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With a new moon gracing the heavens, the lack of lunar glow made the stars glimmer all the brighter in the dark, cloudless sky that night. No waves lapped at the hull, and no ripple decorated the water’s surface. Sky and sea merged at the horizon, as though the ship was alone inside a dark orb of glittering stars.
Halfway into their voyage, with no winds and barely any current to carry them, they were simply adrift. There was nothing to do but wait. Most of the crew were sleeping below deck, leaving only a handful of men to keep watch on the open sea.
Feng Xin leant on the taffrail, resting his chin on folded arms as he peered into the still water below. The reflection of hundreds of constellations twinkled up at him from the surface, but he didn’t care for them.
They were in the middle of mer territory. The ship passed through on every voyage between Xianle and Yong’an, but each time felt just as fantastical and dreamlike as the first.
Merfolk vocalized at a frequency that could pass between air and water at the same speed, gentle melodies that sounded similar to human humming. Out at sea with no land in sight, it was like listening to comforting lullabies in a silence that could sometimes grow overwhelming. They tended to leave the ship itself alone, as long as the crew took care not to linger too long.
All but one.
☽☆☾
On Feng Xin’s first journey aboard The Heaven’s Disgrace as a deckhand, he had been so captivated by the echoing chorus of mersong floating up from the sea that he’d tripped over a coil of rope and dropped the crate he’d been carrying. The wood splintered, sending shrimp sprawling all over the deck. Some fell overboard.
The Chief Mate had seethed. The crew saved what they could, but Feng Xin had to cling to the ship’s figurehead for the next hour of the voyage as punishment.
The figurehead was carved into the shape of a male mer, his tail coiled elegantly along the bow, intricately and painstakingly crafted. Feng Xin didn’t spare any energy wondering about it. He just cursed under his breath and held on for dear life with his arms wrapped around the mer’s neck and his ankles hooked around its slim waist. It was the middle of the night, no land in sight in any direction. If he fell, who would even notice?
That was the first time he saw a real mer with his own two eyes, gliding along directly beneath him on the wave formed by the prow.
Smooth scales glittered red where they caught the moonlight just under the water’s surface, darkening to jet black fins to create a striking contrast with his snowy-skinned upper half and the silvery stream of his long hair. His caudal fin was broad but delicate, wafting like fabric through the water. Pelvic fins draped from his hips like the edges of a skirt. A smattering of red scales climbed up his spine to surround a low dorsal fin.
Feng Xin stared down at the shape of the mer below, ignoring the uncomfortable twist to his neck. The ache in his limbs faded. Then the mer popped his head out of the water to look directly up at him, and his face took Feng Xin’s breath away.
He looked strikingly human, like he would open his mouth at any moment and speak, and at the same time so ethereally beautiful that he was almost frightening to look at. Dark fins flared from either side of his head, where ears should be, and equally dark eyes stared, unabashed.
The mer’s lips quirked up at the corners in an expression that transcended language.
He was laughing at him.
Feng Xin scowled. 'Oi— Go away if you’re just going to laugh! I’m not here to be anybody’s entertainment!'
'𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥,' the mer hummed back at him.
'Shoo!' he waved one arm at him, and then slung it around the figurehead’s neck again as he felt himself slip.
'𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥.'
The mer dived back under the water for a moment, only to emerge with a trill that sounded too much like laughter to be mistaken for anything else.
He stayed at the prow, diving down only to resurface to stare some more with a grin and a trill, or a hummed comment that was probably better not being understood. Even some of the crew on watch gathered at the bowsprit to point and laugh along with the mer, which made the whole ordeal ten times more humiliating. He stayed until they reached the very fringe of mer waters, where Feng Xin’s crew finally took pity on him and started to haul him back up to the deck.
Feng Xin heard a splash below him, and then a very wet, hard slap right across the back of his shoulders knocked the breath from his chest.
'Ouch!'
Pei Ming burst out laughing, going so weak with the force of his tremors that he almost dropped Feng Xin. 'Did you really just get tail-slapped?! Gods, how high did he jump?!'
'Bastard!' he snapped, addressing both of them. By the time he clambered back over the taffrail and glared down into the water, there was no sign of vermillion scales or silvery hair.
Feng Xin sported one huge purple bruise across his upper back for over a week.
On their return journey, he spotted the same mer perched on a rocky outcropping of a tiny island where the seals liked to sunbathe. Silver hair shone under the full moon, as bright as the gentle glow of bioluminescent fins. Feng Xin scowled at the sight of him, a flush of residual embarrassment rising up the back of his neck.
The mer cast his dark eyes over the ship in a lazy glance as it sailed past, combing clawed fingers through his long tresses. As he tied the top layer into a high ponytail with a long ribbon of beaded alaria, his eyes locked onto Feng Xin. The corners of his mouth curled upwards with a trill of amusement. He looked away with a toss of his silky hair.
Scowling, Feng Xin snatched a live fish from the barrel of brine, took aim, and threw.
The panicking fish slapped the mer right across the cheek before falling into the sea with a splash.
He froze, bioluminescence fading, and his eyes widened in an expression of such clear shock and disgust that Feng Xin barked a laugh.
'Hah! See how you like it!'
Bottomless black eyes turned to glare at him, and the fins on the sides of his head lowered. Thin lips pulled back to bare pointed teeth. He slid from his perch and dived into the water. His black caudal fin emerged once just to slap back down onto the surface in Feng Xin’s direction before he disappeared.
The Chief Mate lashed him to the mizzenmast for wasting a fish.
Just before setting off for his third voyage aboard the ship, Pei Ming approached him with a grim expression and thrust a blunt pen knife into Feng Xin’s grasp and said, 'Get in the water and help me clear the hull. Chief Mate’s orders.'
There weren’t many things less enticing than going for a swim just before they set sail, but refusing wasn’t much of an option. The Chief Mate was probably still angry about the fish. With a sigh, he stepped off the dock and dropped down into the freezing water with his crewmate.
While the rest of the crew loaded the ship with cargo, Feng Xin and Pei Ming treaded water next to the ship’s huge hull, scraping and chipping at the stubborn barnacles. They were there for most of the evening, trading barbs and insults just to keep themselves warm while the rest of the crew jeered at them from above.
Long after sunset, while Feng Xin was prying the last of the tricky critters from the rudder, something latched onto his hips with bruising force. He yelped, lurching into the side of the ship like he could cling to the smooth wood to escape the beast braving the shallow waters to make a meal out of him. But he wasn’t pulled under, and no iron jaws snapped him in half. Instead, what were undoubtedly fingers dug into his trousers and yanked them down to his ankles.
'??!!'
'You okay over there?' Pei Ming called from the prow.
'𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥~𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥~𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥!'
Feng Xin smacked the surface of the water in the general direction of that mocking tune. 'Asshole! Get back here!'
A black fin flicked up from the water a few feet away, sending a cascading wave right back at him.
“Get on land and fuck with me there, why don’t you?! See how well you fare then!” he roared, clawing his sodden hair from his face. One hand clung to the hull and the other desperately tried to save the garment hanging perilously from his ankle. His head twisted this way and that, glaring into the surrounding water for a flash of red or silver. 'Where’d you go?! Not brave enough to mess with me directly, huh?!'
'Was that the same mer?' Pei Ming asked, swimming over and interrupting his tirade. He looked around in the water, a delighted twinkle in his eyes. 'What did he do to you this time?'
'…Nothing,' Feng Xin groused, fighting to pull his trousers back up without Pei Ming noticing.
'My friend, you’re yelling at a fish.'
'They’re mammals. They breathe air.'
Pei Ming shrugged. 'Whatever. You’re still yelling at him. What did he do?'
Feng Xin refused to tell him until much later that evening, after they’d cast off, and only because Pei Ming wouldn’t shut up about it. He regretted it immediately. Pei Ming collapsed into a fit of laughter and immediately ran off to share his shame with Shi Wudu and Ling Wen.
☽☆☾
The rivalry persisted. They didn’t always have the opportunity to mess with one another, but Feng Xin usually spotted a glimpse of the red-tailed mer at least once on every journey. It was usually only a peek at a broad caudal fin, a glimmer of iridescent vermillion scales, or the shine of his long, silky hair. It was a rare thing to see his face. Feng Xin was yet to figure out whether the mer followed the ship purely for the chance to poke fun at him specifically, or whether he was passive-aggressively escorting them out of his territory.
Feng Xin was long past the point of pretending not to look out for him, and it was irksome that he hadn’t seen him yet during this voyage. What was he waiting for?
A long, low sigh announced the arrival of the Chief Mate on deck. Feng Xin glanced up to find Ming Yi’s dark, hooded eyes staring up at the sails hanging lifelessly from the masts overhead, their color muted to nothing. They were mere stretches of darkness against the inky sky, blocking out the smattering of stars.
'What are you all standing around for?' he demanded. His voice was a quiet, dull monotone that never failed to command attention. 'If you can’t sail, do something useful and get the nets down.'
'Yes, Chief!' chorused the six other sailors on watch, scattering to gather nets and rope.
Feng Xin hesitated at the edge of the deck. He glanced back down at the water below out of the corner of his eye. The crew had gotten away with some light fishing in mer territory before, but it was always a risk. Too greedy, and the mer might chase them out of this entire stretch of water for good. Too careless, and they could trap one of the merfolk in the nets.
'Feng Xin,' Ming Yi warned.
'Yes, Chief,' he answered, pushing away from the taffrail.
Once the net had been untangled and the rope tethered to the pulley system, they were ready to cast. Feng Xin double- and triple-checked the knots as slowly as he could get away with.
'Come on, Feng Xin! Are you half asleep over there?' Pei Ming complained.
'I’m being thorough!' he shot back. 'It’ll be your head on a pike if these knots fail and we lose both the net and the Chief Mate’s fish. Did you forget what he did to Shi Wudu?'
They both shuddered.
Stay away, he inwardly urged his annoying mer as he signaled the go-ahead to his crewmates.
They cast the net, watching as the weighted edge slowly sank. Feng Xin paced slowly around the deck, trying to peer into the sea without drawing attention to himself. With the surface like an opaque mirror, it was impossible to see anything that might be lurking underneath.
'Alright, draw it in!' Pei Ming called, gesturing over to Yin Yu and Quan Yizhen on the pulley to start turning.
The deck suddenly pitched sharply to its starboard side, throwing Feng Xin straight off his feet.
'Ah-!'
'Ow!'
'What the-?!'
He tumbled into the taffrail, his head slamming hard into the wood. Hissing a string of curses, he pressed one hand to his temple as he fumbled up onto his knees. His crewmates sprawled across the deck in similar states of pained confusion.
'Something caught the net-' Ming Yi started to say.
A shriek drowned him out.
Everyone on deck smacked their hands over their ears at once and cowered beneath the haunting, deafening sound. The scream was as beautiful as it was terrible. It wrung tears of pain as much as sorrow from human eyes.
Feng Xin scrambled to his feet and rushed to the taffrail. Pei Ming joined him, staring straight down into the churning waters below. Behind them, their sleepy crewmates tumbled out from below deck in bleary bafflement.
'It’s a mer!' someone shouted, as though that wasn’t immediately obvious.
'What do we do?!'
'Lower the rope,' Ming Yi commanded, finally raising his voice over the panic. 'It’ll be able to free itself once it realizes it isn’t trapped.'
'It’s jammed, Chief!' Yin Yu called back while Quan Yizhen strained red-faced against the unyielding lever.
'How the fuck is it jammed?!' Feng Xin barked. 'It was fine a minute ago!'
“The rotary system-”
Feng Xin waved him away. He didn’t care. A mer was trapped; it didn’t matter how.
The ship rocked back to port, and then pitched hard to starboard again. Most of the crew had found something sturdy to hold onto, but a few sleepy souls lost their footing and thumped across the deck. Every one of them cowered again under another gods-awful, painful shriek.
'Cut the rope, damn it!' someone snapped.
'Don’t!' Pei Ming yelled back, throwing a protective arm out over the rope before someone could land a knife to it. “The net is weighted! If he’s tangled up in it, it’ll drag him down and he’ll drown.”
'You all have hands, don’t you?'
Everyone snapped to attention as their Captain arrived. The ship rocked dangerously back and forth.
'So make use of them and pull him up.'
'Yes, Captain!'
Eight of the strongest crew members, with Pei Ming at the fore and Quan Yizhen at the aft, took hold of the rope connecting the pulley to the net below. Feng Xin stood at the ready, leaning over the taffrail with his knife in a white-knuckled grip. Beside him, Captain Jun Wu peered down with a strange expression on his face—almost eager.
Slowly, as the heaving crew huffed and puffed with gritted teeth and sweat streaming down their faces, the churning water began to glow brightly from beneath. The flap of a black fin broke the surface first, almost completely white with the blinding brightness of panicked bioluminescence. Feng Xin’s heart leapt into his mouth. The Captain’s face morphed into disinterested disappointment. Feng Xin’s ear caught the muttering of him being, “not the right one,” as he wandered away from the crowded starboard side.
'It’s his caudal fin!' Feng Xin shouted, as though his crewmates weren’t otherwise preoccupied. 'It’s torn and caught in the net!'
'Get on with it and cut him loose,' Jun Wu drawled, sounding bored.
Feng Xin bent double over the taffrail, reaching for the top of the net just as a webbed hand came flying towards him, claws outstretched. One caught his forearm and tore a deep gash through his sleeve into his flesh. He lurched back. 'Fuck!'
'You good? Feng Xin?' Pei Ming uttered through a clenched jaw.
He shook out the pain, spraying blood across the deck. 'Fine!'
Bending over the taffrail again, he came face to face with his mer. His eyes were wide with both terror and fury, writhing half in and half out of the water within the torturous confines of the net. His body was twisted into an awkward bend; his caudal fin up above his head, the backwards arch of his spine forcing his dorsal fin to fold back into itself, and the delicate edges of his pelvic fins trapped in net loops.
The mer glared at him, baring a mouthful of pointed teeth, and lashed out again.
Feng Xin jerked back. 'I’m trying to help you, ungrateful bastard!'
The mer retaliated with a sound that could only be described as melodious growling.
'Let me cut you free!' he insisted. Keeping a safe distance, he pointed first to his knife, and then to the knot slowly tearing through the thin membrane of the mer’s caudal fin.
'Feng Xin,' Pei Ming grunted. 'Can you stop chatting with him and start cutting?'
'He’ll tear my arm off if he doesn’t understand what I’m trying to do,' Feng Xin retorted. The mer was most of the way out of the water now, wet hair plastered to his back and tail. He was no longer snarling, but his dark eyes continued to glare straight at Feng Xin. 'It’s okay,' he tried again. 'You’ll be alright. We’re trying to help.'
Black irises set in black sclera looked at Feng Xin, and then at the knife, and then back again. He reached out with a webbed hand, straining against the netting to grip his wounded arm. Feng Xin flinched, but the points of his claws didn’t cut into him again.
'That’s right,' he said, trying to soothe him despite his own shaking voice. 'I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. We’re going to get you free.'
The mer’s nostrils flared with quick, frantic breaths of air.
'Feng Xin,' Pei Ming growled.
'Feng Xin.'
It didn’t sound like human speech, not really, but the shape of his name was still clear and coherent.
He nodded and pointed to himself. 'Feng Xin. Yes, that’s me. And you? Who are you?'
The mer stared at him before replying. It was a sound more formed than his usual humming. It was similar to Mu Qing if Feng Xin were to try and apply human syllables to it. He didn’t even know if the mer understood the question, or whether he was saying something else entirely, but it was the closest thing to a name he had.
'Will you let me cut you free, Mu Qing?'
'Feng Xin, I swear to the gods, I’ll throw you overboard myself if you don’t get on with it—!'
'Alright, alright!' Slowly, he approached the first knot.
Mu Qing gripped him tighter, the points of his claws digging painfully into his skin. '𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯…'
Hooking the blade around the loop tearing into his caudal fin, Feng Xin struggled to slice through the tough flax. Mu Qing hissed as his tail twitched and fluttered weakly under the light touch, leaving bloody smears against his hands.
'I’m sorry, I know it hurts,' Feng Xin soothed, pulling and sawing at the flax until it frayed and finally snapped. 'There, look, now it won’t tear any more.'
'𝅗𝅥- 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥.' It was quiet, but the lyrical language still managed to sound sarcastic. Feng Xin frowned and glanced up at the mer’s face in time to see him roll those dark eyes, his expression set into a scowl.
'I’m doing my best!' he protested.
'𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥! ' Mu Qing responded, mimicking the intonation of his words, and Feng Xin knew he was mocking him.
'Bitch,' he muttered, and redoubled his efforts.
He slashed, sliced, and sawed at one loop after another, fighting the stubborn flax. The longer it took, the more agitated Mu Qing grew. He writhed and thrashed inside his confines, pulling at the small hole forming in the net. The glow of his fins brightened so much that Feng Xin could barely see what he was doing. '𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅯 𝅘𝅥𝅰𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅱𝅘𝅥𝅯-'
He had no idea what he was saying, but it was probably something along the lines of, Hurry up.
The loops twisted and shifted under his tugging, threatening to yank the knife out of Feng Xin’s grasp. With his arm still locked in that iron grip, Mu Qing threatened to pull him right over the taffrail.
'You need to calm down,' Feng Xin urged as he tried to force the blade to snap another loop through sheer brute force. The netting had already rubbed his palms raw, and a sharp ache sparked up and down his spine from the awkward bend. 'You’re making this harder!'
Mu Qing growled at him.
The crew grunted and groaned with the effort of holding him up, the soles of their boots sliding on the deck as they fought the force of a struggling mer in a weighted net. 'Feng Xin, I don’t think we can hold him much longer,' Pei Ming grunted in warning.
'You have to!'
'Feng Xin.'
'I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere until you’re free.'
'Cut the rope,' commanded Jun Wu in a voice far too calm and far too disinterested. 'You tried.'
'No!' Feng Xin whirled around as much as he could in Mu Qing’s grip. The sorrowful, desperate keen the mer let out threatened to cleave his heart in two. 'If we let him die in our net, the merfolk will chase us right out of these waters and never let us sail through them again! It’s too much of a risk!'
'If he falls, the momentum may well capsize the ship,' Jun Wu shot back. 'I’ll take my chances with the merfolk from up here on deck, I think.'
Feng Xin seethed. 'You’d care if this was a different mer, wouldn’t you?!'
Jun Wu didn’t even flinch. 'Of course. But he’s not. So I don’t care.'
With an unnecessarily showy flourish, he drew his sword from his belt and swung it in a wide arc, slashing down on the top of the taffrail, severing the taut rope cleanly in two and cutting deep into the wood.
The crew fighting to hold up the mer all toppled backwards in a heap of shocked and indignant cries.
'𝅗𝅥!' The net and the mer inside it splashed down into the sea below.
Feng Xin stared down in horror, tracking the sudden silvery flare of panicked bioluminescence beneath the surface with the scream still ringing in his ears.
'Jump in after him if you care so much,' Jun Wu drawled, yanking his blade free of the rail. 'Save me the trouble of throwing you overboard myself for that display of insubordination.'
There was no time to consider such things as rational thought or self-preservation. Feng Xin set the knife between his teeth, took as deep a breath as his lungs could hold, and dived from the taffrail.
The icy cold seized him, threatening to force his lungs to gasp. The open wound on his arm stung fiercely in the salty water. He paused for a moment just under the surface, waiting for his limbs to unlock and his eyes to adjust as the flurry of bubbles passed.
It was black as pitch, but Mu Qing’s bright, silvery fins guided him down. The mer hadn’t sunk too far yet. He couldn’t swim coiled up at such an awkward angle, but he was fighting the weight of the net with one arm squeezed through the small hole the knife had managed to make. Feng Xin swam as fast as he could and grabbed hold of the webbed hand struggling to arc through the water.
Mu Qing paused, but then squeezed back tightly. '𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯..?'
Feng Xin used their joined hands to haul himself right up against the net and anchored himself there. Mu Qing refused to let go.
With no moon in the sky, the surface was completely indistinguishable from the ocean depths. They were sinking. He yanked at the loops with his blade, and Mu Qing helped by tearing apart the fraying flax with his hands and teeth.
The flax was no easier to cut through underwater than above it, but they seemed to be making swifter progress. Perhaps it was their combined strength, perhaps it was the adrenaline, perhaps it was the fact that Feng Xin could see the remainder of his life burning down as clearly as with an incense stick. Together, they cut a hole big enough for Mu Qing’s entire arm to fit through, and then both arms, and then his shoulders.
Feng Xin’s lungs burned. Air. I need air.
Mu Qing wriggled through the net, a difficult process made all the harder for the fact that he would not let go of Feng Xin’s hand.
I need to breathe—
His broad caudal fin got caught, refusing to dislodge no matter how vigorously he waved his tail. The thin membrane could fold a little, but not enough to squeeze through the tiny hole.
Feng Xin finally managed to shake off Mu Qing’s grip and kicked down to his fin. He tore through another loop, and another, and another, until he could yank the net in its entirety off his tail. He dropped it, letting it sink, and immediately scrambled to swim in the opposite direction to find the surface, arms and legs flailing.
I can’t—I need to…!
The mer darted ahead of him, gliding through the water as effortlessly as an arrow through the air. The guiding light of his bioluminescence faded, and then he was gone.
Breath surged from Feng Xin’s mouth in a flurry of bubbles, unable to fight the urge any longer.
Do not breathe in, he yelled at himself. Do not breathe in!
With no air in his lungs, he had to swim all the harder against the insistent pull trying to drag him down. His chest was on fire. His hands were numb. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t even tell if he was still swimming for the surface, or flailing in useless circles.
He was dying, he realized. He was dying, just so that a mer could live.
His mer.
Just as his limbs started to slow, as he began to accept that he would never reach the surface, as he was about to let water fill his lungs and mark the beginning of his death, a soft light filled his blurring vision.
Heaven? he wondered, delirium beginning to set in.
A gentle touch cupped his jaw, fingers that would be cool on the surface but warm compared to the icy water. Another wrapped around his back.
He hadn’t expected death’s embrace to be quite so tangible.
But then smooth lips covered his own, easing them apart, and Feng Xin’s drooping eyelids snapped open.
Not heaven.
Bioluminescence—not blindingly bright in panic anymore, but glowing in a soft, undulating pattern across elegant fins.
Fresh, rejuvenating air streamed into his lungs.
The pressure on his mouth made his lips tingle. Mu Qing’s chest pressed right up against him, faintly warm, while his powerful tail curled around his legs to stop them flailing. He had to fight the urge to gasp, overwhelmed by the sensations, the intimate embrace, and the fact that he was not, in fact, dead.
It briefly crossed his mind that the mer could quite easily keep him captive this way—keep him under the water and barely alive with sparse breaths of air just to keep him fresh enough to eat later.
Did mer eat humans?
Mu Qing didn’t pull back until Feng Xin was full of breath. He smiled, the corners of his lips curled upwards in a playful grin. 'Hold.'
Too dazed to question the sudden use of a human word, Feng Xin could only nod. Clawed fingers pried the knife from Feng Xin’s tense grip and let it sink out of reach. Then he turned, pulled unresisting arms over his scaled shoulders and with a powerful thrust of his tail, took off through the water with Feng Xin on his back.
Maybe he was taking him to the surface. Or maybe he was carrying him deeper, to keep him captive on the sea bed where no one could reach him.
Feng Xin realized he didn’t much care which it was.