Chapter 495: Spring Blossoms, Reluctant to Leave

From tomorrow onward, I will become a happy man—
feeding horses, chopping firewood, and wandering freely across the world.

From tomorrow onward, I will care about grain and vegetables;
I will have a house of my own, one that faces the boundless sea, where spring is warm and flowers bloom in abundance.

These were once the dreams written in the poem by the Chinese poet Hai Zi, a quiet vision of simple happiness—living peacefully in a house facing the sea while spring blossoms flourish around it.

And now, strangely enough, that dream had become Zhu Ping’an’s reality.

Well… almost.

Aside from feeding horses and traveling the world, nearly everything else described in that poem had already turned into Zhu Ping’an’s current life.

He had a cave that faced the endless sea.
Around the cave entrance, wildflowers and creeping vines had been carefully arranged and cultivated. Pebbles gathered from the shore had been laid out to form a winding little path leading to the entrance, twisting and curving naturally like something shaped by time itself. Though it was only a cave on a lonely island, the place now looked almost like a seaside villa.

And just as the poem had described—the air was warm, and flowers were blooming everywhere.

Vegetables, wild fruits, fish, and shrimp had to be gathered every single day without pause. Not only were they needed for that day’s meals, but Zhu Ping’an, together with Li Shu and the maid Huā’er, would also preserve the excess. They threaded fish and shrimp together using long creeping vines, hanging the strings outside the cave where the sea breeze and sunlight slowly dried them.

Over time, those became strips of dried fish and shrimp—precious reserve rations for the uncertain days ahead.

Chopping firewood was equally unavoidable.

Three days had already passed since they were stranded on the island. By now, the three of them had gradually begun to adapt to life here. Yet even as they struggled to adjust, Zhu Ping’an never once stopped thinking about rescue—or about saving themselves.

He firmly believed that, somewhere beyond the horizon, ships must already be searching for them.

Even if the Marquis of Linhuai had given up hope, surely Li Shu’s family would not abandon her. His own family wouldn’t either. The Li family possessed more than enough wealth and influence to fund a large-scale search.

Moreover, not long ago the Jiajing Emperor had temporarily relaxed the maritime ban, reopening opportunities for sea travel and trade. That alone increased the chances that ships might be moving through these waters.

But if rescue ships really were searching…

How would they notice this tiny island?

How would they ever know that the three of them were stranded here?

That question had become a constant concern in Zhu Ping’an’s mind.

The ocean stretched endlessly in all directions, dotted with countless islands—many of them quite large. Even if hundreds of ships and hundreds of men were scattered across the sea searching for them, finding three people on a random island would still be little better than searching for a needle in the ocean.

Therefore, the key was simple:

They had to make sure rescuers noticed this island.

Carving “SOS” into the sand would be completely useless. There were no GPS satellites, no BeiDou navigation systems, no helicopters scanning from the sky. Any signal written on the beach would be invisible from passing ships.

After thinking about it carefully, Zhu Ping’an remembered something from ancient times—

Beacon towers.

In ancient China, beacon towers had served as a vital method of relaying military warnings across vast distances. When danger appeared, soldiers would ignite beacon fires, sending smoke by day and flames by night to transmit urgent signals.

On this isolated island, there was no better way to send a message than fire and smoke.

So Zhu Ping’an built one.

Outside the cave, in a patch of open ground, he stacked stones carefully until they formed a crude beacon tower more than a meter high. Around it, he stored piles of firewood—some gathered by Li Shu and the chubby little maid, others cut down by Zhu Ping’an himself using a crude stone axe he had fashioned from island rocks.

The axe was terribly rough, but it worked.

During the day, he would fill the beacon tower with damp firewood and moisture-laden vines, producing thick columns of dark smoke that rose high into the sky.

At night, he would burn dry wood instead, creating bright flames that could be seen from far across the sea.

If any ships passed nearby—and if their crews were attentive enough—they would surely notice the smoke during the day or the firelight at night.

At least, that was the hope.

As a joke, Zhu Ping’an even appointed Li Shu as the Commander of the Beacon Tower, while the chubby maid was promoted to Deputy Commander.

The little maid bounced around excitedly, thrilled by her new “official position.”

Li Shu, however, simply rolled her eyes in disdain.

Aside from preparing for rescue, Zhu Ping’an was also quietly working on a second plan for survival—

Building a raft.

That task, unfortunately, was far from easy.

The stone axe he had made was crude and blunt, making it extremely difficult to cut down trees. There were driftwood trunks scattered across the island, but after tapping and inspecting them carefully, Zhu Ping’an judged them too fragile. If they were used to build a raft, they might break apart in the open sea.

Dangerous.

Even though cutting fresh timber was slow and exhausting, safety had to come first.

Slow was better than sinking.

From Li Shu’s perspective, however, life on this island was not entirely unpleasant.

When she cooked fish soup, Zhu Ping’an often came over to help—adding firewood to the flames, chatting idly, or occasionally cracking ridiculous jokes.

Like the one he had told two days ago.

Every time Li Shu remembered it, she couldn’t help smiling inwardly—though she also scolded him in her heart for ruining the mood.

It was like burning a zither to cook a crane—completely destroying elegance with vulgarity.

That day, when she was cooking fish soup, Zhu Ping’an had been staring blankly into the pot for a long time.

She had teased him for it.

“Your eyeballs are about to fall into the pot.”

He lifted his head and stared at her blankly for quite a while, as if lost in thought. Then he suddenly said something strange—something Li Shu still remembered vividly.

“The things inside the pot are talking,” Zhu Ping’an said seriously, pointing at the bubbling fish soup.

“You can’t hear them?”

Li Shu had rolled her eyes.

“How could they possibly talk?”

“Listen carefully,” Zhu Ping’an said solemnly. “The fish are saying—”

‘I keep my eyes open every moment
because I can’t bear to leave your side.’

At that moment, Li Shu’s heart suddenly started beating much faster.

“What nonsense are you saying?”

Her voice had become slightly unsteady.

But Zhu Ping’an continued.

“The fish said it. And listen—now the water is speaking too.”

He looked straight at her and said slowly:

“The water tells the fish:
‘I flow endlessly, never growing tired,
because I want to surround you
and hold you gently in my embrace.’”

When Li Shu heard those words while he was looking directly at her—

Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

Her face flushed bright red. She suddenly felt flustered and awkward, not knowing what to do.

For a moment she thought that blockhead of a man had finally said something romantic.

But then—

That wretched toad continued:

“And the pot says—
‘You idiots are almost cooked already, and you’re still being stubborn!’”

At that moment, Li Shu had almost thrown the man into the pot together with the fish.

Idiot!
Blockhead!!!

Completely ruining the atmosphere!

Burning a zither to cook a crane—absolutely destroying the mood.

Still…

When she thought about it later, it was actually rather amusing.

Over the past few days on the island, many things like that had happened.

They had gone to the western side of the island together to catch birds, gather bird eggs, hunt lobsters, and pick up crabs.

The birds on this island were unbelievably foolish.

According to Zhu Ping’an, it was because of the maritime ban. For perhaps a hundred years or more, no one had lived on this island, and no hunters had ever come here. The birds had never seen humans before.

So they weren’t afraid of people at all.

Catching them was surprisingly easy.

Huge flocks of seabirds filled the skies, so many that they seemed to darken the heavens. They had black feathers and white heads.

Fortunately, they weren’t very attractive-looking.

Otherwise Li Shu might not have had the heart to eat them.

Although they weren’t pretty…

They tasted delicious.

Usually Zhu Ping’an would ask Li Shu and Huā’er to stand nearby holding handfuls of grass seeds to lure the birds closer.

Then Zhu Ping’an would suddenly dash forward and grab them.

Out of ten attempts, he succeeded three or five times.

Whenever he killed a bird, he would always mutter the same strange line:

“Little bird, little bird, don’t be angry.
You’re a dish for humans today.
Go early this year—
Come early again next year.”

Li Shu never dared to handle the birds herself. Zhu Ping’an always did it.

Birds were everywhere on the island, and so were their eggs.

Zhu Ping’an had discovered the nests first. On the sun-facing beach, there were small raised sand mounds. Digging them open often revealed several eggs hidden inside.

They never took them all.

Only half from each nest.

Even so, they could gather dozens of eggs each time.

When the tide receded, Zhu Ping’an would take Li Shu and Huā’er to the beach to collect crabs.

The crabs here were huge.

Sometimes they even found lobsters—massive, fat ones.

Once, Li Shu picked up a lobster nearly the size of a duck.

At times, she even found herself thinking—

If the three of them lived on this island forever…

Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad life after all.

Sometimes, when she looked at the beacon tower—

Smoke rising during the day, flames burning at night—

A strange thought would quietly appear in her heart.

More than once, she had felt the impulse to extinguish it.

Spring was warm.
Flowers were blooming.

And suddenly…

She didn’t want to leave.