Only after the ferry left the shore did Shen Zhiyi realize just how severely she suffered from seasickness.
The air in the lower cabin was so thick and foul it was suffocating. The stench of fish, the sharp bite of diesel, and the sour reek of vomit mixed together and fermented in the enclosed space.
The iron hull pitched violently with the waves, each lurch threatening to toss her insides out of place. Beneath her feet, the diesel engine roared, its vibrations numbing the soles of her feet.
She huddled on a wooden bench in the corner, clutching her faded blue cloth bundle tightly to her chest. The woodworking plane inside pressed painfully against her ribs, yet it was the only thing grounding her. The cabin was crowded, mostly with farmers heading to the county market, along with a few unfamiliar faces like her, bound for the island.
“Ugh—”
A middle aged man across from her finally could not hold it in any longer and vomited onto the floor. The sour smell spread instantly. Shen Zhiyi’s stomach churned violently, and she hurriedly covered her mouth.
“First time on a boat, girl?”
A gentle female voice sounded beside her. Shen Zhiyi turned her head and saw a woman in her early thirties looking at her. She wore a faded blue blouse, her short hair neatly combed. There was weariness in her face, but her eyes were warm.
“Yes,” Shen Zhiyi answered softly, forcing down the nausea.
The woman took out a military canteen from her cloth bag, unscrewed the cap, and handed it over. “Drink some ginger soup. It will help settle your stomach.”
After a brief hesitation, Shen Zhiyi accepted it. The warm liquid slid down her throat, spicy with a hint of sweetness, and the churning in her stomach eased slightly.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The woman smiled and took the canteen back. “You’re so young, going to the fishing island all by yourself?”
Shen Zhiyi nodded, saying nothing more.
“I’m going to Naozhou Island to find my husband,” the woman said on her own, a mix of anticipation and faint worry in her eyes. “He’s stationed there with the island troops and hasn’t come home for two years. This time the organization approved family visits, so I was finally allowed to go.”
The ferry lurched again, the engine letting out a harsh roar. Shen Zhiyi gripped the wooden bench tightly, her knuckles turning white.
“Does the boat… always rock like this?”
“This is just the beginning.” The woman sighed. “We still have to pass through a windy stretch before reaching Naozhou Island. The waves there are much bigger. Which island are you heading to?”
“The fishing island in the South China Sea.” Shen Zhiyi hesitated, then added, “The Zhao family… it should be Zhao Family Village.”
The woman paused, then studied her more closely. “Zhao Family Village? That’s the fishing village along the eastern shore of Naozhou Island. You’re going there too…”
“Visit relatives,” Shen Zhiyi cut in quickly, her voice lowering.
The woman seemed to understand something. A trace of sympathy appeared in her eyes, but she did not press further. The cabin fell into a brief silence, filled only with the roar of the engine and the relentless pounding of waves against the hull.
“Oh right, once you get to the island, if you run into trouble, you can look for the troops,” the woman said, breaking the silence. “There’s a Comrade Zhou stationed there. He’s a bit peculiar, but he has a good heart. The fishermen on the island all respect him.”
Shen Zhiyi’s heart stirred slightly. “Comrade Zhou?”
“Zhou Xubai.” When the woman spoke his name, there was clear respect in her tone. “A battle hero, awarded first class merit. Later he injured his leg and was reassigned to the island.”
“His leg… injured?” Shen Zhiyi asked softly.
“Yes, blown off.” The woman lowered her voice, as if telling a legend. “My husband said it happened long ago. Zhou Xubai was a reconnaissance company commander leading a mission when he stepped on an enemy landmine. He could have jumped away, but there was a new recruit beside him who froze in fear. Zhou Xubai rushed over and shoved him aside, but he was just a moment too slow…”
She shook her head. “One leg was gone on the spot. They fought to save him in the hospital for three days and nights. His life was saved, but the leg could not be reattached, so it had to be amputated.”
Shen Zhiyi listened in a daze. Wang Xiulan’s sharp voice echoed again in her ears from earlier that morning—
“A crippled younger brother.”
“A ruined leg.”
“Can’t find a wife.”
So it was not something he was born with. This was how it happened.
“Is he… living alone now?” she asked cautiously.
“Yes, alone on the reef cliffs at the western end of the island,” the woman replied. “His personality is a bit strange. He doesn’t talk much and keeps to himself. But whenever the villagers need help, he never refuses. Last year during a typhoon, a fishing boat ran aground. He went into the sea with a crutch and helped drag it back. He even came down with a high fever afterward and stayed in the clinic for half a month.”
Suddenly, the cabin tilted violently. People cried out in alarm. Shen Zhiyi nearly slipped off the bench, but the woman grabbed her in time.
“Hold on!”
The iron ferry tossed like a leaf on the waves. The roar of the engine turned into a desperate howl, while the hull creaked and groaned under the strain. Through the porthole, Shen Zhiyi saw that the sky outside had turned completely dark. Torrential rain lashed against the glass like whips.
“A storm is coming!” someone shouted.
The lights in the cabin flickered, then went out with a sharp snap. Darkness swallowed everything, leaving only the dying roar of the engine and the furious bellow of wind and waves.
Fear unlike anything she had ever felt surged through Shen Zhiyi. This fear was different from the one she felt when Wang Xiulan forced her into marriage. That fear had been cold, a slow seeping despair that crept into her bones. This one was hot, violent, and overwhelming, as if it would tear her apart.
“Ugh—”
She finally could not hold it back and vomited. Her stomach was empty, leaving only bitter fluid that burned her throat. The woman patted her back steadily and handed her the canteen again.
“Take small sips, don’t rush.”
Shen Zhiyi’s hands trembled as she accepted it. The ginger soup had gone cold, but its sharpness remained. She managed a few gulps, only to throw half of it back up.
The ferry tilted even more violently. Children cried, women screamed, men cursed. The entire world seemed to sway, spin, and collapse. Shen Zhiyi squeezed her eyes shut, yet fragments of memory flashed through her mind—
Her father was lying in the coffin, pale and still.
Her mother’s departing figure, carrying her bundle and never looking back.
Her brother’s trembling hands as he pressed the handkerchief bundle into hers, along with the words, “Don’t mistreat yourself…”
Then, in the darkness, a pair of eyes.
Darker than the night, deeper than the sea. A figure standing straight as a pine, leaning on a crutch.
A battle hero. A leg lost in an explosion. A life saved.
An eccentric personality. A solitary home on the reef cliffs. A man who dragged boats back from the sea during a typhoon.
These fragments swirled in her dizzy mind, yet they could not form a complete image.
What of it, if he was a hero?
A hero could save others, but could he save himself?
“Hold on, we’re almost there.” The woman’s voice sounded by her ear, pulling her back from the chaos.
Shen Zhiyi opened her eyes. Someone in the cabin had lit a kerosene lamp, its dim yellow glow illuminating a small patch of space and the pale faces around her. She must look the same, she thought.
“Look,” the woman pointed out the porthole, “that’s Naozhou Island.”