Deep Sea Embers Chapter 272: Turning to the North

Duncan paused momentarily in assisting Alice with the residual glue as though he was intently listening to a distant sound. After some time, he lowered his head once more and used a soft cloth to remove debris from the table.

Alice blinked curiously, gazing at the captain: “Cap-cap-captain, what-what-what just happened?”

“Morris received a letter from a distant friend, and he’s uncertain about the situation it describes,” Duncan replied with a smile, continuing to help Alice with the layer of residual glue on her neck joint. “He asked for my assistance in assessing the situation.”

“Distant fri-friend?” Alice’s head stuttered on the navigation table, “Is-is-is there danger? Do we need to-to-to rescue them?”

There was little glue left on the neck joint, and it was much easier to clean than the recessed head joint. Duncan quickly removed the dried glue, carefully completed the final wipe, and then bent down to hold Alice’s head, gently returning her to her original position as if she were a delicate piece of art.

“We might be going to rescue them,” he whispered, rotating the puppet’s head from side to side, “but it’s also possible that we’ll help them find peace. Either way, we must travel to a far-off place.”

As the puppet’s head was secured, Alice’s previously dull eyes became lively. She gently shook her head as if a soul had entered the wooden puppet, and her speech became fluid again: “Ah, where are we headed?”

Duncan put away the cleaning supplies and examined the foggy sea chart.

On the chart, the small light representing the Sea Mist was slowly moving, already far from Pland.

“North,” he murmured, his gaze focusing on the goat head, “Raise the jib and the foresail, turn northward—follow the Sea Mist.”

“Aye, Captain!”

…

Heidi placed the small brown bottle on the coffee table – around three-fifths of the transparent medicine was visible inside. The liquid reflected a faint golden light in the waning sunset, and within the shimmering golden circles, tiny bubbles seemed to continuously separate and dance near the surface.

“This is the final dose, more potent than the medicine you’ve taken previously. You can take it when you set sail, just three drops each time—of course, I also recommend starting now,” Miss Psychiatrist lifted her head, gazing at the white-haired old captain before her. “As a captain who has spent half a lifetime on the Boundless Sea, you should be more mindful of your health.”

“Thank you for your advice, Miss Heidi. I understand my situation,” Lawrence responded without impatience or excessive enthusiasm. Instead, he curiously picked up the bottle, examining the constantly bubbling liquid through the glass in the sunlight. “… A beautiful potion. Does it taste bitter?”

“It will be somewhat bitter but with a more prominent herbal aroma. I’ve also added honey to mask the bitterness,” Heidi explained. “It won’t be difficult to swallow.”

As she spoke, she glanced at the sky outside the window.

The sun was slowly setting, casting a slightly orange-red light through the glass window into the living room.

This was Captain Lawrence’s home away from the White Oak. As an experienced old captain, he had arranged numerous displays in the living room that showcased his sailing adventures: coral specimens gathered from shallow waters near the shore, models of ship’s wheels and ships, totem decorations from far-flung city-states, and a large shelf against the wall filled with awards and mementos from the Explorers Association, city-state authorities, and the four major churches.

Now, these emblems of glory and memory were bathed in the slanting sunlight, covered in a golden hue, and gradually fading in the radiance.

It was time to depart, as the setting sun was not conducive to continuing psychological assistance.

“I should be going,” Heidi sighed softly as she stood from the sofa, her eyes resting on the medicine bottle in Lawrence’s hand, “Please remember to take the medicine – it can effectively help you withstand the mental strain of the Boundless Sea.”

“Thank you, you’ve already been a great help,” the white-haired Lawrence also rose, wearing a genuine smile, “Allow me to walk you out.”

Heidi was escorted to the door by the old captain, but before leaving, she couldn’t resist taking one last look at Lawrence and said, “I have one final piece of advice – although your current condition is still considered favorable among captains your age, you have truly reached the age of retirement, and you should think about entrusting the White Oak to a reliable successor.”

Having expressed her thoughts, she didn’t anticipate a response from the old captain and instead politely bowed in farewell. Heidi soon got into her car that was parked at the intersection, leaving Lawrence to sigh and return to his living room. Here, the old captain’s wife stood nearby, leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed and looking somewhat displeased.

She was a very tall woman, and although age had caught up with her, one could still see remnants of her youthful elegance; standing there, she resembled the famed female explorer on the Boundless Sea from years past.

But now, the explorer’s mood was less than stellar.

“Day after day, if it’s not a church review, it’s a mental health physician visiting. Just what kind of trouble did you find out there?” she glared, her voice raised, “And what’s with that medicine bottle – you never mentioned that your mental state had declined to the point where you need medication to maintain it.”

“I didn’t ask to encounter that ghost ship,” Lawrence glanced at the medicine bottle in his hand and shook his head helplessly, “But now it’s fine; the entire city-state has faced the Vanished, so no one cares about what happened to the White Oak. As for this medicine… it’s nothing; after all, being at sea for extended periods, one might occasionally experience hallucinations and illusions.”

His wife didn’t join the conversation; she simply stared intently at him for a while before sighing, “Aren’t you planning to retire?”

“I want to keep searching…” Lawrence said with some hesitation, “After all… there was no definitive news of death back then…”

“You’re going to die doing this!” his wife’s voice escalated, pointing at Lawrence’s nose, “What do you think amounts to death? After a storm, if a ship veers off course and its crew loses contact, that’s the same as death! Do you understand?”

“You look at yourself; how many years have you spent searching? You’ve long surpassed the retirement age, and those captains who started with you, the sensible ones, have already retired. At least now they can enjoy the savings they’ve accumulated over half their lives. Those who lack sense are stubborn like you, and what’s become of them now? Drooling in bed? Lying in the graveyard? Locked up in a madhouse?”

“I suggest you take this medicine now, then go straight to handle the transfer tomorrow. Pass the White Oak on to a trustworthy person you’ve mentored from a young age, and honestly go home and live out the rest of your days on a pension. Don’t wait until one day you die in some storm. I can’t bear that burden…”

Listening to his wife’s increasingly stern reprimands, Lawrence just smiled mildly without arguing. In the end, he placed the small brown medicine bottle on the tea table: “Let’s search one last time.”

His wife finally stopped, staring at the medicine bottle on the tea table. After an unknown amount of time, she sighed with lingering anger and muttered as if resigned: “Where are you going to search this time?”

“North,” Lawrence said calmly, “the original place where the ‘Black Oak’ encountered the storm. I just accepted an escort mission to Frost…”

His wife didn’t say anything, she just silently waved her hand.

…

The morning sun spread across the streets, and Pland was gradually awakening from a night of deep slumber.

Vanna bent down and stepped out of the car, squinting slightly in the sunlight. At the end of her sight was the familiar sign of the antique shop she had visited once.

The shop was already open. A thin, black-haired, black-skirted girl was sprinkling water at the door, and another girl of similar age was hanging the “open for business” sign on the door.

If she remembered correctly, the two girls were named Shirley and Nina—the latter being the shop owner’s niece.

Vanna rubbed her forehead, recalling the last time she visited the antique shop. For some reason, she felt that some details were quite hazy when she remembered them now.

This only reinforced her determination to take a look today.

The voice of her subordinate came from the car: “How long will you be away?”

“Within an hour,” Vanna replied. “Just wait here.”

“Alright,” the young guard responsible for driving nodded in the car but still reminded her worriedly, “Please be mindful of the time. Today is the day the Grand Storm Cathedral arrives in Pland. You need to personally attend the welcoming ceremony. Bishop Valentine specifically reminded us. Also, this visit wasn’t in our schedule…”

“Alright, alright, you’ve already nagged about it several times,” Vanna waved her hand, looking somewhat helpless. “I know everyone is on edge about the Grand Storm Cathedral’s arrival; I will pay attention to the time.”

“…Okay, I’ll wait here for you.”