Often, shadows come suddenly and unpredictably.

For example, the young master of the Ming family who came to invite his new friend out to sea…

Even before he disembarked from his ship, Ming Weiting had still failed to predict that a broom could have such a deterrent effect.

Even as Luo Chi finished making the pine nut corn and the family sat down to eat, Ming Weiting was still answering Madam Ren’s questions with extreme caution, glancing at Huo Miao for a signal before answering each one.

“Alright, it’s not that serious.”

Ren Shuangmei saw the cautious exchange between the two boys and couldn’t help but laugh, lightly tapping each on the head. “The broom isn’t used all the time.”

She picked up a pastry, her free hand ruffling Huo Miao’s hair. “Besides, someone asked me not to chase you out, and I agreed.”

Ming Weiting said his thanks, then paused, a little startled. “Who was it?”

Ren Shuangmei had promised the child to keep it a secret. She smiled and shook her head, picked up an unused spoon, and added a scoop of pine nut corn to Ming Weiting’s bowl.

“You’re still so young, and you’re already helping the family with the ships?” Ren Shuangmei changed the subject, asking Ming Weiting, “Are your parents not worried?”

Ming Weiting put down his chopsticks and sat up straight. He thought for a moment and explained his age.

If calculated by his date of birth, it would indeed be difficult for him to command respect at his age. But the Ming family’s method of calculating age was different from the customs of the high seas. A child was considered one year old at birth, and another year was added after a year passed. Ming Weiting’s birthday was in January of the Gregorian calendar, so by this calculation, he was seventeen, an age at which he was fully capable of going to sea and handling affairs on behalf of his father.

“My father hasn’t taught me the algorithm yet,” Ming Weiting said. “The date for adding a year is different every year, mostly from late January to February.”

He recalled, “The atmosphere on the ship is very lively on that day. There are lanterns everywhere, and some people set off fireworks.”

Ren Shuangmei listened to his rather complicated explanation for a while, exchanged a look with Huo Miao, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Isn’t that just the nominal age?”

Ming Weiting looked up. “Nominal age?”

“That’s how nominal age is calculated,” Luo Chi explained to him. “Because of the ten months of pregnancy, you are one year old at birth, and you grow another year older every Lunar New Year’s Day.”

Ren Shuangmei nodded. “The day you’re talking about is the New Year. On land, it’s the most important festival of the year. The whole family has to reunite to pray for peace.”

Ming Weiting frowned slightly. He had no knowledge of these things and listened intently, taking serious notes.

Ren Shuangmei watched his expression, pondered for a moment, and suddenly asked Ming Weiting, “What kind of person is your mother?”

“I don’t know,” Ming Weiting said. “When I was very young, my father sent my mother back to shore.”

Ming Weiting had heard about this from Uncle Lu.

His father and mother’s relationship was originally very good, but his mother had never been able to fully adapt to life on the ship. She had also been injured while shielding his father from a gunshot during a conflict among the high seas forces, and her health had never been good since.

After giving birth to him, his mother became even weaker, spending most of her time recuperating in the ship’s cabin.

According to Uncle Lu, one night, his father seemed to have had a very terrible nightmare. That day was supposed to be the last day of his mother’s visit to her family. His father had arranged to pick her up, the night the ship was to dock at the port. In the middle of the night, his father suddenly woke up screaming his mother’s name, frantically searching for her all over the ship, causing a huge commotion.

When Uncle Lu rushed over, he saw that his father had calmed down and was smoking alone by the ship’s rail.

…The ship did not dock that day.

That shipping route was later canceled. That pier was also abandoned due to poor management, and no more ships docked at that port.

Ren Shuangmei listened intently to his story. Hearing this, she put down her chopsticks and frowned. “Your mother wasn’t picked up?”

Ming Weiting shook his head.

He was very young at that time, and his memories of it were very vague. He only remembered that after that, his father suddenly seemed to have changed into a different person. His father wouldn’t answer his mother’s calls, wouldn’t reply to any messages. Apart from doing what Mr. Ming was supposed to do, he spent the rest of his time just staring out the window at the calm sea.

And every year on that date—he now knew it was called the “New Year.”

Every New Year, his father would stay alone in his room, seeing no one, and sit up all night watching the lanterns and fireworks outside.

“Wasn’t there a more appropriate solution?” Ren Shuangmei asked softly.

“My mother’s body couldn’t adapt to life at sea, and after being injured and giving birth to me, her constitution became even weaker,” Ming Weiting explained. “As long as my father is still Mr. Ming, he cannot easily leave the ship.”

It wasn’t because of some strange rule, but because the “Mr. Ming” of the Ming family was responsible for balancing the forces on the high seas. Over the years, the power struggles on the high seas had been fierce and could turn into conflicts at any time. Someone had to step in to suppress and mediate.

Only by completely taming these forces could the shackles on Mr. Ming be removed. But to truly mediate among all parties and restore peace to the high seas would take at least five or six more years. If any accidents occurred during that time, it might take even longer.

…Of course, these reasons were also just the most official explanations. At least, that’s what Uncle Lu had told the young Ming Weiting.

Uncle Lu had quietly told him that his father had come up with these reasons simply because he didn’t dare to see his mother. His father was afraid to see his mother, afraid that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to resist taking her away, and afraid that on an impulse, he would stay on shore with his mother forever. His father was afraid of seeing his mother, afraid of making her angry and sad, and also afraid that they would be even sadder after they separated.

Uncle Lu also said that it might have been because his father was afraid his mother was still angry with him—anyone would be angry if treated like that.

Ming Weiting agreed with this point. He also felt that his father had not handled this matter properly. If it were him, he would have gone ashore to explain the reasons clearly and persuade the other person to stay on shore.

Uncle Lu asked him, “What if, after you meet, you find out that she insists on going with you, no matter how poor her health is, how ill-suited she is for life at sea, and refuses to be separated from you?”

Ming Weiting had never met such a person, so naturally, he hadn’t considered these things. He was stumped by this question and couldn’t answer.

“Not everyone can adapt to living on a ship for their entire life.”

Uncle Lu put his arm around his shoulder and told him, “Even among the people the Ming family recruits, about ten percent of them every year have to return to shore because they can’t adapt physically or mentally.”

This situation was related to one’s innate constitution and couldn’t be overcome by willpower alone. Uncle Lu gave him an example, like someone who is naturally allergic to seafood. You can’t tell him to be strong and brave and expect him to eat a fish without any problems.

…And so it became an impossible situation.

If two people, one destined to stay on shore and the other destined to wander forever, were to be together, separation was inevitable.

“So,” the Ming family’s chief steward told the young Ming Weiting at the time, giving a heartfelt admonition to the ten-year-old young master, “you must find a lover who doesn’t get seasick.”

The ten-year-old young master meticulously noted down these words. Years later, when he went back to talk to his father, he asked about these things. The young Ming master, nominally seventeen and chronologically fifteen, hadn’t even finished speaking before he was thrown back onto his own ship and scolded by his father with a dazzling display of light signals for a full thirty seconds.

“At that time, many people couldn’t understand my father’s actions. They thought he was strange, as if he had been possessed, and his temper had suddenly changed,” Ming Weiting said. “When I grew up a little and heard about what happened back then, I thought so too.”

“Until some special things, which can’t be completely explained by scientific principles, also happened to me.”

He finished explaining the whole story, paused slightly, and then continued with the last sentence, “…Perhaps it wasn’t being possessed.”

Luo Chi understood his meaning. He met Ming Weiting’s gaze and pointed at him, then at himself. Ming Weiting nodded.

…Perhaps it was like them.

Perhaps in that nightmare, his father had lost his mother forever.

“No wonder he’s not happy during the New Year,” Luo Chi said, resting his chin on his arms at the edge of the table, thinking carefully. “If I couldn’t see my mom even during the New Year, I would be sad too.”

Every New Year, Ren Shuangmei would video call Luo Chi right at midnight. On New Year’s Day, she would take him out to temple fairs and set off firecrackers, letting him have the time of his life.

Mom was his favorite person, so Luo Chi thought the feeling was probably similar.

“My father is very sad,” Ming Weiting said. “But even now, I still don’t agree with my father’s actions.”

Ming Weiting said, “I would still explain it clearly to the other person—the more important the person, the more important it is to explain things clearly.”

He hadn’t been able to answer Uncle Lu’s question back then because he didn’t have a friend he wanted to go to sea with, someone he wanted to see every day. Since there was no such person, he naturally couldn’t put himself in that situation and think about it.

But now that he had met Luo Chi, Ming Weiting was beginning to understand that feeling.

He noticed Madam Ren’s gaze on him and continued, “If either Huo Miao or I were to break our promise and not go to see the other, the one left behind would definitely be even sadder.”

Ren Shuangmei smiled.

She didn’t comment on the story, but just spoke warmly, suggesting to Ming Weiting, “You should go see your mother when you have time.”

Ming Weiting nodded. He was just about to ask Madam Ren for help in finding his mother’s whereabouts and tried to make a request. “Could you please help me find her? My father has blocked all related information, so it’s very difficult for me to find her on my own.”

“Of course, no problem,” Ren Shuangmei said without hesitation, taking out her phone without a second thought. She asked Ming Weiting, “What’s your mother’s name?”

“Her surname is Yan,” Ming Weiting said. “Her name is Yan Yu.”

Ren Shuangmei typed the first character. Hearing the name Ming Weiting said, she paused and looked up.

Ming Weiting was slightly taken aback. “Madam?”

“Yan as in swallow,” Ren Shuangmei said. “Yu as in birdsong and fragrant flowers.”

Ming Weiting nodded.

Ren Shuangmei’s eyes widened in surprise. She was stunned for a moment, then suddenly burst out laughing and put down her phone. “No need to look. We have a very good relationship. We’re pen pals.”

Ren Shuangmei had many pen pals, and she got along best with this Miss Yan. The two had even gone horseback riding on the grasslands together, climbed snow-capped mountains, and wrestled with untamed, fiery little Akhal-Teke horses.

She had heard many of her stories—this story actually had another version.

Although her family was a scholarly one with a long history, Yan Yu had always been the most stubborn and the biggest headache for her family. When she got angry, no one could persuade her.

“Your mother was so sick at that time she couldn’t even get out of bed, yet she still argued with her family about going to the pier. It was a huge fuss,” Ren Shuangmei said. “Later, her family couldn’t dissuade her, so they sent someone. They found out that the ship never came.”

“That—” Ren Shuangmei paused, cautiously avoiding the vengeful nickname from the letters, “—that man on the ship.”

Ren Shuangmei said, “He only had someone bring her a message, saying her body was too weak and she wasn’t suitable for life at sea.”

Ming Weiting couldn’t help but frown. “It was my father’s fault.”

He didn’t know the specific details of what happened back then. After a slight hesitation, he asked in a low voice, “Was my mother sad to hear such words? Is her health okay?”

Ren Shuangmei coughed lightly.

…Yan Yu wasn’t sad at the time. But she was furious.

Over the years, Ming Weiting’s parents may not have been completely out of contact, as his perspective suggested. At least, when Yan Yu found out about this, she was so angry that she ate heartily and slept soundly. She cooperated with her recovery like never before, and after she was well, she even specifically rented a drone.

The drone, trailing a banner that read “You’re the one who’s weak, you’re the one who’s not suitable for life at sea,” ostentatiously made a beeline for the established shipping route and flew right over Mr. Ming’s ship.

Ming Weiting’s father seemed to have also secretly gone ashore many times—for example, during the trip they took.

Their hotel stays were unprecedentedly comfortable. Every shop they entered “just happened” to have a new shipment of Yan Yu’s favorite things. The clothes were exactly what Yan Yu had always wanted to buy, and the owner of the jewelry store practically chased after them to sell her the best quality sapphires at a tenth of the price.

Even when they went out to eat, the restaurant’s specialty dishes were always Yan Yu’s favorites. Yan Yu would only have a few bites before throwing down her chopsticks and chasing after someone.

So Yan Yu got even angrier.

After the trip ended and she returned home, Yan Yu signed up for combat classes.

In the following years, most of their correspondence was related to this matter.

“Your mother’s health is very good.”

Ren Shuangmei said, “According to her own description, she has already learned to disarm someone with her bare hands and various fighting techniques. She’s close to being able to punch a hole through a sandbag with one fist.”