212: Chapter 212 The slope slows down, and an unpleasant guest arrives (2)

Lu Changyuan stood straight. He called Leng Feng to the edge of the Pier—Leng Feng had just wiped the salt frost off his armor plates. He handed the observation scope to Leng Feng.

Leng Feng took the observation scope and looked at the sea surface behind Blue Moon Island for about ten seconds. He moved the scope away from his eyes and tapped his fingers twice on the lens barrel.

"A dozen or so people. All injured. Their uniforms are the issued style of the Left Wing—but they are wearing them in a mess. There are breaks in the armor plates—the edges of the breaks are not clean cuts, but tear wounds. The leader is a Scarface—a scar on his face runs diagonally from his left brow bone to his chin. The skin along the edges of the scar is the pale color of old wounds."

"Defeated soldiers?"

"Looks like it." Leng Feng spun the observation scope in his hand. "But why would the Left Wing defeated soldiers run towards Blue Moon Island? We have two of the Left Wing's overrun outposts marked on our sea chart—the closest one is nearly three hundred li away. If defeated soldiers were to retreat, they would retreat towards the direction of Zhenhai Fortress—heading towards Blue Moon Island is heading towards the Dragon Burial Trench."

"Unless they have been adrift at sea for a long time," Lu Changyuan said. "Adrift until they could not tell the direction anymore."

Leng Feng raised the observation scope to his eyes again. He watched for another ten seconds—then lowered it.

"Not a single one is lying down. The dozen or so people sitting on the deck—all of them are sitting ramrod straight. Injured soldiers who have been adrift at sea for a long time would have collapsed bones. Their backs are straighter than the sentries on the Pier."

Lu Changyuan did not ask any more questions. He compared the markings of the Haiyuan Clan's main force surfacing positions on the sea chart table with the heading of the spirit boat in the rear—Blue Moon Island was sandwiched between the two lines. He drew a circle with his fingertip at the location of the quarantine zone on the outskirts of Blue Moon Island.

At the end of the Wei hour. That unmarked spirit boat docked at the old berth at the very end of the Outer Port Pier on Blue Moon Island.

The berth had been temporarily widened half a year ago to accommodate the sampans of the outer fishing teams—the stone surface was uneven, and the mooring stones at the edge of the berth were only half a person's height. The spirit boat's draft was too shallow—the bottom of the boat scraped against the stone surface of the berth, scraping off a layer of copper-green anti-corrosion coating from the hull.

The dozen or so people sitting on the deck began to disembark. Their movements were not fast—the speed at which injured soldiers disembark is consistent with the level of pain from their wounds. But every step from the gangplank to the Pier was planted firmly. The sound of their footsteps—the balls of their feet landed first. The sound of heels hitting the ground never appeared.

The leading Scarface was the first to step onto the stone slabs of the Pier. The military trousers below his left knee had been torn away halfway—the exposed calf was wrapped in an old, dark gray bandage. There was blood seeping through the bandage—the amount of blood was not large, and the rate of seepage matched the depth of the wound. But when he walked, the bending angle of his left knee was exactly the same as his right leg—there was no dragging sensation from muscle atrophy.

Following behind him was a Shorty—his right shoulder was splinted with two wooden sticks and cloth strips, and judging by the posture, it was a shoulder joint that had been reset after dislocation. When the Shorty walked down the gangplank, he supported himself against the gunwale with his left hand—then used his right hand to pick up a worn-out Storage Pouch from the deck. The movement of lifting the bag with his right hand was nimble—the shoulder splint had not affected his grip.

Commander Cai stood outside the berth with three sentries from the Sin Battalion. He had a bone meal pipe in his mouth—the tobacco was not lit, and he was biting the mouthpiece at the corner of his mouth. He saw the step Scarface took onto the Pier—the toes landed first. He took the pipe away from his mouth.

Scarface walked up to Commander Cai. His standing posture was the same as all defeated soldiers—legs spread shoulder-width apart, center of gravity on the back foot. Exhausted people would lean their center of gravity forward to find a support point—he did the opposite, with his center of gravity on his back foot. A stance that allowed him to step back at any moment.

"Third Patrol Team of the Shark Tooth Reef outpost, Left Wing." Scarface's voice was hoarse—his throat was so dry that every syllable grated against the next as he spoke. "The outpost was overrun by the main force of the Haiyuan Clan three days ago. The twelve of us drifted at sea for two days—we got separated from the main force. The remaining spiritual energy in the spirit boat's formation paths was not enough to sail towards the Fortress—we had no choice but to head to the nearest outpost."

Shark Tooth Reef outpost. Lu Changyuan stood under the eaves of the Pier logistics shed—the shadow cast by the eaves obscured the upper half of his face. The Shark Tooth Reef outpost was on the outermost side of the Left Wing of Zhenhai Fortress—nearly three hundred and forty li away from Blue Moon Island. Overrun three days ago—drifted to Blue Moon Island on the third day. The speed matched up. But on the Zhenhai Fortress sea chart, the Shark Tooth Reef outpost was a gray-marked outpost—gray-marked outposts were not equipped with ark-ships, but with two types of sampans. This kind of narrow-bodied spirit boat, with a hull that hugged the water surface and a sandwich layer large enough to stuff a dozen weapons—gray-marked outposts were equipped with sampans, they could not be equipped with this kind of boat.

"Commander Cai." Lu Changyuan walked out from under the eaves. He brushed off the wood shavings stuck to his cuffs—the shavings were from the lightning-struck wood in the Formation Affairs Room that morning. "Settle them in the outer quarantine zone. Give each person a bowl of spirit rice porridge first—do not register them yet. Wait until they recover before talking."

Commander Cai put the bone meal pipe back into the corner of his mouth. He glanced at Scarface—his gaze swept over Scarface's ankles. There were calluses on the outer side of the ankles—the position of the calluses did not match the wear from wearing military boots. They were places worn down by repeatedly rubbing against reefs while barefoot. He had spent twenty years in the Sin Battalion—he had seen no more than three people with such calluses on their ankles. All three had been exiled to the Sin Battalion by the Military Law Department of Zhenhai Fortress—before being exiled, they had all hauled cargo on the Fortress Pier for at least ten years.

He did not speak. He spun the pipe in the corner of his mouth—then tilted his head. The three Sin Battalion sentries led the way—directing them straight to the row of wooden sheds on the outermost edge of the outer quarantine zone—avoiding the Inner Harbor shed area.

The wooden sheds had been temporarily erected half a year ago to quarantine the population that had been brought back from Black Reef Island. The roofs were thatched with palm leaves—after half a year, nearly half of the leaves had dried out, revealing the old fishing nets underneath used as support ropes. Inside the sheds, there were only bedding rolls and an empty water vat. The ground was packed mud and sand—no stone slabs. Traces of people having lived there were still present—in the corner were the remnants of half-burnt insect-repellent incense.

The twelve people were divided into three sheds. Scarface and Shorty went into the one furthest out. The other ten people were divided into the two sheds closer in—five in each.

Leng Feng arranged for four sentries to keep watch around the perimeter of the quarantine zone—two hidden sentries and two mobile sentries. The positions for the hidden sentries were chosen behind the coral aggregate piles on the outskirts of the quarantine zone and in the crevices of the reefs—these two positions allowed them to see the doors, windows, and the narrow alley behind the three sheds.

The Xu hour. The sky was completely dark. The cold-light stone lamps around the perimeter of Blue Moon Island lit up one by one—the light swaying slightly in the sea breeze. The sea surface outside the Ring Reef shimmered with a dark green hue under the illumination of the lamps—the cold light emitted by the Starlight Coral on the seabed at night diffused upwards through the seawater.

Lu Changyuan stood before the sea chart table in the Formation Affairs Room. Leng Feng entered from the doorway—his armor plates were not wiped clean. He had just returned from changing shifts at the outer quarantine zone—he had been staring at the wooden sheds from the sentry post for nearly two hours.

"Twelve people. From the time they were settled into the sheds until now—nearly two hours." Leng Feng stood on the other side of the sea chart table. He held a piece of rubbing paper in his hand—the surface was drawn with a floor plan of the three wooden sheds. He had marked twelve positions on the floor plan—each position corresponding to the range of activity of one person from the time they entered the sheds until now.

"Not a single one lay down."

Leng Feng spread the floor plan out on the sea chart table. The sleeping mats in the three sheds on the diagram were drawn as square grids—each grid with a marker. The positions of the twelve markers had hardly changed from the time they entered the sheds until now—all of them were sitting on the edge of their bedding. Buttocks pressed against the edge of the bedding, knees slightly bent, center of gravity on the balls of their feet. That kind of sitting posture—as long as they stood up, they could reach the shed door in one step. Not a single one had leaned back onto the bedding.

"They are not recovering from injuries." Leng Feng used his finger to draw a line at the window position of the shed furthest out. "Scarface and Shorty change positions every half-stick of incense—Scarface faces the window, Shorty faces the door. When they change positions, the two of them do not say a word—they only exchange a glance. In the other two sheds—someone is whispering."

"What did they say?"

"Can't hear clearly." Leng Feng circled the two inner sheds on the floor plan with a charcoal pencil. "But when they were talking—someone passed something out. It was passed from the innermost shed to the middle shed, then to the outermost shed. It was paper—could not see clearly what was written on the paper. But every time it was passed, the person who received the paper would look out. The direction they looked—"

Leng Feng's finger drew an arc on the outer circle of the floor plan. The arc bypassed the wooden sheds of the quarantine zone—from the wooden sheds all the way to the direction of the Pier—then turned from the direction of the Pier to the direction of the Inner Harbor warehouses.

"The direction they were looking was the sentry posts, the warehouse entrances, and the locations of the outer perimeter of the formation bases."

Lu Changyuan looked at the arc Leng Feng had drawn on the floor plan. The arc covered the three seaside warehouses at the Outer Port Pier of Blue Moon Island, the connection ports of two early warning formation eyes, and one of the outer formation path burial points of the Geng Metal Sword Intent Killing Array.

He reached into his sleeve—and took out a rubbed Jade Slip from the inner pocket. The one Leng Feng had brought back from the depths of the Dragon Burial Trench—the Jade Slip was engraved with the three-circle sub-pattern structure of the Main Hub seal, the thickness and flow rate of the three spiritual energy transmission lines, and the frequency of the High Priest's scepter. Su Qingli had extracted the weak points of the seal from this Jade Slip—the time for The Lid to be worn through, the time for the Lock Core to be filled, and the size of the gaps in the Connection Node. All tactical decisions for Blue Moon Island over the past four days—from the positions of the interference formation stakes to the window for raiding the spiritual energy transmission lines—relied entirely on the data on this Jade Slip.

"They want this."

He put the Jade Slip back into his inner sleeve pocket. Then he glanced in the direction of the outer quarantine zone on the sea chart table.

"They came here—what they want to steal is this." Lu Changyuan pressed the opening of his inner sleeve pocket. The Jade Slip created a very shallow protrusion inside the pocket.