These two days, every time Yang Zicang passed through the cabin, the young man—who had previously earned nearly twenty thousand units of time by selling sketches but now had no one seeking his services—would always block his path.

He told Yang Zicang that he wanted to help out from behind the scenes, offering to draw line drafts for free.

The young man explained that this was hardly a one-shot endeavor; if one intended to create a painting as if it were the potential emergence of brilliance, it required countless trials. Da Vinci, as the world knew, painted theMona Lisafor over a decade, and some say he never truly finished it until his death.

“I don’t have that kind of interest. I’m really just looking for someone.“

Yang Zicang stared at the youth, who had come to him over and over again, a hint of impatience in his tone.

And I’m just looking for a murderer, he thought. So, to hell with things like a glorious flash of contemporary art or some nonsense.

He pushed past the young man and walked out of the cabin. Beyond, the deep blue of the clear sky was already in view.

“Sigh… another failure, huh?“

The sketch-wielding youth gazed at a decorative band in his hand, upon which was strung a single, small, shimmering firefly-like stone.

He had fully expected that upon completing the group sketching event, a “radiant light ” would be born. But nothing of the sort happened.

As for the distributor at the A-2 Lighthouse, after dropping him a cryptic hint with that “Pre-Gaze ” right from the start, there hadn’t been a peep from him for the past two days.

He watched the enthusiastic crowd periodically making their way into the corridor.

Originally his own guests, they had already started commissioning oil paintings from Zeng Qingyan. Partly, people wanted to preserve some memories of the people they’d known from Earth, and partly, they wanted to join forces and see if they could “squeeze out ” more specks of possible radiance—or even, as he himself had claimed, the spark of a truly shining light.

Sigh. Why was he back then only thinking about scrambling to earn more hours phase? he thought bitterly.

“Dockside, ahoy! “

The First Mate’s rough, throaty voice boomed from outside the cabin. “We’ve made it to Cheqing Island, friends. This area’s right at the weakest influence of the Mist Sea! “

Yang Zicang strolled out of the cabin onto the deck, looking out at the island beyond. The deck was already packed with more than a hundred people, dressed in all kinds of clothing, looking like a crowd of stowaways from different nations and walks of life.

A sailor shouted from up ahead: “There are places to rest on the island. You can cash in some rest and relaxation with whatever trade you like best. “

“He means using Chronosequence, right? “

Over these past few days, from what the crew had said, everyone had come to clearly understand that trying to carry on getting by with the Chronosequence like before was starting to look somewhat unrealistic.

Here, everyone returned to some of the initial problems… perhaps even harder. That is, while “earning your life, ” you also had to “earn money, ” the “Silver Coins ” that the crew affectionately called “Silver Horses. “

“That’s right, you can trade with your favorite Tempus Coins. “

“Rare opportunity, you long-lived elves and fairies! ” shouted another young man in a blue-collar white shirt under the sun, banging on an iron plate. “But the people on the island may not understand your language. If you want to quickly learn our land’s language, come make a life investment with this Ferryman next to me, and your ability to learn the Wood-Tongue language will skyrocket. “

“Can we learn it the moment we invest? “

“In your dreams. “

But some still went to invest. Yang Zicang also walked over, investing just one more year of their lifespan. After the transaction, Yang Zicang didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary.

“Here are your study materials. “

The Ferryman handed him a booklet that readFinish These 1000 Sentence Patterns, and Your Speaking Skills will Soar Ten Steps.

Yang Zicang returned to the cabin and tapped on Zeng Qingyan’s door.

“Mr. Zeng, the island has some leisurely spots. Care to come explore together? “

“No need, President, ” Zeng Qingyan replied. “I’m at a critical point in my creation. I’m feeling fantastic right now. Interrupting it would mean I’d have to find that state of mind all over again. Go have fun with your family and brothers. By the time you come back, I should be ready to hand this painting over to you. “

“Alright. I’ll head up to the island and see if I can find any oil paints for you. “

“Thank you, but it doesn’t matter whether you have it or not. This shell powder is quite fine. “

The old oil tanker slowly docked at the wooden pier.

Under the afternoon sun, the seawater and sandy beach shimmered with warm tranquility. The military flag flying on the island fluttered and rustled fiercely in the wind. The island wasn’t particularly large, but it had everything one could need—several rows of wooden houses and a large banquet hall.

Behind those rows of houses, Yang Zicang even spotted a parked aircraft.

It was covered in rivets, and the five small propellers in front of its wing spun slowly. This was a small plane capable of carrying seven or eight people.

“Look over there! That’s the Heivenzike flying iron boat! “

“It’s called an airplane, dummy. “

The crew members, who had never seen an airplane before, gestured and pointed at it from a distance. Some people who had come ashore wanted to approach, but they were quickly stopped by a group of island residents dressed in ordinary civilian clothes who clearly looked like they had undergone long-term training.

The deserted stall beside the island inn finally welcomed a customer.

A native with textured lines on his chin gave introductions in a version of the Mistfolk language that was noticeably poorer in quality. People with that kind of markings were usually Crossing People.

Yang Zicang asked around, but found no paint here. Inside the small shop window, propped half open, the items they sold the most were dictionaries and lexicons fit for elementary school students, along with various letters and black-and-white patterned postcards. That kind of postcard was prohibitively expensive—it took a full ten years of one’s lifespan to trade for a single one. Imprinted on it was the blurred outline of this very island.

As for why it was so expensive, the answer was that this was a tourist attraction, and of course a “high-tech naturally developed panoramic picture ” brought back personally from the island would be pricey.

He Yishu picked up a postcard. “There are cameras, you know. This world seems much more normal than the places we’ve been before. Oh, and there are cigarettes—want one? “

“No. ” Yang Zicang glanced back at the oil tanker several miles behind them. “It’s good news that none of these have turned into nightmare fiends. “

A few people approached to pick out some ethnic costumes, and Yang Zicang moved aside to make room for them.

“That plane’s the same, but all of this is just too old. Oh, right—where’s Ms. Xue Qi? I’ve noticed she’s been avoiding you lately. “

He Yishu picked up a brightly colored silk scarf full of exotic flair and flashed a mysterious smile at Yang Zicang, who was busy shopping.

“Want to give a scarf to some girl? “

“You’re not misunderstanding something, are you? ” Yang Zicang looked up. “You give it, then. I’ll pass. “

“Alright. ” He Yishu stuffed three scarves into the inner pocket of his coat, and a faint silver halo lit up his chest as he invested three years’ worth of timeline credit for the shopkeeper who had come over.

Two of the family brothers walked over. “Chairman, we’ve been shaken to death on the ship. We want to stay at the inn here for the night. “

“Besides, it looks like they’re setting up a party. I think there might be a show tonight. “

The guy chuckled and with his chin gestured toward a hall in the distance, picking out a couple of girls in bright, long dresses who happened to be coming out.

“We asked, and we can join—it’s pretty cheap too, ” another family brother said with a chuckle.

Xue Qi had changed into a new outfit and arrived from the pier, bringing a portion of cut fruit for Yang Zicang and He Yishu. The group found a spot to start memorizing vocabulary from this world.

The tracing of the Level 1 Memory Magic Rune grew increasingly smooth and effortless. From the initial dizziness to now just feeling slightly tired, Yang Zicang wondered if his mental strength had grown once again.

“This really works well. At this rate, I’ve memorized nearly a hundred phrases already. “

And yet, his entire being was utterly exhausted.

He tossedFinish These 1000 Phrases and Level Up Your Speaking Skills Ten Timesonto the ground, pillowed his head on the stack of notes, and lay down beneath the palm trees, letting the sound of the waves lull him to sleep.

When Xue Qi looked back after memorizing just over twenty phrases, the guy was already fast asleep, a little bubble blowing out from his nose.

……

The clamor of the evening banquet spilled from the wooden hall, drifting through the island’s twilight haze.

He Yishu stood at the turn of the corridor outside the banquet hall, a freshly lit local cigarette wedged between his fingers, its spark flickering uncertainly in the darkening air.

His gaze, however, was not on the cigarette. Instead, it crossed the stretch of palm trees on the side and locked onto a figure beside the small aircraft behind the iron fence.

“Handsome Yishu, want some grilled shrimp? “

He Yishu turned and smiled at Yao Xiaoqin, who stood at the hall entrance, and shook his head, signaling she needn’t bother about him.

After the woman entered, he shifted his body behind a pillar, quietly watching the cigarette standing upright between his fingers.

Yang Zicang, Xue Qi, and Hua Mi had already reached the latter half of their meal, setting aside some food into a box to bring back for the painter Zeng. Only then did He Yishu, with a smile, walk back into the outer area of the banquet hall.

He glanced at the few men inside who seemed to be wearing uniforms—the protagonist of the night, an unnamed middle-aged man—and his companions: a pilot, a mechanic, and an administrator who had just arrived at the table. This so-called banquet hadn’t truly begun yet.

“What took you so long just for a smoke? “

“Heh. ” He Yishu chuckled. “Lit three. Haven’t smoked in ages, made up for it all at once, ” he said to Yang Zicang, who had asked casually.

Yao Xiaoqin let out a “Wow! ” “Brother Yishu is such a man, ” she teased.

He Yishu smiled at her, pulling a silk scarf from his chest. “Little sister Xiaoqin sure knows how to flatter. This is for you, beautiful lady. “

“Ah! ” Yao Xiaoqin shot up with joy, fists clenched.