With the whole ship either drunk or asleep, he was the only one awake — and that was quite a lot to bear.

Cen Jin was sleeping soundly. Wei Lai didn’t want to disturb her, and with nothing else to do, he turned to sorting through the luggage bag — after all, the negotiation was over, they’d be getting off the ship soon, and it needed to be done sooner or later.

In the past, his clothes had always been bundled and shoved in carelessly. It was rare that he felt the inclination now — with no one to teach him, he figured it out himself: levelling the edges, tucking in the corners, folding everything into neat, even squares.

He quietly admired his own untapped potential: in the future he could also try domestic work. The opportunities to earn a living in this world really were everywhere.

He went through the contents: two passports, a few changes of clothes, small travel-sized toiletries, a short roll of drawing paper folded at the edge to hold pencils, a small notebook, a simple travel cup with a lip mark on the rim, paper currency from several countries crumpled together…

The only weapons were a dagger and the Desert Eagle. If they ran into more danger, this equipment was truly meagre.

Wei Lai thought for a moment, then opened the door and went out, locking it firmly behind him.

What he saw along the way was a spectacle: what on earth had these pirates gotten up to the previous night? Among those sprawled out in every direction, there was one who had somehow dressed himself as a woman — a curtain cloth wrapped around him like an ultra-short skirt, and two rounded protrusions rising from his chest. Wei Lai couldn’t help leaning in to look more closely: a small iron bowl had been placed upside-down on each side.

The feel of that…

He flicked one with his finger. It rang out: clang, clang.

He himself was decidedly more fortunate.

He walked to the end of the corridor and pulled open the hatch to the deck.

Wind, not strong; visibility perhaps two or three metres; a sea of ochre yellow in every direction.

The previous day, Sha Di had said that when a major sandstorm swept through the Red Sea, ports shut down. So right now, across this vast stretch of sea, there was perhaps only this one ship.

No wonder it felt like being abandoned at the edge of the world — still and silent.

A thin layer of sand had settled on the deck. He took a couple of steps and looked back: his footprints were pressed into it as cleanly as if a shoe mould had been stamped.

He was looking for Hu Sha. Hu Sha invariably slept in the wheelhouse, and the satellite phone was with him.

Sure enough, he found him there. Four people had crammed themselves inside — a more than ample space, and yet they’d piled themselves up like bundled sacks. Hu Sha was at the very bottom, drool spread across half his face, snoring magnificently. On top of the pile was the young boy who was barely ten years old, sprawled out with limbs flung wide, his sleeping face radiating a look of complete satisfaction and smug contentment.

Getting to sleep on top of the chief — he was probably grinning in his dreams too. But when Hu Sha woke up would be a different matter entirely; this whole lot of them would probably be in for a sound thrashing.

Wei Lai carefully lifted the young boy and set him aside. His body was soft and light, and he even scrunched up his brows with mild irritation — this was the only moment he actually looked like a child.

The others would just have to take their thrashing. Cen Jin had said: she wasn’t a bodhisattva — she couldn’t save all sentient beings.

He tugged the satellite phone out from Hu Sha’s embrace.

Making ordinary calls from a satellite phone wasn’t cheap, so he planned to tuck it back when he was done without ever mentioning it to Hu Sha. Best if it was never noticed; if it was, it didn’t much matter — Hu Sha would at most glare at him.

But he would forgive Hu Sha’s pettiness. His mood was excellent right now — he could forgive the whole world.

Wei Lai settled onto the railing surrounding the wheelhouse, pulled out the satellite phone’s antenna, and dialled.

He only kept three numbers in his head.

The first was Milu’s.

Milu picked up quickly, and the moment she recognised his voice, offered her congratulations: “Wei, the Saudis called me last night — I know the negotiation was a success. Wonderful, another job, no failures yet — congratulations.”

It was certainly cause for congratulations. But as far as he was concerned, the most congratulation-worthy thing was decidedly not that. The ancient wisdom of it was clearly shared — the three great joys of life as the old saying went included the wedding night, but not once was “the moment a negotiation succeeds” ever listed.

He casually informed Milu: “I’ve also been hired by Miss Cen for the second leg. I’ll be accompanying her back.”

Milu said: “Oh…”

The drawn-out tone stretched long, carrying a note of disbelief: “Why would she hire you?”

“Because I performed well, of course.”

“And her offer… was it reasonable?”

Then quickly explained, apparently worried Wei Lai might read too much into it: “I’m not looking to take a share of yours — whatever you negotiate yourself is all yours… I was just asking.”

Wei Lai said: “The offer was very generous.”

She offered herself — of course it all goes to me. You’d try to take a share… go right ahead and try.

After reaching Milu, he dialled the second number — Ke Ke Shu’s.

Ke Ke Shu answered in his usual unhurried way, taking a long time to pick up, as if he’d just been woken: “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

Ke Ke Shu caught on: “Wei, you… the negotiation… is it done?”

“More or less. And you?”

Ke Ke Shu was nearly finished too — the job in South Sudan was winding down, and he’d be back in Wuda within a day or two.

Wei Lai said: “Need a favour.”

“Help me sort something out — once we’re off the ship, I need to be able to get hold of fresh equipment right away. You know what happened to Cen Jin at sea; I need to be prepared. The route we came by isn’t safe, so I don’t plan to double back. The car’s still in the village — if you can spare it, leave it; if not, send someone to deal with it.”

Ke Ke Shu said: “Let me check the map, give me a moment.”

From the other end came the rustling sound of turning large sheets of paper.

“Wei, I heard the pirate ship is currently anchored in the Red Sea. If they head back to Somalia, they’ll travel south the whole way. Have them drop you at the Suakin border — there’s a small town called Komke. I have a friend there who can set you up with weapons.”

Suakin border. Small town. Komke.

Wei Lai committed these words to memory. He wasn’t familiar with African geography, and the place names were awkward and tongue-twisting; whenever it mattered, he had no choice but to repeat them until they stuck, then relay them to someone who knew the region.

“If you’d rather not retrace your steps, you could consider Ethiopia — it borders Sudan. We call it E Gao. It’s a highland, and right now is the short rainy season, just before the long rainy season sets in. Not hot. You’ll like it there.”

A true brother — he knew Wei Lai couldn’t stand the heat.

Near the end of the call, Ke Ke Shu returned to an old subject: “You really won’t come to Wuda? Wei, think about it — you’ve never been to my place. If you come to Africa again, it could be a next-life sort of thing.”

Wei Lai laughed, then paused and said: “We’ll see. Once Cen Jin is onshore she’ll likely be in danger — Wuda is so far away…”

A long night breeds many dreams. He was worried something would happen.

Ke Ke Shu was puzzled: “She genuinely doesn’t know who wants to kill her?”

“I asked. She says she doesn’t know.”

“And you just believe that?”

“What do you mean?”

Ke Ke Shu shrugged: “I just think — anyone should have some degree of awareness. To pursue someone from Northern Europe all the way to Africa, all the way to the sea — a grudge like that isn’t born from a squabble of traded insults.”

“For someone to have provoked such a formidable enemy — even without being entirely certain, there should be some rough outline of a suspicion somewhere in the back of the mind. She could at least share the general direction of her suspicion with you — it would save you from being completely in the dark…”

The third call was to Ai Lin — he simply wanted to ask how the white peace lily was getting on.

It was all that chef Lin Yongfu’s fault, nattering on at him with things like “plants and flowers carry a certain mystery — they bring safe passage on a journey” and “if you are safe, it will flourish.”

He’d dismissed it as a joke at first and paid it no mind. But gradually he had begun to feel a creeping uncertainty — he wanted this journey to be safe, wanted everything he encountered along the way concerning himself and her to be a good omen.

Ai Lin replied: “It’s doing wonderfully — growing beautifully. Wei, this flower really does bring people good fortune, let me tell you…”

The signal cut off.

Wei Lai looked up. The wind had picked up; a new wave of sandstorm was sweeping through. Heavy sandstorms or snowfall could interfere with satellite signals.

The screen showed it was working to re-establish connection, but Wei Lai decided there was no need.

He tucked the satellite phone back into Hu Sha’s arms.

If you are safe, it will flourish.

Since it was “doing wonderfully” and “growing beautifully” — that was a good omen, wasn’t it?

——

Back at the door of the compartment, he remembered he’d locked it. Twisting the handle didn’t work; he had to find a piece of wire and coax the lock open.

He pushed the door open and stopped.

Cen Jin was already awake, still lying on the bed, watching this direction with a trace of anxiety. When she saw it was him, her expression visibly eased; she let out a breath and lay back down.

Wei Lai shut the door: “So anxious?”

Cen Jin said: “You spent the night with a man, you wake up and he’s gone — left you alone on a ship full of pirates, and someone’s trying to pick the lock outside. If that were you, you’d be anxious too.”

Wei Lai came over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“And yet when the lock was being picked, you just lay there perfectly at ease — why didn’t you get up and grab something to defend yourself?”

Cen Jin closed her eyes, speaking with unhurried languor: “If it really turned out like that — abandoned by a man before the bed even had time to go cold — that would be so wretched, why bother defending yourself? Just leave it to fate and let come what may.”

Wei Lai was both amused and a little tender: “You trust me that little?”

He leaned down to kiss her; she pulled the draping cloth up to cover her face and said: “Get out of here.”

Wei Lai kissed her lips through the cloth: “Miss Cen, if you’re going to be like this, I’m going to file a complaint with the Saudis — last night, you held a gun to my head and told me you’d blow my brains out if I didn’t comply. I went along with you through tears, and now that it’s done, you’re telling me to get lost. Is that how you see fairness? Can a woman just take no responsibility at all?”

Cen Jin burst into a laugh despite herself.

Wei Lai laughed too, and leaned down, pulling the draping cloth from her face just enough, touching his forehead lightly to hers, asking her: “Does it hurt?”

Cen Jin nodded, a fine crease forming between her brows — he desperately wanted to kiss it smooth.

“Where?”

She said softly: “My back is terribly sore, I don’t want to move. And the area on my legs — it’s stinging and burning; it hurts even when I touch it myself.”

Wei Lai pulled the cloth aside a little. The bruising beneath her skin had deepened as the small bleeds spread — compared to what he’d seen earlier, the bruising and discolouration were now far more pronounced. The worst of it was concentrated on her legs, her waist, and her chest. Where his preferences lay was, to be fair, entirely self-evident.

Wei Lai felt a pang of guilt: “I thought you would love it… and find it comfortable…”

Cen Jin glanced at him with a half-smile: “Even if paper enjoys having a pen write on it, if the force is too great, the paper tears. After what you were doing last night, what made you think I wouldn’t be hurting? How long has it been since you last touched a woman?”

Wei Lai smiled: “My first half of life, I’d never touched you. I was too excited — lost control of myself. Next time I’ll be more careful.”

Cen Jin was immediately on guard: “Next time? When? After an interval of how many seconds?”

Wei Lai was both exasperated and amused: “You decide.”

She lifted her chin: “Whatever interval I choose?”

“Whatever you say.”

“What if I said one year?”

Wei Lai smiled: “That too, whatever you say.”

He said it without hesitation, because he was confident she wouldn’t.

Sure enough.

Cen Jin clenched her teeth, paused, then glared at him: “Today. You are absolutely not to touch me like that today.”

Wei Lai said: “Alright.”

He slid his arm around behind her back and drew her into his embrace, being careful not to press against her body. She laughed, and a flush crept suddenly across her cheeks.

Her voice dropped low, a whisper meant only for him: “Actually… aside from hurting a little… everything else — I really liked it.”

Wei Lai smiled quietly, at a loss for how to love her any more than he already did. After a pause he asked her softly: “Do you want to get off the ship today?”

She shook her head: “I don’t want to move today. I’m sleepy. Go tell Hu Sha we’re spending another night on the ship and getting off tomorrow.”

That was fine — those pirates were still out cold drunk anyway, and the probability of the ship setting off that day wasn’t high.

She was clearly truly exhausted; her whole person seemed languid, and before long her eyes drifted closed again. She murmured: “I’m too tired to talk. If you have something to say, say it — I’ll listen.”

Wei Lai gave a soft sound of assent, his movements as gentle as he could manage. He nuzzled and pressed kisses to her neck, her lashes, the curve of her ear, her collarbone, his hand stroking through her hair — Cen Jin clearly loved it, making no move to resist, and before she quite realised it she had curled herself into his arms.

It turned out this was very good too.

Intensity of skin was passionate; closeness at the temple and nape was leisurely and long.

In the future, they would live together.

Her clothes would be interleaved with his — folded together, or hung side by side, gently swaying, touching against each other. The image of it, when it came to him, actually stirred something in his chest.

His bed…

A typical single bed, very firm mattress. If she were there, he’d probably need something bigger and softer; more pillows needed as well…

Perhaps he should change where he lived. He wasn’t entirely at ease with her living there — that apartment block had seen a death, hadn’t it? The security guard Ma Ke had even taken a knife wound over the incident.

Ai Lin had said something that really made sense: save some money, marry a girl you like, buy a big apartment…

He could live rough on his own; with her along, that wouldn’t do — even if she didn’t mind, he would.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Back then, at the interview — why did you choose me?”

Cen Jin’s body in his arms gave a slight, sudden stiffness.

She slowly opened her eyes, a look somewhere between exasperated and amused on her face: “You won’t let it rest until you get to the bottom of it, will you?”

“I just felt — perhaps now the timing is right for me to ask.”

Cen Jin looked at him quietly for a while, then said softly: “I’ll tell you in a while, but not right now — is that alright?”

Still not the right moment?

Wei Lai smiled.

After a pause, he said: “Then can you promise me one thing?”

“What?”

“Cen Jin — promise me that I am not part of any plan you’ve made.”

Cen Jin looked into his eyes.

A long moment passed, and the corners of her eyes suddenly grew sore. She said softly: “You fool.”

She reached out her hand and hooked it around his neck. Wei Lai leaned down and buried his face in the hollow of her throat.

He heard her say, close to his ear: “Every plan I’ve ever made in my whole life doesn’t compare to you — this unexpected thing that crashed into it from out of nowhere. Wei Lai, you’re so good that I never could have planned for you.”

——