Chapter 283: Let It Go

Zeyu watched the last drops fall into the tool case while Hanchuan stood beside his seat.

Beyond them, rain still darkened a broad stretch of water. It looked close enough to reach, and he found himself leaning forward as though that would help him judge the distance.

"We can try to get back under it," Zeyu said, keeping his hand on the throttle. "But I’ll have to bring us around slowly. I don’t want to hit those waves any harder than we already are."

Hanchuan looked toward the open compartment, where Shichen was checking the rope around the board.

"Tell us if the patch shifts," he called before turning back to Zeyu. "Take us toward it. We need more than what’s in that case."

Zeyu waited until everyone had something to hold, then began the turn.

The boat rolled enough to make the loose tools slide across the seat, and Qinghe caught them against his thigh.

Zhiyi lowered the case into her lap, protecting its shallow puddle with one hand while Hanchuan steadied her.

Once they were facing the rain, Zeyu gave the engine more power.

The bow lifted, struck the next wave, and sent spray across the windshield. He eased back immediately when Shichen leaned over the patch.

Nothing had come loose, but water was pushing around the cover faster, and Qinghe had to put the tools aside to reach for the bucket.

Zeyu settled on a slower speed.

He watched the dark water ahead between glances at the fuel gauge, trying to decide whether they were getting closer.

Without a building or a stretch of shore, there was nothing to measure their movement against.

Hanchuan stayed beside him, watching the same patch of rain. Eventually, he leaned closer and pointed toward the gauge.

"We’re using fuel without getting close enough to collect anything," Hanchuan said. "Ease her back. We’ll need what’s left."

Zeyu pulled the throttle back reluctantly.

Behind him, Qinghe emptied another bucket over the side, and he adjusted their course to keep the next wave from striking him while he leaned out.

He had agreed with Hanchuan before they turned. He agreed with him now. Neither decision felt good with the rain still visible ahead.

Zhiyi waited until the boat settled before bringing the case forward. Hanchuan reached to steady it, helping her keep the water from spilling between the shallow compartments.

Zeyu started to wave her toward the others, but she sat beside his seat instead.

He looked at her wet hair and the care she was taking with the case, then accepted it when Hanchuan passed it over.

His mouth was dry enough that he wanted to empty it, but he knew that was a bad idea. Instead, he took a small swallow and lowered it carefully, watching what remained gather in one corner.

"Thank you," Zeyu told her, handing it back. He wanted to touch her, but his fingers were cold and scraped from the wheel.

He settled for resting his hand briefly over hers before she carried the case to Qinghe.

Jingwei called from the other side of the boat, drawing his attention to a tangle of branches ahead. Something clear flashed between the leaves whenever a wave lifted them.

"Bring us closer on this side," Jingwei told him, reaching for the boat hook. "There’s a bottle wedged in there. I might be able to get it without anyone leaning out."

Zeyu approached slowly, watching the branches that extended beneath the surface. He couldn’t risk catching them in the motor.

When they were close enough, he shifted out of gear and let Jingwei reach across the gap.

The hook caught a branch on the first attempt, but the bottle remained farther inside the tangle.

Jingwei drew it toward them until Hanchuan could help, then had to let some of it slip back when its weight pulled the pole downward.

Zeyu waited with his hand on the controls. He had spent years walking past empty bottles without noticing them.

Now he was trying to keep their damaged boat beside one long enough to bring it aboard.

Zhiyi crouched behind Hanchuan, looking through the branches as they turned in the water.

"There’s cord around it," Zhiyi said, pointing near the bottle’s neck. "It’s caught on the fork underneath. Don’t pull the bottle yet."

Hanchuan held the branch while Jingwei changed his grip.

As the leaves dragged across the rail, Zeyu saw that the cord continued below them into a strip of tangled netting.

Small pieces of rubbish had collected along it, including a crushed cup and a sandal with its strap missing.

Jingwei worked the bottle free and passed it to Zhiyi. It was empty, with the cap still screwed on. She turned it over, examining the dented sides before tucking it between her knees.

"Keep some of that net if you can," Zhiyi told him. She reached toward a loose strand, then stopped when the boat moved beneath her. "Even the line would help. I used to fish with pieces like that."

Hanchuan looked down through the water. "How much is hanging underneath?"

"I can’t see the end," Jingwei replied. He pulled a little more over the rail, exposing torn mesh wrapped tightly around another branch. "I’ll cut off what’s already here."

Shichen checked the patch, then came far enough forward to take Jingwei’s place on the boat hook.

With both hands free, Jingwei opened his knife and began separating the net from the wood.

Hanchuan kept the wet bundle from slipping back while Zhiyi gathered the loose pieces away from their feet.

A fish flashed beneath the branches.

Zeyu saw its pale side turn, then disappear as the net tightened around it. He glanced toward Zhiyi and found her watching the same place.

"There’s one caught lower down," Zhiyi said. She leaned far enough to follow its movement, and Hanchuan’s arm came across her waist. "Wait. Something’s underneath it."

Zeyu shifted toward the side of his seat.

At first, he saw only the shadow of the branches. Then a broad gray shape moved beyond them, crossing beneath the net without disturbing the surface.

The fish struggled again. Water broke beside the branch, and the net jerked hard enough to pull a wet loop across Hanchuan’s hand.

"Let that go," Hanchuan ordered, releasing the wood and drawing Zhiyi back with him. "Jingwei, get the line clear of the rail."

Jingwei cut through the strands stretched across it. Shichen pulled the hook aboard as Zeyu put the engine into gear, watching the loose net fall away before he gave them enough power to move.

The gray body turned beneath the branches. Zeyu caught a glimpse of its head and the white underside of its mouth before the tangle rolled over, taking the fish out of sight.

He kept them moving until the branches were well behind.

Zhiyi sat between the seats with the bottle against her stomach.

Hanchuan crouched beside her, checking where the wet cord had crossed her fingers. Near their feet lay the few pieces of net Jingwei had managed to cut free.

Shichen had returned to the patch. Qinghe was bailing again.

Zeyu looked back once more and saw a fin emerge beyond the stern.

It disappeared before he could judge the distance, leaving him watching the water where it had been while the engine continued using fuel they didn’t have.