Ren Shuangmei didn’t rush to take the little one home.

The sky lanterns slowly flew away, becoming distant points of light in the night sky. The bonfire crackled and burned, its flames still bright and hot. Luo Chi spread out a large, thick bath towel and pulled Ming Weiting to lie down on the beach with him, listening to his new friend’s stories of the sea.

It was the first time he knew that there was such a completely different world outside.

He learned that “the sea” was such a vast place. Just in the Pacific Ocean alone, one could spend three or four years, or even longer, sailing and playing, stopping here and there.

The ship’s next journey was to the South Pacific, to cross the Pacific to Tahiti, passing through Fiji, and then continuing south.

There would be many beautiful archipelagos at sea. The comfortable tropical scenery made the breadfruit and coconut trees grow exceptionally tall. The white sandy beaches almost seemed to glow in the sun, and the seawater was a heart-refreshingly clear azure blue.

On the islands formed by ancient volcanic eruptions, there would be spectacular giant volcanic rocks, dark and towering, overlooking the entire island as if on a long patrol of their territory.

Many islands were rarely visited by humans. Because of their long isolation, they were home to many unique animals, and many marine creatures came here to reproduce.

On those islands covered in dense, lush jungles, many birds flew among the towering ancient trees. The frigatebird was the fiercest, always snatching food from other birds, diving so fast it was like a bolt of lightning.

Ming Weiting told him about the albatrosses on the Galápagos Islands. These large seabirds, with a body length of even over a meter, were actually quite docile. Many of them liked to fly alongside the cruise ship—among them, a type called the “wandering albatross,” with a wingspan of over three meters, loved the giant waves stirred up by hurricanes. The young birds would leave the island after learning to fly and spend almost their entire lives wandering at sea.

Luo Chi turned his head and asked Ming Weiting, “Are you guys like that too?”

“Pretty much.” Ming Weiting thought for a moment. “We live on the ship. We don’t necessarily dock at any particular port and might go anywhere.”

Luo Chi asked, “Being on the move all the time, do you ever feel lonely?”

Ming Weiting shook his head gently. “No.”

Luo Chi responded thoughtfully, resting his head on his arm. He imagined the scenes Ming Weiting described and looked up at the clouds slowly flowing across the sky, carried by the wind.

Those thick cumulonimbus clouds lingered in the night sky, a deep leaden gray, completely obscuring the moon and most of the stars, with only a few scattered ones peeking through the gaps.

“Most of the time, the nights at sea aren’t like this,” Ming Weiting said. “There will be many stars, very bright. Near the poles, you can see the Milky Way.”

“In places with few traces of human activity, the night sky looks like diamonds embedded in velvet, each one exceptionally bright.”

Ming Weiting thought for a moment. “Standing on the deck at the top of the ship, you’ll feel like the Milky Way is right above your head, as if you can touch it with a reach of your hand.”

He was not good at describing these scenes, and the content he spoke of could not compare to even a fraction of the real view.

But perhaps it was because of these unadorned descriptions that those vast and magnificent pictures became more real, making one believe that they truly existed in some corner of the world.

Luo Chi listened to him talk about those places, imagining them as he listened, and the more he thought, the more his heart was moved.

He was fulfilled and happy staying at the villa. Every day was comfortable, with plenty to do. He was actually already very content.

Luo Chi certainly hadn’t had enough of being at home yet—in the past, when his mother took him in, although he would stay at the Ren family home or the seaside villa, it was ultimately foster care and a temporary stay. He always had to calculate in his heart how long he could stay this time at most.

Every time Luo Chi stood on his tiptoes to flip the calendar, turning those pages day by day, he felt both happy and anxious, hoping that this time, and the next, he could stay a little longer.

The situation now was completely different from before.

He could stay at home for as long as he wanted, sleep wherever he wanted. Every part of the house was safe, and he never had to go somewhere else again.

This feeling was too good. Before meeting Ming Weiting, Luo Chi had actually always wanted to stay at home every day and hadn’t considered going out and venturing far for the time being.

…But the scenes the other person painted were also too alluring.

He lived by the sea and could see it every day, but he never knew that there were so many mysterious and enticing places on the sea.

No wonder his mom always wanted to go surfing and was planning to learn scuba diving with him, always wanting to take him to all sorts of places to play and explore.

Luo Chi couldn’t help but turn over. He was just about to speak when he suddenly felt the wind around him turn chilly. A flash of light crackled, and in an instant, the flowing air was filled with damp rain.

Luo Chi whispered, “Oh no,” propped himself up from the sand, and pulled Ming Weiting to run towards the house.

The recent rains came without any warning. Both the start and stop were almost instantaneous. Ming Weiting reached out and shielded Luo Chi’s back and waist in time. Just as he was pulled a few steps, large raindrops began to fall.

In an instant, the sound of the rain became a deafening roar, and thunder rumbled faintly from the other side of the sky. Under the flash of lightning, the white lines of rain were whipped around by the wind like whips, and a white mist suddenly rose from the sea surface.

Luo Chi pulled him along, walking along the base of the stone cliff, trying his best to shelter from the sudden downpour.

Ming Weiting quickened his pace to keep up with Luo Chi, then deftly took off his jacket and put it over him.

The shadow of the stone was dim. Noticing the arm reaching over, Luo Chi’s heart pounded heavily. He reflexively raised his arm to block, then immediately bit his lip hard to clear his head.

He quickly took a step back, stopping his movement in time, and forced his own arm down.

“You should wear it, be careful not to catch a cold.” Luo Chi pushed the jacket back to him. “I often get caught in the rain, it’s fine—”

Noticing the exceptionally gentle force, his voice suddenly stopped, and he looked up from under the stone cliff.

Ming Weiting, through the jacket, gently pressed the top of his head with one hand. “It’s not fine.”

Luo Chi was stunned for two seconds. Before he could react, a clap of thunder exploded right above their heads, and a flash of lightning illuminated the sky and earth in a sheet of white.

The instinctive reaction from a moment ago had not yet dissipated. Luo Chi’s heart felt as if it had been struck hard by the thunder. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stood straight against the rock wall.

In that dazzling white light, Ming Weiting asked him, “Which way is home?”

Luo Chi couldn’t see anything clearly for a moment. He rubbed his eyes hard and raised his hand to point towards home.

Ming Weiting picked him up and carried him on his back.

Luo Chi was startled. He instinctively held onto the shoulders in front of him and steadied himself on the other’s back. “I’m fine, I can still run.”

Ming Weiting nodded. “I know.”

He looked up, confirmed the direction of the lights, and then asked, “Does your back hurt a lot?”

Luo Chi was startled and didn’t answer immediately.

Ming Weiting gently put him down, lowered his head, and looked at Huo Miao who was leaning against the rock cliff to stand steady. By the light from just now, he saw that Luo Chi’s forehead was wet, it was unclear if it was water or cold sweat.

Luo Chi shook his head.

“Sorry, I should have discussed it with you beforehand,” Ming Weiting asked. “Can I wipe it for you? Is it convenient?”

He raised his hand and waited until those eyes had blinked slowly a couple of times, and the instinctive wariness in them had become clear and gentle again, before reaching out to support Luo Chi.

The two stood under the temporary shelter of the stone cliff. Ming Weiting held his cuff and carefully wiped the water from his forehead, then draped the jacket over Luo Chi’s head.

Ming Weiting tried to take Luo Chi’s arm.

He could feel that Luo Chi was very unaccustomed to this kind of contact—not for subjective reasons. Luo Chi himself was trying his best to control it. He would also take the initiative to pull him to see his mom, to pull him to run home.

The message in the journal didn’t explain much more, only told him that he might need to be cautious at first and not be too rash….

But it didn’t matter. That fire would never be trapped in one place.

You just had to reach out to him.

Once he took your hand, he would run out to find you without hesitation.

Luo Chi pursed his lips. He whispered a “thank you” and rested on Ming Weiting’s shoulder.

The fact that Luo Chi had an injury on his back was something not many people knew.

It was an injury purely from being beaten. Because he had secretly carried his sister out on his back, those people had beaten him half to death. A wooden stick had landed too hard on his back, leaving him with this chronic condition.

It was inevitable that the old injury would ache on cloudy and rainy days. Luo Chi himself was already used to it, but he was troubled that the injury was somewhat of a hindrance.

“Keep the jacket on,” Ming Weiting said. “Close your eyes.”

Luo Chi hadn’t been carried on someone’s back since he could remember. His ears couldn’t help but burn.

He opened his mouth to speak, but in the end said nothing, just did as he was told, propping up the jacket and closing his eyes.

His back actually hurt a lot. This kind of injury always acted up on rainy days. It was a sore, numb pain that, when it flared up, felt like it could drain all his strength. It hurt so much that walking and talking were exhausting, and black mist would appear before his eyes in waves.

Luo Chi wiped the cold sweat on the fabric of his shoulder. He rested on Ming Weiting’s back, trying hard to hold up the jacket to cover both of them.

Ming Weiting carried him on his back and hurried back home.

The rain grew heavier. This kind of wind-driven rain could soak anything in an instant, but the jacket was waterproof, and the lining was still dry and warm, wrapping him securely.

The beach was not far from the villa. Ming Weiting had a good sense of direction and soon found the back door of the garden. Ren Shuangmei had already come out with an umbrella and a raincoat to look for them. Seeing the two little ones at a glance, she immediately raised the flashlight in her hand and waved it.

Ming Weiting didn’t stop, carrying Huo Miao on his back, and followed behind Madam Ren back to the villa.

The fireplace had already been lit by Ren Shuangmei in advance. The flames danced warmly, warming that area up nicely.

Ming Weiting carefully placed Luo Chi on the sofa by the fireplace before preparing to take his leave and return to the cruise ship. He was about to get up when he found that Luo Chi, drowsy, was curled up on the sofa, one hand still unconsciously clutching his shirt.

“It’s an injury. We’ve seen a doctor. It’s not suitable for surgery.”

Ren Shuangmei met Ming Weiting’s gaze, as if she had guessed what he wanted to ask. “It needs slow physical therapy. It will probably take a few years to recover.”

Ming Weiting nodded. He squatted in front of the sofa, and with a light touch, wiped away the cold sweat soaked in Huo Miao’s eyelashes.

Ren Shuangmei had been taking care of Luo Chi and knew very well where he was most uncomfortable at this time and where he didn’t want to move at all. She gently lifted the little one.

She let Huo Miao lean against her and expertly took care of her little one, then asked Ming Weiting, “With such heavy rain, would you like to stay the night?”

Ming Weiting was helping her. Hearing this, he was startled and looked up at Madam Ren.

“After all, you are Huo Miao’s new friend. With such heavy rain, it’s not safe to go back.”

Ren Shuangmei met his gaze, smiled, and said in a gentle tone, “I’m not sure if you’re used to it—if you’re willing to stay, I’ll have someone prepare a guest room. It will be ready soon…”

She was halfway through her sentence when Huo Miao, who had woken up, tugged gently on her sleeve twice. The two whispered a few words. …

Ren Shuangmei was a little surprised. She looked up and carefully examined Ming Weiting.

Besides herself, this was the first time Huo Miao had proactively wanted to chat with someone, wanted to have someone stay.

“…Or you can stay with Huo Miao in his room. You two can talk for a while before sleeping.” Ren Shuangmei was a little curious. “Did you two have a particularly happy chat?”

Ming Weiting nodded. He actually really wanted to chat more with Huo Miao and ask him about the guitar. “If it’s not a bother, I would be very honored.”

“Of course not.” Ren Shuangmei smiled and shook her head. “Thank you for bringing Huo Miao home.”

She was very happy with her little one’s progress and quietly gave Huo Miao a high-five.

“The bathroom is also upstairs. Go take a hot shower.” Ren Shuangmei said, “The bed at home is very spacious. It’s more than enough for you two to lie down, even if you chat all night.”