"The Trident seemed utterly trapped by the seawater, struggling in the abyss where vertical sea-walls stood, yet making seemingly no headway at all. In the cockpit, we gripped each other's hands for courage, each searching the other's face for a spark of confidence to face the unimaginable trial before us. But under the awe-inspiring shock of this fundamental shift in the world, everyone looked at each other, and not a single face looked good—all were ashen, like dead ashes.

Just then, that metallic roar, much like the sound of snapping steel cables, suddenly rushed closer. A massive shadow slowly emerged from above the water walls—the wreck of the front half of a colossal steel vessel, slowly probing out of the liquid barrier, like a ship sailing through the sky, arriving at the vertical waterfall of water, clearly about to plunge to the lower sea level.

The scene on the water at that moment was entirely steeped in an indescribable, boundless horror. In an almost frozen instant, it seemed two seas appeared simultaneously, one above and one below the ship: one sea suspended in the sky, and the other, the one the Trident strained uselessly against. From the sea hanging in the sky, countless things dragged up from the seabed began to fall—wrecked anchors, whale bones, monstrous sea creatures—everything sedimented on the ocean floor had been overturned. Before our eyes were millions of tons of seawater, carried aloft by rising sea vapors, splitting into hundreds of thick water walls hanging overhead. The debris of a sunken ship, too, was thrust into the sky by the powerful updraft, and because it was near the edge, the wreckage of the nameless great ship, just like the sea fish flung out by the water, was about to slide down from that great height.

Uncle Ming pointed desperately toward the sky, his mouth open in a voiceless shout, but no one could hear him over the incessant roaring. I knew he was likely trying to yell, 'The wreck is going to smash down right above us!' But language was useless then. I waved my hands forcefully, pointing left, signaling the helmsman, Ruan Hei: 'If you don't hurry up and steer us out of here, we’re finished...'

Blood vessels bulging on his forehead, Captain Ruan Hei wrestled with the helm. The Trident's hull finally wrenched sideways with a hard jolt. The dark wreckage of the giant ship fell like a heavy bomb dropped from the sky, striking the patch of sea where the Trident's bow had just been situated. Water splashed up, generating a powerful wave that slammed into the hull, tossing it about like a fallen leaf in the wind, fraught with imminent peril at every moment.

Hardly had the fallen wreck struck the water when all the water columns on the surface were suddenly sucked skyward. The two sections of water separated, and thick water walls obscured all sight of the sky. Black clouds gathered, making the sea surface infinitely dark. In the blink of an eye, recognition was lost within arm's reach. After a brief stillness, a violent gale suddenly erupted, and the rain poured down like a torrent. I had never seen rain this heavy in my life. The wind and waves churned, as if the Heavenly River itself was pouring down, the sea surface boiling and churning in wild, muddy waves. The Trident pitched violently on the surface beneath the tempest, hurled up and down by one colossal wave after another.

We clung tightly to every fixed object within reach inside the cabin, feeling as though our very viscera were being thrown skyward by the surging waves only to plummet into bottomless abysses along with our fragile, leaf-like vessel, completely disoriented. When reduced to this state, one has no control whatsoever, left only to fate.

Although the sea vapor had dissipated, it had formed a hurricane on the water’s surface. Above the surging tides and the ocean’s massive, foam-crested waves, our only hope rested on the Trident, the sea willow vessel meticulously modified by the British, being able to withstand this ordeal. However, even seasoned sea wolves like Uncle Ming and Ruan Hei couldn't gauge how long this storm would last.

Under these conditions, the most miserable soul among the salvage crew was Fatty. He especially couldn't bear being tossed up into the sky by the waves only to fall down like a broken kite. Seawater and torrential rain constantly battered the observation window of the pilot cabin. The boundary between sky and sea was obscured by gloom; it was impossible to distinguish up from down or front from back. Seeing this, his face had almost turned green with fright. Though the wind and waves were fierce now, the dragon-whine-like keen of the metallic wind in the air was gone. All one could hear was Fatty incessantly chanting, "Goddess Mazu, please bless us, Goddess Mazu, come quickly and protect us! When we return, I’ll light incense and offer fruit to recast your golden body... Your disciple offers a kowtow now, please save my life..."

I knew Fatty cared little for most things, but his acrophobia was insurmountable. Even closing his eyes, the old way of coping, was useless now, as massive ocean waves charged relentlessly without giving him a single moment to catch his breath. The fact that even he was praying to the gods showed how terrified he was. Fearing he might become paralyzed by fright and tumble out of the cabin into the sea, I quickly told Gu Cai and Sister Duo Ling to hold onto him tightly and keep him from doing anything rash out of sheer terror.

Uncle Ming, who relied on alcohol for courage at sea, took a few deep swigs from the bottle and, paradoxically, became calmer than the others. Hearing Fatty implore the Goddess Mazu for protection, he became utterly startled. In his desperation, he jammed the mouth of the bottle into Fatty's mouth: "Goddess...? Goddess, you big-headed fool! Fatty, are you out of your mind, daring to talk nonsense at a time like this... Drink! Drink and shut your mouth."

The Heavenly Empress is a deity revered by all people. In the past, whenever sailors encountered storms, praying for the Heavenly Empress's blessing would calm the waves and ensure the safety of the boat; this was always effective. However, there was a taboo here: the term "Heavenly Empress" (Tian Hou Niang Niang) was only to be used on land, such as when burning incense and fulfilling vows at a Temple of the Heavenly Empress (Mazu shrines). Then, one should refer to her as "Heavenly Empress" (Tian Hou). But when encountering storms and danger at sea, one must never call out for the blessing of the "Heavenly Empress," but rather must call out "Mazu's Blessing" (Ma Zu Bao You). Mentioning a plea to the Heavenly Empress for protection while at sea was strictly forbidden.

In reality, "Heavenly Empress" and "Mazu" refer to the same deity, but those who have sailed for years are almost all superstitious. According to the maritime superstitions, if people on a vessel facing the danger of capsizing in a raging storm shout for the Heavenly Empress to save them, the Heavenly Empress will certainly come to their aid, but she must first parade her retinue. The scale and ceremony of the Heavenly Empress leaving her palace are too grand and take up too much time. By the time the Heavenly Empress arrives with her royal carriage, it would be too late—unless one was tired of living, no crew or passenger would dare shout for the Heavenly Empress's help like that.

In an emergency at sea, one must shout, "Mazu's Blessing!" This allows the Heavenly Empress to travel unencumbered, appearing immediately at sea to relieve suffering in the guise of Mazu. This is the universally accepted regulation among sea wolves, which is why Uncle Ming, upon hearing Fatty shout for the Heavenly Empress, quickly stuffed his mouth with liquor, then led the shout in the storm, bellowing hoarsely: "Mazu, manifest your power!"