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墨書 Inktalez
After the seventh day, the island's clamor returned to tranquility. The Song Jiu team reached an agreement with The Establishment's recruitment squad, resolving a series of lingering issues, and finally set out on their journey once more.
On a sunny morning, the Coast was bustling with crowds. Led by Qian Wanguo, the Islanders gathered spontaneously to bid farewell. The newly formed Militia stood guard on both sides of the Coast, carrying the remaining firearms. Men and women assisted in loading supplies needed for the journey onto the yacht, creating a scene that was chaotic yet orderly, with voices hushed.
Fang Fei stood at the ship's railing, gazing at the Islanders she had spent three years with, feeling an overwhelming sense of reluctance.
The mangroves swayed in the wind as if waving goodbye. The Stilt House faded behind Lin Ye, its full form obscured; small wooden houses and lush Saddle Vines formed a line across most of the Living Area, connecting distantly to the Island Kitchen. Further away, the mountains and forests remained verdant, contrasting against the blue sky and deep sea, resembling a painted scroll.
Cao Zheng climbed into the cockpit and looked out over the resting place, reaching out to sound the horn.
“Woo~ Woo~ Woo~”
The sea breeze stirred ripples in circles; the flags at the bow fluttered in the wind. The people on deck moved gracefully, their clothes billowing as they made sounds like whispers. The stern churned up water and spray as mooring lines were untied and the propeller began to turn slowly, pushing the yacht away from the Coast. Chilly splashes hit Song Jiu's face, washing away the heaviness in her chest. She squinted her eyes, watching as the Coast gradually transformed into a thin line, and the crowd onshore disappeared from view, completely merging into the horizon where sea met sky.
“Let’s go back,” Song Jiu said softly.
“Mm.” Fang Fei nodded, wiping away tears from her eyes with her fingertips before turning to head toward the cabin.
The weather was beautiful; it was calm and peaceful—perfect for sailing and embarking on a journey.
The deck felt somewhat desolate. Once lively at the stern, today it was just her alone. As she passed by a pile of safety ropes, Song Jiu spotted a mahjong tile tucked away in a corner. The tile lay face down, surrounded by dried water stains; its green back was covered in dust.
Song Jiu stood still for a moment, lightly rubbing her fingers over the tile's surface while silently reciting “Southeast Wind.” With a flick of her wrist, a tile marked with “Wealth” appeared before her eyes.
Song Jiu chuckled softly to herself, slipped the mahjong tile into her pocket, and moved toward the bow of the ship.
Second Deck Control Room had been stripped of something during the last storm.
“Are you sick?” Song Jiu asked a pointless question, picking up the open packet of pills from the edge of the table, the name a string of incomprehensible scientific terms.
“I’m fine, just caught a bit of a cold from the wind a couple of days ago,” Huihui replied, his voice somewhat hoarse, his complexion not looking good. He was covered with a blanket, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.
Natalia pointed at the packet of medicine on the table, gestured with two fingers, then pointed at Huihui, mumbling a string of words.
“What do you mean by taking two pills?” Song Jiu asked in confusion.
Natalia paused for a moment, realizing that Song Jiu probably didn’t understand her. She frowned and thought for a while, unsure how to explain. Finally, she could only shake her head helplessly, touch her chest, and softly say, “Fine.”
Upon hearing this, Song Jiu relaxed. He had misunderstood earlier; Barbie Doll meant that she had already given Huihui two doses of medicine and that everything was fine.
Their communication had always been a significant issue. Song Jiu felt that his lack of language talent was understandable since he had been a poor student before the disaster. However, it puzzled him that Natalia, who couldn’t speak English, held such a high position as a prosecutor. Given her age, she should have been an academic achiever to reach such a role.
“I’m really fine; I feel much better after taking the medicine,” Huihui said, not wanting everyone to fuss over him. He propped himself up and forced a smile onto his pale face. “It’s just an ordinary cold.”
“Yeah, take your medicine on time, rest more, and drink plenty of water.” For someone outside the medical field, all ailments could be resolved with sleep and hydration.
As long as someone was looking after him, it was fine. Natalia, having nothing to do herself, was more than willing to help out. Song Jiu, unable to offer much assistance, gave a few reminders before leaving the Sleeper Cabin. He wandered around aimlessly for a while, feeling an inexplicable sense of disorientation about what he should do next.
“Sigh.” Song Jiu sighed quietly as he walked down the corridor without any particular destination in mind. He paused when passing by Wu Wentao Sleeper Cabin, intending to go in for a bit but then remembered that Old Wu was catching up on sleep and decided it wouldn’t be appropriate to disturb him.
The Leisure Lounge continued to resonate with pleasant Piano Pieces. The crew members chatted or sat quietly, enjoying the rare tranquility. Some noticed him and smiled while nodding in greeting before returning to their own affairs; everything felt natural yet strangely out of place.
Song Jiu knew that this was his own problem. The people around him had gradually diminished, and the seemingly calm days had increased. He once thought that being away from the Zombies would be a dream come true, but at this moment, he realized that without those Zombies urging time to pass, he had become a Zombie himself.
A sense of unease grew in his heart, spreading wildly from the tip of his heart to his entire body, as if his blood flow was about to be blocked.
In the past, he found Jiao Ziqian noisy and Lin Daozhang talkative. Now, he longed for such people around him again, to continue chattering endlessly and sharing many amusing anecdotes he had never heard before.
Song Jiu went to the bar and fetched two bottles of alcohol, cradling them in his arms. He walked past the vibrant crowd and returned alone to the Sleeper Cabin. Gazing out of the Porthole at the Sea Surface, he planned to raise a toast to his own reflection.
However, this could not fill the emptiness in his heart. It felt as if he had a heart ailment; upon smelling the wine, memories of Ming Junwei, who always had a drink in hand, flooded his mind. Tasting the alcohol brought forth visions of Jin Bo, who would often act drunkenly.
The transparent Porthole refracted the dazzling sunlight, allowing him to catch a glimpse of his own face. It had been a long time since he looked in a mirror; it seemed that traces of hardship had appeared on his face, yet he could not discern which were marks left by time. In a daze, that face transformed into Liu Yan's—forever expressionless, occasionally curling into a cold and indifferent smile. Rubbing his face to change his mood, his features shifted again. Song Jiu felt as if he had returned to that dark study room, staring at the ink-blackness before him, quietly awaiting death's arrival.
Song Jiu felt somewhat frantic, unable to understand why these people filled his mind or when he had become so lonely.
With each cup of wine downed, the sound of music faded away. Those lost faces blurred and overlapped before him; fatigue washed over him as the world spun around him.
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