Duo Ling’s cooking leaned heavily towards the sour and sweet flavors of Vietnamese cuisine, and given the limited supplies aboard the vessel, the monotonous diet, day after monotonous day, felt like swallowing medicine. I choked down a few hurried bites before turning to the maps to describe the seabed topography to the crew. The “Coral Spiral” was actually an elliptical ring of islands, with treacherous reefs circling the perimeter—this was what the old sea wolf called the Outer Spiral. Inside the Outer Spiral, the terrain was complex, gradually rising toward the center. The highest point in the middle should be the “Ghost Island” that would surface when the tide receded. This entire area was likely a submerged mountain range from a continental shelf that had sunk. Several bottomless trenches cut through the seabed, leading out to the open sea.

Between the Outer Spiral and the Ghost Island lay an area depressed into a basin shape. The seabed was thick with Corallium ferreum, forming an undulating underwater forest. Some of the massive coral trees there soared dozens of meters high, impossibly reaching for the heavens; even underwater, they presented a truly spectacular sight. The most striking among them was a gigantic, semi-transparent tree with a texture like tortoiseshell. That location must be quite near the Sea Eye, a place where the essence of sun, moon, and sea vapor had condensed over millennia. This ancient tree was our primary target for the egg harvest, situated at a depth of about seventy or eighty meters.

Furthermore, beside this tree, there was a deep valley whose depth was impossible to gauge. Surviving crew members from the sunken Marie Céleste recalled that their ship was swept into the normally impassable Outer Spiral by a hurricane. The seabed where they sank was lit as bright as day—the clearest proof of the subterranean Dragon Fire burning beneath. I surmised that these underwater fissures were likely where the Southern Yin Fire spewed forth. If the depth exceeded two hundred meters, even knowing the Marie Céleste sank into one of those abyssal trenches, we would be helpless to do anything but gaze longingly at the waves. Moreover, strong undercurrents churned within those trenches; once dragged into the depths, heaven knew where that ship would end up.

After I finished speaking, the boat captain, Ruan Hei, offered his supplemental insights. Ruan Hei had experience as both a fisherman and an Eggman. One of the vital ways to make a living around Coral Temple Island was assisting salvage teams in retrieving the “Green Heads.” Eggmen themselves were essentially semi-professional divers. Based on his experience harvesting eggs and his knowledge of retrieving “Green Heads,” this underwater forest was infested with vicious fish, making descent for egg collection extremely perilous. However, what we had clearly seen just now in the diving bell—the ancient clams in the deep water all containing pearls, shimmering with the pure essence of lunar vitality—suggested a value I had never witnessed before. Such a naturally formed treasure, imbued with the concentrated spiritual energy of the sea, could probably only be found within the Coral Spiral.

Since ancient times, the people of the South Sea islands suffered most as Eggmen. If their experiences were compiled, they could easily fill a History of the Eggmen’s Blood and Tears far thicker than the Sea of Ci Poetry. Mother-of-pearl has always been categorized as “Eastern Pearl” and “Southern Pearl.” The Eastern Pearls, sourced from the Ningguta riverside region during the Qing Dynasty, weighed an average of two to three qian each, mostly sky-blue or white, with only a small percentage being pink. The largest Eastern Pearl ever recorded was accidentally found by a local child swimming in the river during the Kangxi era, retrieved from a clam; this pearl measured over an inch and a half in diameter.

When comparing the splendor and rarity of the finest pearls, while “Eastern Pearls” possessed their merits, they still paled in comparison to the top-tier “Southern Pearls.” Historically, “Southern Pearls” were reserved as tribute solely for the Emperor. Eggmen were forbidden from harvesting unless commanded, and during collection, they were constantly guarded by soldiers. Even when the sea conditions were terrible, making descent near impossible, the Eggmen were still forced to tie stones to themselves and dive. If a pearl was lost or if the required quota was missed, the punishment was amputation of the feet. Countless Eggmen died this way from antiquity to the present. Those few Eggmen who managed to secretly harvest a Southern Pearl were almost invariably exploited by unscrupulous merchants, netting only one ten-thousandth of the actual worth for the harvest procured at the risk of their lives.

The Eggmen all knew that the largest “Southern Pearl” ever discovered was found during the Ming Dynasty’s Zheng He voyages. A sailor aboard one of the treasure ships fished out a giant conch and placed it in a pot to boil for food. Just as the fire was stoked, the water in the pot suddenly boiled over, and with a deafening roar, the half-cooked giant conch leaped out of the pot. The cabin instantly filled with white vapor, like thick smoke, making it impossible to see anyone face-to-face. Those tending the cooking fled in panic, and only after a long silence did they dare return to check. They found the giant conch dead and beside it a Southern Pearl the size of a longan fruit, though its brilliance had been lost due to the boiling in water and fire, making it impossible to restore.

Beneath the “Coral Spiral,” freshwater springs erupt, mixing with the saltwater to create a perfectly balanced salinity that nurtures the refined essence of the sea and moon. The Southern Pearls here are nearly all the size of longan fruit. Underwater, they gleam with a light and color rarely seen in this world. If this dive goes smoothly, we could secure at least a hundred or so. Since escaping Vietnam, Ruan Hei’s life had been difficult, and today, this opportunity presented itself—his hopes of getting to France finally looked tangible. He was visibly excited, declaring that no risk was too great; his years learning the art of egg harvesting had not been in vain.

Ruan Hei then shared his own deductions about the seabed conditions. Although the undercurrents and whirlpools in the deep valley next to the underwater forest did not appear overly strong, for some inexplicable reason, the sea creatures dared not approach that area. Using the spotlight from the diving bell, he shone a light into the gloom and vaguely perceived the silhouettes of massive ships. He couldn't confirm if they were the Marie Céleste, however. Near Coral Temple Island, in a stretch of shallow sea, there was also a “Shipwreck Graveyard” located within a trench. Ships sinking nearby, drawn by the currents, would all fall into it. Over time, parts of the trench became covered with silt and barnacles, forming a hardened shell. Only a few entrances allowed divers access. Many salvage teams had tried their luck there; some had indeed recovered considerable treasures, while others had spent years exhausting their effort and capital only to come away empty-handed.

It was plausible that the topography of the Coral Spiral was similar—the most pronounced features being the inner and outer rings of reefs. But here, with the accumulation of seabed sand, perhaps a layer of mud and sand paste existed beneath the floor. When shipwrecks fell, they would sink into it, creating fissures resembling abyssal trenches. The grooves seen on the seabed might just be the tracks left by sunken vessels.

Though Ruan Hei’s account was speculative, we all felt it held significant merit and immediately formulated a diving plan. The operation would be conducted in teams of at least two for mutual support. Naturally, not everyone on board could descend. I divided the crew into Team A, Team B, and Team C. Shirley Yang, Uncle Ming, and I formed Team A. Ruan Hei would lead Team B with his apprentice, Duo Ling. Fatty and Gu Cai comprised the third group, Team C.

Team A and Team B would dive simultaneously. Team A would utilize the only three sets of heavy diving gear to scout the depths of the trench near the valley entrance, investigating if any wrecks were hidden there. Once a target was confirmed, action would commence immediately. The success of retrieving the “Qin Emperor’s Bone-Revealing Mirror” hinged entirely on this first move. Team B and Team C would alternate dives to harvest eggs beneath the coral trees. Considering our limited supplies and the constraints of the “Mountain-Moving, Sea-Filling Technique,” the sooner we finished while conditions allowed, the lower the risk.

I assigned personnel this way primarily because searching for the shipwreck required manpower; even three people felt a bit thin. Moreover, Uncle Ming was familiar with hull structures and underwater phenomena, so his expertise as an advisor and assistant should prove useful. Most importantly, keeping him close ensured I could dive into the deep water without worry; otherwise, who knew what mischief the old man might cook up. Shirley Yang was an elite graduate of the US Naval Academy and an expert in submersible reconnaissance. With the three of us forming Team A, if any unexpected trouble arose while penetrating the trench in the coral forest, a clean escape would not be difficult.

The captain and the trio of Ruan Hei and Duo Ling were professional Eggmen; their work in the coral forest would involve executing their usual tasks, giving them a certain degree of confidence. Splitting Ruan Hei’s group and keeping Fatty, who genuinely loved egg harvesting, with them would also prevent them from getting greedy and abandoning Team A to flee with the boat. Although Ruan Hei couldn't operate the "Heavenly Regulator Fish" or the "Quixing Compass," I preferred to be prepared for any contingency. I knew well that someone starved for wealth could easily have their judgment clouded by money, leading them to do things they otherwise wouldn't. However, I couldn't voice this suspicion to Shirley Yang; I merely made the arrangements with quiet resolve.

Everyone readily agreed, save for Uncle Ming, whose face showed distress. “The trenches deep within the Coral Spiral—no schools of fish dare approach because the deepest parts connect directly to the outer ocean. Some great sea monsters make their nests there. Wouldn't we be sending ourselves to die by going in? Listen to your elder, Hu Zi; you’ll suffer if you don’t heed my words. The most formidable creatures in the deep sea aren't giant octopuses. The massive crabs and crustaceans down there rival whales in size, especially the giant crabs—even creatures as fierce as the Sea Dragons wouldn't dare provoke them. You two go if you must; I… I think it’s more suitable for me to stay and gather eggs.”

I knew he was likely exaggerating the danger. I told Uncle Ming, “If there really are such giant crabs, how much would they sell for per pound? Besides, what kind of man are you, this old sea wolf who can’t be killed and won’t admit defeat? You’re the sort who dares scrape gold off a Buddha’s face and grab money from a pot of boiling oil. Are you afraid of crabs now? Furthermore, we agreed before setting out that we share the wealth and shoulder the difficulties together. If you bail now just as the risk surfaces, I’ll avoid you when it comes time to divide the money and the Green Heads. Don’t complain to me then.”

Hearing the part about dividing the money upon return, Uncle Ming had no choice but to brace himself. He’d go through hellfire if necessary. If they succeeded this time, they could recoup all the losses from previous years. Success or failure, it was fifty-fifty—he had to gamble, especially since this black-eyed fellow couldn't stand to see silver. Despite being a tough man when running ships before, now he bowed his head for a few bushels of rice.

With the strategy settled, everyone threw themselves into preparations. Several marker buoys were set on the surface to pinpoint the location of the largest ancient tree on the seabed. Next, it was time to use the Mountain Movers' “Mountain-Moving, Sea-Filling Technique” to deal with the vicious fish below. I lit the old bronze duck-shaped incense burner at the bow of the ship, preparing to summon the “Melon God.”