Just before the first rays of the morning sun were about to spill over the river's surface, the Beiming stopped at the Zhabei Wharf's bank.
The cultivators, who had finished a night of gathering, descended from the gangway. The handsome and elegant captain, as always, stood beside the deck at the gangway, watching the cultivators leave the Beiming and scatter from the wharf.
After the last guest of the gathering disembarked, the captain waved his hand, ordering the gangway to be retracted. Then the Beiming turned its bow and sailed towards the direction of the ocean.
A mist rose up from the sea without warning, enveloping the hull of the Beiming, and so the ship quickly disappeared from the sea's surface.
... It was not because of the horizon, as this world seemed to have no horizon ...
Shu Guan, with his hands clasped behind him, stood at the edge of the wharf and watched the disappearing Beiming, thinking so.
He felt that it must have been the work of lady number three.
