Chapter 473: To Think Closely is to be Terrified

The ancient sea was a blue so pure and boundless that it seemed untouched by time itself. A crescent-shaped bay cradled a pool of seawater in its embrace, the surface shimmering like polished jade beneath the sun. Layer upon layer of scaled waves rolled forward, and when they broke, the spray leapt into the air like scattered snowflakes, dazzling and cold.

Golden sand stretched along the shore, warm and fine as powdered silk. Beyond it lay lush islands cloaked in thriving greenery, their foliage vibrant and alive, stirred gently by the wind. Everything was breathtakingly beautiful—so serene that it felt almost unreal, like a painting brushed into existence by a patient god.

And yet, upon that flawless golden beach, there came the sound of sobbing—raw and desperate. It jarred against the idyllic scenery, a harsh tear in an otherwise perfect canvas. Draw closer, and one would see three figures sprawled upon the sand, soaked to the bone like castaways pulled from the depths.

“Zhu Ping’an, wake up!”

Li Shu, drenched from head to toe, clutched the unconscious Zhu Ping’an whose head rested upon her lap. His eyes were tightly shut, his face pale beneath the salt crust on his skin. No matter how she called to him, there was no response. The terrible stillness of his body shattered her composure, and she broke down, her cries torn from somewhere deep within her chest.

“Young Master! Young Master!”

The bun-faced little maid wept beside them, wiping at her tears again and again. She looked like a puppy abandoned by the world, her sobs coming in ragged, breathless bursts.

In truth, their presence on this shore was nothing short of a miracle. At the most critical moment, Zhu Ping’an had thrown himself between Li Shu and the jagged reef, using his own body as a shield. The impact had struck him unconscious, while Li Shu, protected by him, had suffered only scraped skin and shallow cuts.

After he collided with the reef, another towering wave surged forward, sweeping both Li Shu and Zhu Ping’an together and hurling them toward the shore.

The little maid had been carried in earlier by the previous wave, sparing her the worst of the struggle.

Once ashore, Li Shu and the maid had dragged the unconscious Zhu Ping’an higher up the beach with trembling hands, pulling him far from the hungry reach of the tide.

He had been struck hard by the waves just now. Before that, he had already sustained serious injuries while fighting pirates aboard the sea vessel, and more wounds in the fierce struggle inside the wooden cabinet. Then, moments ago, in saving Li Shu, he had exhausted the last of his strength. All of it—the injuries, the collision, the strain—had descended upon him at once. It would have been a miracle if he could remain standing after such torment.

No matter how Li Shu called his name, he would not wake. She shook him gently, then harder—still no reaction. Terror bloomed in her heart. What if… what if he had truly met with calamity?

The thought alone broke her. She collapsed into uncontrollable sobs.

When her gaze fell upon the scars and wounds scattered across his body, her tears flowed even more fiercely. Nearly every mark told a story of how he had saved her. The wound at the corner of his mouth—he had bitten through thick seaweed to free her. The gash at his neck—earned while battling pirates. Each bruise, each cut, was a silent testament to his reckless protection.

“Zhu Ping’an, please wake up…”

He lay there motionless upon her lap, covered in injuries, as still as driftwood. Li Shu’s tears burst forth as if a dam had broken within her.

The waves roared. The sea wind lashed against her face.

Li Shu wept helplessly, as though she had lost her entire world. Her complexion was ashen, her heart seeming to cease its beating. Only her sobs remained—each cry drawn from her soul thread by thread. Clear tears pooled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, falling one by one onto Zhu Ping’an’s face, onto his cracked, parched lips.

The salty warmth of her tears moistened his lips, as though imbued with some quiet magic.

His finger twitched—so faint it was almost imperceptible.

“Water…”

In his unconsciousness, Zhu Ping’an’s pale lips moved. The word escaped in a barely audible murmur.

“Wuu…”

Lost in grief, Li Shu did not hear him. But the little maid, who was sobbing beside them, caught the faint whisper. Her eyes widened. She pointed urgently at Zhu Ping’an.

“Miss! Miss! The Young Master spoke!”

At once, Li Shu’s crying halted—though the momentum of her sobbing left her shoulders trembling. She lowered her head, still choking back tears, and looked at him.

“Water…”

The faint murmur came again.

“Quick, Hua’er, quickly—go fetch some water!”

Hope flared in Li Shu’s eyes like a spark igniting dry tinder. It was as though her withered soul had suddenly sprouted anew. Wiping her tears, she urged the little maid on in a trembling voice.

The maid nodded vigorously. She dashed off with her short legs pumping furiously. The Young Master wasn’t dead. That was wonderful—wonderful! Strength surged back into her limbs. If she brought water, he would wake. He had to wake. The more she thought about it, the faster she ran, wiping her tears as she went. Within moments, she disappeared over the slope into the island’s interior.

The island was lush and thick with life. Nearby lay a meadow bursting with flowers; further in stood clusters of shrubs, and beyond them rolling hills and dense forest. The maid ran inside, staring blankly at the abundance of greenery around her.

Who was there?

She turned in circles, bewildered. Flowers, grass, trees—but no water. Panic tightened her chest. Tears spilled again. What should she do? The Young Master needed water. Without water, how could he wake?

What to do, what to do…

Crying, she ran deeper, but still found nothing except tangled undergrowth and thick trunks. Perhaps there was water in the mountains—but he needed it now. He couldn’t wait.

Why am I so useless?

Standing amidst the shrubs, she sobbed helplessly. And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw the rolling expanse of the sea.

How could I forget? Isn’t the sea full of water?

Realization struck. She turned and sprinted back toward the shore, her little legs moving so fast they seemed almost wind-driven.

In no time she reached the water’s edge. There was water everywhere—but nothing to hold it in.

Just when despair threatened again, she spotted a large seashell near the tide line. Hope surged. She rushed over, snatched it up, rinsed it hastily in the sea, and filled it to the brim with seawater. Cradling the heavy shell carefully in both hands, she ran back as fast as she could.

“Miss! The water’s here!” she cried excitedly, breathless.

“Quickly!”

Seeing Zhu Ping’an’s cracked lips, Li Shu’s heart ached unbearably. She urged the maid again and again, her voice trembling with urgency.

Finally, the maid arrived, panting. Li Shu seized the shell, carefully lifted Zhu Ping’an’s head, and brought the brimming shell toward his lips.

“Where did you get this water?”

As she raised it closer, she noticed the color of the water and frowned in confusion.

“By the sea, of course! The sea is full of water,” the maid replied, pointing toward the shore.

“What?!”

Li Shu’s face changed instantly, as though she had heard something horrifying. Without hesitation, she flung the seawater from the shell, scattering it onto the sand as if it were poison.

“Miss, you—”

The little maid stared in shock.

She had thrown away the water meant for the Young Master.

The Young Master needed water. At a time like this, Miss had discarded it. Was she—was she trying to harm him?

The thought alone made the maid tremble from head to toe.