's nothing. We don't even know if we'll find anything good. Let's just do it first."
When they reached the shore, they saw Shen Mingsong sitting by a makeshift shack used by fishermen for rest. A massive fishing net hung from a wooden frame as he cleaned small fish tangled in it.
"Where's my dad?" Tao Dongdong asked.
"Went to the cargo dock," Shen Mingsong replied. He had gone squid fishing with Tao Shu the night before and had just returned that morning. A night of labor left him sluggish, his voice lazy. "You snuck out to the shore again—and even brought someone."
Hearing that her father wasn't there, Tao Dongdong relaxed. She ran into the shack to fetch buckets, rakes, and small shovels, then explained their plan to Shen Mingsong.
"You want to make money?" Shen Mingsong's gaze fell on Song Erya's childish frame. She looked like someone raised with care—hardly capable of enduring hardship. His disdain was obvious. "Don't get swept away by the waves."
Tao Dongdong could run, jump, and swim like a water sprite. What could Song Erya do?
"Don't judge by appearances," Song Erya muttered. She wasn't confident, but she couldn't lose in spirit.
The sky was only just brightening, the air damp as if soaked in water. Several large fishing boats were docked at the harbor. Adults were already busy, and many children like them had come to beachcomb, hoping to earn some pocket money or school fees during the summer.
Fishermen's children grew up early. At a time when most families were still far from comfortable, they learned to toil for a living at an age when they should have been coddled in their mothers' arms.
If adults saw children wandering into dangerous areas, they would shout and drive them away. Song Erya and Tao Dongdong each took a bucket and split up. Song Erya watched her surroundings carefully—if no one scolded her, it meant she was still in a safe zone.
She had watched plenty of beachcombing videos before, where people seemed to find big hauls every few steps.
Wearing flip-flops, her feet sank into wet sand, making it hard to walk. Anything exposed on the surface had already been picked up by earlier arrivals. She couldn't find what was hidden.
Tao Dongdong taught her how to spot holes and small sand mounds where creatures might be hiding, but all Song Erya found were sea snails and clams.
So those bloggers really were lying—how could it be that easy?
"Song Yao, look!"
Tao Dongdong held up a big shrimp from far away, waving it proudly.
All right... if you're bad at something, you just need more practice.
Driven by stubborn competitiveness, Song Erya wandered toward the rockier area where resources were richer, unaware of the gaze following her from behind.
Shen Mingsong occasionally checked to make sure she wasn't heading into deep water.
The sun gradually rose above the sea. Morning light and mist blurred around her. The little girl hopped excitedly when she picked up a large fish washed ashore, only to droop in disappointment the next moment and fling the dead fish away.
After all that effort, her bucket was still pitifully empty.
Just as expected—a little idiot.
Shen Mingsong walked over, scanned the meager contents of her bucket, and let out a soft laugh.
Song Erya's ears caught it. She widened her eyes—she was being laughed at.
"This isn't fun at all. There's nothing here." She bent down and rinsed the dead-fish smell off her hands in the seawater.
Shen Mingsong squatted, pried up a rock, and revealed a palm-sized sea turtle underneath.
"A turtle!" Song Erya lit up. Finally, something other than shellfish. Afraid it would get away, she lunged forward and grabbed it without thinking.
The turtle wasn't afraid at all. It twisted its long neck around and bit her, making her yelp and flail her hand in pain.
The bite force of that seemingly harmless creature was astonishing. Tiny teeth sank into her flesh. The turtle was more dangerous than Shen Xiaonian.
It hurt terribly. She couldn't suppress the cry in her throat. "Ow, it hurts, it hurts!"
"Idiot." Shen Mingsong was genuinely exasperated by her stupidity. He frowned at her tear-blurred eyes. The little girl's lips were puckered, her brows knitted together in pure misery. He swallowed his sarcasm.
"Don't provoke it."
He held her hand and submerged it in the water. Once the turtle floated free and felt safe, it released its grip and paddled away happily.
A red bite mark remained on Song Erya's finger, but the skin wasn't broken. She sucked in air, tears streaming.
It hurt so much.
An only child, Shen Mingsong had never dealt with a little sister's tears. He coldly spat out three words: "Don't cry."
Song Erya stopped crying, rubbed her hand, then pointed at the now-empty space under the rock. "My turtle ran away!"
"Catch another one."
Her lashes trembled, leftover tears rolling down. If Uncle Mingsong had been here, she wouldn't have been bitten by a turtle.
With utter justification, she said, "Brother, help me catch one."
In Shen Mingsong's dark eyes was reflected the image of a little girl with reddened eyes. It was the first time a girl had ever acted coquettishly toward him.
Useless, thick-skinned, and spoiled to the core.
***
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