Blue skies, white clouds, the ocean.
The sky was so blue, yet always so monotonous; the clouds were so white, yet filled with such boredom.
The ocean, this damned ocean.
Gao Yuan leaned against the pilot house's wall, staring blankly at the unchanging sea.
If possible, he would have rather lain in bed, but the sun over the Mediterranean Sea was fierce, making the cabin stiflingly hot, unbearably hot, too hot to stay in.
So Gao Yuan preferred to lean against the wall of the pilot house, hiding in the shadows, rather than return to the sauna-like cabin, even if the bed was comfortable.
Air conditioning?
This was a yacht, of course it had air conditioning, but air conditioning needed power, and for safety reasons, generating electricity was not allowed.
So there was no air conditioning.
His eyes were lifeless, lips so dry they were cracked, his complexion waxy yellow, as if he'd just been dug up from the ground.
