The Hailiu was a relic of a ship, rumored to have once been used by sea bandits. Though its hull had undergone several major repairs and modifications, the primary structure remained the original Hailiu wood. Two years prior, it had been acquired and refitted by Englishmen, during which time on Coral Temple Island, the egg-man Ruan Hei and several local fishermen were hired specifically to maintain the Hailiu and participate in the refitting work.

The British salvage team had invested significant effort into refitting the Hailiu, intending to venture into the Coral Spiral Sea to dredge for Qingtou. Who would have expected that before they could even set sail, they all perished in the Hailiu's hold. The islanders of Coral Temple Island were deeply tight-lipped about the incident; most, including the black market dealer Ban Wu, knew none of the specifics. Only Ruan Hei seemed to know something, but now he was dead, and we could glean no further information from him. Once we encountered whatever was hiding in the hold that caused their deaths, we would have no idea how to deal with it.

Yet, what business was dredging for Qingtou in the sea if not fraught with peril? We feared the worst, and the worst arrived: a shark’s head smashed open the hidden cavity between the hull planks, and a stream of lifeless black water flowed out from the eye sockets of the skulls of the dead men inside the compartment. I hastily pulled the fat man, who was squatting on the floor, to his feet and retreated several steps.

The water level had receded, leaving the water in the hold barely above our ankles. But with every step, we still sloshed through it with a "whoosh-whoosh" sound, and the water level in the Guixu was unstable, rising and falling without pattern. Seeing the situation turning foul, I knew that staying in the hold would likely lead to an unexplained death, just like the British team. The British salvage crew included many experts in exploration and marine salvage; their vast experience and superior equipment had still resulted in their demise here. It must have been a sudden event, catching them completely off guard.

The fat man, myself, and the others retreated several steps, our backs hitting a stack of cargo crates, leaving us with nowhere else to go. Gu Cai, being somewhat superstitious, panicked and tried to bolt. I quickly grabbed him: "Don't move rashly." Where could we run in this pitch darkness? Now that we’d stumbled upon this, if there truly was some ferocious spirit hidden in the hold, settling it here was crucial. If we fled, even escaping the Trident, we’d only be continuously hounded, running blindly like stray dogs or fish that escaped the net, certain to lose our lives for nothing.

In truth, given our current predicament, I couldn't decide whether to flee or stay. I held fast to the basic principle of not letting go until the rabbit was caught: until we confirmed a safe escape from the hold, we couldn't risk everyone's lives lightly. The flashlight beams were too dim to be of much use in the sunless hold; we couldn't rely on them anymore. I fumbled in my diving pack and pulled out the only remaining glow stick.

Ever since becoming a Tomb Raider, I’ve been overly reliant on lighting equipment out of professional habit, always worried about insufficient supplies. The glow stick was filled with white phosphorus, which provided illumination underwater far superior to fluorescent light, though it was unsuitable for surface environments. After the flashlights failed, eager for some light, I pulled out the phosphorus stick, yanked the pull-ring, and tossed it into the few centimeters of water in the hold.

The white phosphorus instantly erupted in a blinding, dazzling light in the water. Despite the obstruction of the murky water below the deck, I felt a sharp sting in my eyes. In the searing white glare that made my head throb, I saw the black water flowing from the Haishihua beginning to coalesce into an almost human-shaped phantom. The floating black water perfectly blocked the path leading to the upper deck. A few strange fish that had been head-butting the hull planks were caught by the black water pooling in the hold and died silently on the spot.

In an instant, the few strange fish that had been flailing like frantic devotees were reduced to scattered corpses. These fish hadn't died merely from leaving the water, but the moment the black water touched them, they died abruptly. The hold fell silent. The ghost-like mass of black water, drifting like a piece of black cloth on the surface, floated over the corpse of the white shark lying on the floor and silently drifted toward us.

Seeing the black water pass over the exposed body of the shark, I muttered, "Not good." If it could only exist in water, we might have a chance. But since it could leave the water and move along the hull planks to kill the fish, where could we hide? The four of us shouted and scattered quickly to dodge. In the white phosphorus light, a patch of pitch-black sewage suddenly stood up from the bulkhead and floated toward the ceiling. Every part of the ship constructed from Hailiu wood began to ooze black water, like tainted blood.

Fatty leaped onto a wooden crate where supplies were stored and yelled at me, "Commander Hu, quickly use the bronze mirror to shine on it!" I dodged and scrambled onto another wooden crate. Hearing Fatty’s shout, I reached for the diving bag containing the King of Qin Bone-Reflecting Mirror. The cold, hard bronze mirror was there, but this black water flowing from the Haishihua was unusual. The bronze mirror could only suppress corpses; how could it handle this ghostly, dead water?

Seeing the black water creeping up the ceiling, an opening appeared in front of the hatch. I pointed toward the hatch door to Shirley Yang and told her to seize the opportunity to get Gu Cai out. Fatty and I would try to stall for a moment. Shirley Yang wasn’t one to quibble; she should understand that the hold was cramped, and staying would only restrict our movements and invite accidents. She immediately grabbed Gu Cai’s arm and pulled him toward the hatch.

The black water above seemed sentient. Sensing Shirley Yang and Gu Cai attempting to escape, it flowed across the planks like a black flag whipped by a gale, and dropped straight down. Shirley Yang saw the danger, spun around with Gu Cai, splashing water as they darted toward the inner side of the hold. As a result, the four of us, who had just dispersed, were again forced to the side of the cargo area.

With cargo crates piled around us and the corpse of a giant shark beneath our feet, jumping through the hole in the floor into the water would be tantamount to feeding ourselves to the shark—just a different way to die. The shadow seemed formless and ethereal, moving like a phantom in the compartment. In the phosphorus light, everything went black as the phantom floated right up to us. I knew that whoever touched this shadow would immediately suffer cardiac arrest and die on the spot, but there was no retreat, and nothing to defend ourselves with.

With death looming, I couldn't help but feel a touch of fear, a chill running down my spine. But then I realized something was wrong—it wasn't the chilling sensation of life fading, but a deep coldness stemming from behind me. My back was pressed against a large, cold stone wall, and the chill came from there. In my memory, there was nothing this eerie and cold inside the Hailiu hull. Ignoring the need to turn around, I simply touched it with my hand and immediately understood: before entering the Coral Spiral, we had salvaged a floating stone sarcophagus from the sea. Inside, the nested stone coffin was perfectly preserved, made of rare Shijing (Stone Mirror).

Shijing is ancient seabed wood turned to stone, its surface as smooth as a mirror, having absorbed the chilling yin energy of the ocean, shaped by millennia of tidal forces into dense, undulating patterns. The Huainan Wanbi school, a branch of Qingwu geomancy, explicitly mentioned that stone can suppress ghosts. Old courtyards and houses always have screen walls at the entrance, partly to prevent wealth from leaking out, and partly to block ghosts from entering. The earliest screen walls were made of bluestone bricks; only later were kiln bricks gradually used. Those who understood the art of securing a dwelling would still bury stone beneath the foundation—this was based on the principle of using stone to suppress ghosts and ward off misfortune.

Desperate people rebel; cornered dogs jump walls. Solutions and paths to survival are forced out under dire necessity. This thought flashed through my mind. They say the life of a Tomb Raider is the hardest among grave robbers. If there was truly a way out, the stone sarcophagus behind us was our only chance. The stone coffin was kept in the hold to preserve perishable goods. With the massive consumption of supplies in the Coral Spiral, only the empty coffin remained; the stone lid lay to one side. Seeing the black phantom approaching on the floating water, I quickly signaled to Fatty, and we formed a human ladder with our hands, allowing Shirley Yang and Gu Cai to climb onto the stacked cargo crates along the side.

The shadow-like black water drifted incredibly fast, reaching our feet in an instant, bringing with it an icy chill. I pulled Fatty, and we both stepped into the stone coffin. The black water clung to the coffin wall, rose up, and flowed into the coffin. Fatty and I cursed, "Damn sons of bitches, they're fast..." We quickly withdrew, stepping over the black water, and leaped out of the Shijing coffin. The phosphorus light in the hold couldn't penetrate the coffin, which was already filled with dense yin energy and surging black tides.

I knew that if this black water was truly a malevolent spirit attached to the Hailiu, sealing the lid would trap it forever. I dared not hesitate. Before the black water could surge out again, I grabbed the lid and slammed it shut, then flipped over and sat on top to press it down. The stone coffin closed, wrapping us like impenetrable armor. We could only hear the sound of water roaring inside, like churning ocean waves and furious tides, before it finally calmed down after a long time.

We then saw that the black water oozing from the Hailiu walls had stopped. Those hard, ancient Hailiu timbers seemed to have lost their vitality, instantly turning into wood nearing decay. This Hailiu ship, which had achieved miraculous feats, was completely finished. But having survived the brink of death, everyone felt incredibly lucky. If we hadn't salvaged this ancient coffin from the sea earlier, or hadn't placed it in the hold, we would likely have met an unknown end here, just like the British salvage team. However, what exactly was hidden between the planks—a ghost or an object—remained unknown.

Seeing Shirley Yang descend from the crates, I told her to take Gu Cai up first. Then, Fatty and I gathered several thick ropes used for lashing cargo. These ropes, woven from yellow rattan, silk fiber, and human hair, wouldn't break even after years submerged in water. We used them to lash the stone coffin crisscross dozens of times, tying seven or eight double knots. By now, the entire Hailiu hull was nearly falling apart, emitting creaking sounds. It looked like it would soon break free from the stranded stone pillars and plunge into the water, the stone coffin sinking into the Guixu along with it.

I patted the King of Qin Bone-Reflecting Mirror in my bag, beckoned Fatty, and we scrambled up to the deck in the tottering cabin. The water surface remained placid, as calm as ever. Shirley Yang had rendezvoused with Uncle Ming and already lowered two small skiffs. Uncle Ming, Gu Cai, and Duo Ling shared one, and Ruan Hei’s body, wrapped in white cloth, was also aboard. Fatty and I jumped into the other lifeboat with Shirley Yang.

The moment we stepped onto the rubber dinghy, the Trident behind us began to fracture internally and externally. Everything on the ship crashed and fell into the water with a clatter. In a flash, only a mess of wreckage remained on the surface. Everyone was silent, watching the Hailiu break apart and sink. Thinking of the ship that had accompanied us through life and death at sea, braving terrifying storms, vanishing forever into the Sea of Guixu, felt like an indescribable mix of flavors hitting the palate.

Uncle Ming had learned the brief story from Shirley Yang about how we recovered the King of Qin Bone-Reflecting Mirror from the sunken ship, but seeing the wreckage gradually sink, his face looked grim: "I was hoping to find something to repair the ship... but now even the Hailiu is gone. We only have two small boats left, and we are adrift in the vast ocean. There's no land for hundreds of miles around; how can we return to Coral Temple Island?"

Shirley Yang said, "Being lost in this chaotic sea hidden beneath the ocean's eye is the biggest trouble right now. We only have a chance of seeking rescue at sea if we can figure out how to return to the true surface of the Coral Spiral. Old Hu, what do you think we should do now?"

I looked around. The sea air was hazy, and the ominous fire in the rock layers flickered overhead, resembling an inverted starry sky. Floating on the surface in the small boat felt like sailing through the heavens. Straining my eyes, I couldn't see the edge of this Guixu water. North, south, east, and west all seemed the same; I truly had no idea which direction led out.

When Shirley Yang asked me, I could only force a wry smile: "This place is really too big. If only we had a paddleboat, trying to row the dinghy out with brute force would be a pipe dream." What I said was true. The immediate issues were how to escape the sea using the lifeboats, how to return from this boundless, chaotic Guixu Sea to the real surface, and how to sustain the paddling over a long period. Moreover, how could these small boats withstand the intermittent surges of the sea? And who knew if there were sea monsters lurking in the water?

Hearing me, Uncle Ming grew more worried: "What Guixu or Qu Xu? Buddhist scriptures say the Weak Water is three thousand li deep, impassable without dying. We must have fallen into the Weak Water. Weak Water is dead water; there's no exit or gateway. No one expects to return alive. Poor my darling daughter A Xiang, taken away to America by you lot—who will look after her now?"

I told Uncle Ming, "Weak Water is just a metaphor; there's no real Weak Water in the world. Stop looking so gloomy, everyone. Tomb Raiders, besides grave robbing, are best at 'observing.' Qingwu geomancy specializes in analyzing and dissecting geography and earth veins. The Sea Eye is where the energy of the Southern Dragon condenses. Feng Shui says dead water cannot hold a dragon; this place has unparalleled vigor from the dragon fire and sea energy. If it were dead water, it wouldn't have such a massive dragon aura. So, in my view, the bottom of the Guixu must have living water. However, this is an elusive hidden current. Beneath the water, besides large quantities of sunken shipwrecks and ancient architectural ruins, there are deep ravines and canyons with surging geothermal hot springs. The area beneath the Coral Spiral Sea should have abundant geothermal freshwater resources; otherwise, if the seawater salinity were too high, those giant oysters and mussels that store eggs couldn't survive. If we can figure out the direction of the water veins, we might be able to dive through the labyrinthine coral reefs back to the surface. But we can't just blindly rush around. For now, let’s go bury Ruan Hei in the ancient city exposed above the water, rest briefly, and then make further plans. Assessing the situation and finding a way in or out has always been the specialty of a Tomb Raider. This half-volume of my Sixteen-Character Mingyang Feng Shui Secret Art isn't just street magic—it actually works when needed."

I was using the Tomb Raider secrets to bluff, but truthfully, I wasn't entirely confident either. However, Uncle Ming, though he made his fortune running ships in the South Seas, his ancestors were corpse-carriers and tomb robbers in the South. He often dealt in valuable dried corpses—Western Princes, desert Generals, princesses from Loulan, fragrant corpses from the Heavenly Mountains, and Qin corpses, Han Dynasty figurines, and mummies... there wasn't anything he hadn't peddled. Of course, the 'titles' for the dried corpses were mostly self-invented. He considered himself half a tomb-robbing craftsman. In the eyes of ordinary robbers, Tomb Raiders were the elite of the profession, possessing heaven-defying skills. So, upon hearing this, Uncle Ming felt significantly reassured. With the objective set, everyone grabbed their oars, and the two small boats began to move slowly across the water surface toward the distance.

Fatty rowed while admiring the gold watch he’d salvaged from the sunken ship. Illuminated by the dragon-fire mineral vein, which resembled moonlight from the sky, the gold watch gleamed even brighter. Fatty stared at it for a long time, unable to recognize the brand, so he held it up for Shirley Yang to appraise, asking if it was an Omega.

When I saw the gold watch, I immediately remembered seeing a bearded man clinging to Gu Cai's back in a shattered mirror aboard the Mary Celeste—it was the captain’s ghost, trying to grab a gold watch. The underwater situation had been chaotic then, and no one else had noticed except me. Since Gu Cai showed no subsequent abnormalities, I had set the matter aside. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but steal a glance at Gu Cai.

Gu Cai had sustained minor injuries; his senior sister Duo Ling had given him emergency treatment. Though exhausted, he was still helping to row, relying on his raw strength and tenacity.

As I watched him, Gu Cai kept looking back at the water behind us. Seeing his unusual behavior, I immediately asked him what he was looking at. Gu Cai stared wide-eyed at my question and answered, "A ghost! There's a ghost!"