Chapter Thirty-Seven: Yearning for Home

“Miaoyun, Miaoyun, come out quickly! Hurry, someone needs saving!”
As soon as he entered the village, Liu Quan shouted at the top of his lungs.
Hearing the commotion, Miaoyun hurried over and was stunned at the sight of the battered and bruised Qin Zhen.
“Weren’t you just going fishing? How did you end up like this?”
She quickly said, “Hurry, bring him inside!”
The villagers, hearing Qin Zhen was hurt, dropped whatever they were doing and swarmed over, completely surrounding Qin Zhen’s house.
“What happened?”
“I heard the Dragon King appeared at sea and Qin Zhen happened to be there. Many people died!”
“No wonder. The Dragon King is a sea deity—anger a god, and disaster is sure to follow! We told them not to fish, but they wouldn’t listen! Now see what’s happened!”
“Now that something’s happened to Qin Zhen, who knows if we’ll still get paid…”
The onlookers were many—some sneering, some anxious.
Life in the little fishing village was hard to leave behind, and everyone knew Qin Zhen was to thank for it. Yet, with his accident, few cared for his fate; they only worried if they could still work here, if there’d still be steamed buns and rice porridge.
For all its daily bustle, most people in the village were laborers who’d come from elsewhere. Few truly felt this was their home.
Aside from the original villagers, only a handful of recent settlers really belonged.
“Zhen!”
As soon as Liu Quan laid Qin Zhen on the heated brick bed, Liu Juan rushed in.
Seeing Qin Zhen unconscious and unmoving, she was overcome with grief, nearly fainting several times.
If not for those supporting her, she would have collapsed.
Grabbing Miaoyun’s hand, she pleaded desperately, “Miss Miaoyun, I beg you, please save Zhen!”
“Yes, Priestess, our little fishing village can’t do without Zhen!” the old village chief said, wiping his tears.
“I’ll check his injuries first. Don’t worry, I won’t let him die,” Miaoyun answered at once.
She felt for Qin Zhen’s pulse—disordered, but thankfully strong enough—and breathed a sigh of relief.
Then she undid his tattered clothes. The sight of his wounds drew sharp gasps from everyone present.
Bruises, blood, lacerations—his body was covered in them.
It was hard to imagine what dangers this sixteen-year-old had faced.
Liu Juan, seeing his condition, could not stop her tears.
The old chief was so shocked he didn’t know what to do.

“Fortunately, there are no fatal wounds.” After checking him thoroughly and finding mostly external injuries, Miaoyun relaxed. “He was probably battered by a school of fish in the water. The boy’s exhausted and fainted, but he’ll recover after a few days’ rest.”
Hearing that Qin Zhen would be all right, everyone breathed easier.
“That’s a relief, thank goodness!” the old chief beamed, tears turning to smiles.
Liu Quan collapsed onto the ground, the tension in his heart finally easing as he grinned and panted.
“I’ll take a few people out to gather herbs later—they’ll help him recover,” Miaoyun said.
“Let me go. It’ll be dark soon, and the woods aren’t safe,” Chen Shu said in a low voice. “Just tell me what you need; I know a few and should be able to find them.”
Miaoyun told Chen Shu the herbs she needed. He and a group of men rushed out.
Just then, a startled cry came from outside—Liu Yan’er’s voice.
“The Hanzi brothers are back! And they brought a huge fish!”
Everyone except Liu Juan rushed out to see what the legendary Dragon King looked like.
There on a wooden cart lay a monstrous fish, four or five meters long!
“So that’s the Dragon King? Doesn’t look like much! Where are its horns?”
“Look at those rows of teeth, still bloody! If it bit you, you’d be dead for sure!”
“Qin Zhen fought with a beast like that?”
“You know nothing. Qin Zhen’s fought bears before—a mere monster fish is nothing to him!”
While people speculated and argued, anguished cries suddenly broke through the hubbub.
Several women knelt before another cart, grieving over the mutilated bodies atop it.
Miaoyun trembled as she hurried over, unable to look, only clutching Li Han’s arm.
“Han, where’s Shanhai?”
“Shanhai’s at Deepwater Bay, counting the catch with Erniu,” Li Han replied, calming Miaoyun’s nerves. “Shanhai can’t swim; Zhen didn’t let him go in the water.”
There was a bitterness in Li Han’s voice.
But those who had gone into the water—some would never return.
“See? All that for a little money. Someone once asked me to join the fishing crew, said the pay was good, and I was tempted. Now I’m glad I didn’t. If I had, who knows if I’d be the one dead!”
“Exactly! Better to do hard labor in the village. Less pay but at least it’s safe!”
“To be honest, they were fools. Why not send someone else in? Why risk their own lives? If you ask me, dying was their own fault!”

The keening of the bereaved families contrasted sharply with the villagers’ cold sarcasm.
Such words kindled fury among the fishing crew.
“What did you just say?” Liu Quan snarled, ready to lash out.
But a voice stopped him.
“They are heroes!”
A cold, weak voice rose behind them.
Supported by Liu Juan, the battered Qin Zhen stepped forward.
The crowd parted for the youth who had fought the tiger shark, their eyes drawn to the broken bodies before him. Qin Zhen was overwhelmed with guilt.
It was his failure to plan that had led to this tragedy.
Several families had lost their loved ones, their breadwinners.
“If not for their sacrifice, would you have fish to eat, soup to drink?”
“If not for their risking their lives at sea, how many in the village would have starved?”
“They gave their lives for all of you. They are the heroes of our little fishing village!”
His words silenced the crowd.
The fishing crew was deeply moved.
Qin Zhen struggled to the bereaved, gently helping them up.
“From today,” he said solemnly, “the pay for the fishing and village patrol teams will be doubled! Any man who dies for the village, I will care for his wife and children as my own! As long as I live, I will not let my brothers’ families suffer!”
Miaoyun stared in awe at his slight figure.
Compared to the massive tiger shark, he seemed not small, but all the more noble and unyielding.
She suddenly remembered her master’s dying words:
“The dragon’s spirit is in the east, revealed at the sea.”
Was this fate?
As if drawn by destiny, Qin Zhen lifted his head and met Miaoyun’s gaze.
Those deep, unspoken brown-black eyes stirred her heart, shaking her very soul.