Chapter 2: Shrimp Against the Current

The waves off North Reef hit harder than they had yesterday. The wet, cold sea wind shoved itself up Lin Xi’s sleeves, raising a chill of goosebumps across her skin. The air tasted of salt and rust, whispering some old, buried secret right in her ear.

She scrambled over the slick rocks, her fingertips white from the grip, tiny beads of blood seeping from her knuckles. In her mind, that phantom nautical chart was pulsing, regular and frantic like a racing heartbeat. Red light points clustered in the depths of the shallows, overlapping with a shadowy black patch—that was a high-density shrimp shoal, and also where the sunken iron anchor lay.

With every crashing wave, the seawater climbed up her pant legs. The bone-deep chill forced her to clench her teeth, swallowing back the breath that threatened to escape with a shiver.

Zhou Ye emerged from the shadows of a rock crevice. His combat boots crunched loudly on the gravel, a stark, startling sound in the dead quiet of the late night. He didn’t ask why she was risking her life out here; he just fell into step behind her, his eyes scanning the surroundings with predatory alertness. His gaze was sharp, cutting through the dark until he confirmed no one was tailing them. Only then did he speak, his breath pluming white in the dim air between the rock walls.

Zhou Ye kept his voice low: “You sure there’s a ship here?”

Lin Xi stopped, her eyes piercing the mist: “Yes. And it’s more dangerous than the shrimp. My father was right here, back then.”

The seawater lapped over the back of her foot, the stinging cold shooting straight up to her brain. Lin Xi groped for the edge of the black shadow zone, her fingers brushing against a cold metal outline. In that instant, memories from a previous life flooded in like a tide. She heard her father’s desperate cry as he was swallowed by the waves, mixed with the snapping sound of a frayed cable.

She yanked her hand back, gasping for air. Cold sweat soaked through her spine, making her look wretched in the faint morning light. She needed to calm down. She needed to turn this fear into rational data, or she wouldn’t survive.

In the distance, the sputter of a motor broke the silence. A small boat cut through the morning mist and pulled up to the shore. The fog scattered quickly around the propeller, revealing a wrinkled, weathered face. Chen Haisheng jumped onto the rocks without even putting on his reading glasses, his cloudy eyes fixed on Lin Xi’s soaked clothes. There was a frantic, *why-won’t-you-be-sensible* anxiety in his gaze.

Chen Haisheng frowned, his voice raspy like sandpaper: “You’re being a fool! Diving in during low tide—are you trying to die here?”

Lin Xi met his eyes directly. Her legs were shaking from the cold, but she spoke quickly, every word sharp and clear: “Uncle Chen, if we don’t take the risk now, the whole village starves tomorrow. I need you to catch against the current. Ten times the usual catch. That proves my innocence.”

Zhou Ye cut in, his tone hard and cold: “The currents are turbulent. The chance of a small boat capsizing is high. This is suicide.”

Lin Xi turned to him, opening her palm. In it lay a stack of copper coins stamped with Fishery Work Credits. The metal glinted cold in the weak skylight: “That’s three days of Fishery Work Credits. Enough food for the whole village for half a month. If I fail, I accept the penalty. If I succeed, you witness it.”

Chen Haisheng stared at the stack of coins, then at the nautical chart Lin Xi had handed him, noting the precise markings. The lines looked as if they’d been carved with a surgical knife. He was silent for a long time, the sea wind whipping the stray hairs on his forehead. Finally, he let out a long, dirty breath, which lingered in the air with a faint tobacco smell before disappearing. He grabbed the rope.

Chen Haisheng’s voice was low and heavy: “Thirty percent throttle. Everyone hold on to the gunwales. If anything goes wrong, I take the blame!”

The little boat fought against the current. The surge slammed into the hull, creating a grating sound that set the teeth on edge. It sounded like nails scraping down a chalkboard, keeping every nerve on board on edge. On the shore, the crowd had gathered, watching with heads peeking out from thick cotton padded jackets. Their whispering and pointing drowned out the roar of the motor, buzzing like a swarm of bees.

Zhao Xiaojun, Zhao Shunfa’s brother, pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He held his chin high, sneering: “Lin Xi’s lost her mind. Gambling her life on luck. Feudal superstition kills people.”

An auntie next to him shook her head, her eyes full of pity and fear: “Don’t look. It’s a bad omen. It brings bad luck.”

The boat reached the center of the shallows. The engine’s roar hit its peak. The surrounding water was deep and dark, hiding countless unknown observers. The first net went up. Silver shrimp flashed in the morning light, their density far exceeding the official survey records. It was like a flowing galaxy of stars falling into the hull. For a moment, the world seemed to go quiet, leaving only the faint, rhythmic sound of shrimp gills opening and closing.

Chen Haisheng’s face was full of shock, water dripping from his whiskers, but his hands didn’t stop. He pulled the net in faster. The rope, once tight, now sagged with a heavy, dizzying weight of hope. Shrimp meat piled up like a mountain, the strong, fresh scent spreading across the sea area. It was the smell of vitality—so intense, so real.

Zhao Shunfa shoved into the crowd, his face pale as iron. He raised his armband and shouted, the red cloth glaring against the gray sky: “Illegal operations! North Reef is a no-fishing zone! Stop right now!”

Lin Xi stood at the bow. The wind whipped her hair around. She held a glass test tube filled with liquid that measured water temperature and salinity, the contents swaying slightly as she responded calmly: “Secretary Zhao, the data is here. The water temperature is suitable today. The shrimp migration is compliant. Are you blocking the catch, or are you blocking people’s rice bowls?”

Zhao Shunfa faltered. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Looking at the hull filled with catch, a flash of greed and fear passed through his eyes. His gaze was like a vulture’s—craving to devour, yet afraid of the backlash.

The second and third nets came up full. The attitude of the onlookers shifted instantly. The suppressed mockery turned to awe. Some even stared with wide eyes, forgetting to blink. They started asking to help unload, and some even carried over their own stools. A rough wooden chair hit the rock with a dull *thud*, sounding surprisingly grounding.

Lin Xi calmly directed the distribution. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it had an undeniable cutting force. She prioritized compensating for damaged fishing boats, then picked up a chalkboard to publicly explain the principles of tides. The crisp tap of the chalk against the board was clear and bright, standing out against the noise.

Lin Xi tapped the board, her voice clear: “This isn’t mysticism. It’s science. Master the patterns, and you’ll live longer in the sea.”

An old fisherman scratched his head, rough fingers rubbing over his stubbled chin. He gave a humble, thick smile, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out: “I didn’t believe in it before, but now I do.” There was a relief in that smile, as if a misunderstanding that had lasted years had finally been cleared.

The sun set in the west. The sea turned golden-red, the ripples sparkling as if paved with crushed gold. The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving fish scales on the ground and the faint sound of laughter. Zhao Shunfa slipped away from the group, his expression gloomy, his figure vanishing at the dim end of the pier.

He pulled out an encrypted letter, his fingertips lightly rubbing over the red cable code. He felt the rough texture of the paper, his eyes cold, as if peering through the thin paper into a deeper vortex. The sea wind rose again, ruffling his furrowed brow, blowing away the day’s brief peace, leaving North Reef with a night full of variables.

Night fell deep. The bustle of the fishing port settled completely into the breathing of the tides. Lin Xi stood alone on the deck of the repaired fishing boat. The sea wind carried a briny, salt-heavy scent that hit her face, whipping the stray hairs across her forehead into a frenzy.

She didn’t go back to her quarters to rest. Instead, she pulled a yellowed, old nautical chart from inside her jacket. Using the faint halo of the pier’s searchlight, her fingers traced the lines representing deep-sea undercurrents.

“Uncle Chen, look here.” She kept her voice low, pointing to a dark section of the sea marked “Forbidden Zone” on the chart. The currents converged there, and the water temperature dropped sharply. It was a ghost gate that many fishermen avoided at all costs, but in Lin Xi’s eyes, it was the “trap” where the next high-value fish shoal was bound to pass.

Chen Haisheng was crouching under the mast, cleaning the nets. He looked up, his oil-streaked face full of confusion: “Kid, the waves are big tonight. That place is so dark the fish themselves go blind. Let’s not go touch bad luck.”

Lin Xi didn’t argue. She just unfolded the chart, pressing a corner down with a stone, and said flatly: “Trust is built on results, but survival is built on prediction. Tomorrow at three a.m., the wind shifts to the southeast. Plankton will gather there, and the shrimp shoal will sink along the thermocline.

If we don’t go, in another week, this area will fall silent again. And everyone’s livelihood will have to go back to the old way.”

Chen Haisheng stared at the chart, silent for a long time. He thought of how Lin Xi had moved on the rock clusters during the day. He thought of the incredible catch volume. His doubts faded like the receding tide, replaced by a heavy, solemn weight. He abruptly stood up, shaking water off his hands: “Five a.m. tomorrow. I’ll pull the boat out.”

Lin Xi nodded slightly, tucked the chart into her jacket, and turned to leave. Her shadow was stretched long in the light, looking lonely, yet carrying a kind of stubbornness that didn’t fit her age.

At the same time, in the shadows at the other end of the pier, Zhao Shunfa’s movements hadn’t stopped for the sake of the night. The secret letter from the smuggling syndicate lay in his open palm. The red cable code was glaring in the dim light, like unhealing wounds.

The content of the letter was short and cold. No pleasantries, no buildup. Just one line in bold: “Investigate that woman. Find out where her nautical charts came from. Confirm her background. If you find anything abnormal, remove the obstacle immediately.”

Zhao Shunfa’s fingers were white with the grip, his nails digging deep into his palm. He squinted, replaying the scene from the day when Lin Xi had explained the tidal principles. Those clear, yet bottomless eyes of hers. That wasn’t the look of an ordinary fisher’s daughter. It held a near-ice-cold rationality, and a kind of control that made him uneasy.

“Hmph. No matter how clean you act, you can’t wash the mud off.” Zhao Shunfa muttered the curse, tearing the letter apart. The scraps drifted in the wind like butterflies, then were swallowed by the seawater. He lit a cheap cigarette, taking a deep drag. In the swirling smoke, his gaze locked onto the lit research institute at the far end of the pier.

There wasn’t just Lin Xi. There was also a black sedan that had been coming and going frequently lately. The owner of that car was the “Marine Ecologist” sent down from the provincial capital—the biggest variable in his eyes.

“If you want to mess up the game, let’s see who sinks first.” Zhao Shunfa crushed the cigarette butt. The sparks scattered in the darkness, like the flicker of a killing intent in his eyes. He straightened his collar and disappeared into the deep night with light steps. Only a faint trace of tobacco smoke lingered in the wind that was about to churn the sea.

The night on North Reef looked calm, but the undercurrents were raging. A silent hunt against Lin Xi had already woven its net in the shadows.