After just finishing the bandaging, the small boat was rocked violently. Isaac Hall scrambled up onto the deck, only to see the woman jumping back and forth between the bow and stern, seemingly trying to steer the boat toward the shore, but unable to find any oars or paddles on board. Judging by her actions, this woman clearly had no idea how to handle a boat, only causing it to sway even more. Perhaps still shaken from nearly drowning, the rocking scared her so much that she screamed and, in a panic, clung tightly to the mast, refusing to let go.

Fortunately, Isaac Hall had already taken down the sail and dropped the anchor. The stability of this single-masted sailboat was excellent, so it wasn’t overturned by the clueless young woman. Isaac Hall stood on the deck, moving with the rocking of the boat, and with a few light taps of his toes during the lulls, he quickly stabilized the vessel. Then, with his hands behind his back, he glared angrily at the woman, plotting various ways to get back at her in his mind.

Braised? Deep-fried? Steamed? Or grilled?

Once the boat stopped rocking, the woman cautiously loosened her grip on the mast. Seeing that nothing happened, she immediately put her hands on her hips and, with an air of authority, began scolding Isaac Hall.

Isaac Hall gave her a simple, honest smile and said straightforwardly, “I don’t understand. I can’t understand what you’re saying.” With that, he suddenly lifted his foot and kicked the woman into the sea.

The water was deep. The woman flailed in panic for a moment before suddenly grabbing onto something hard. She clung desperately to it, bobbing up and down in the water. Once she calmed down and looked closely, she realized she was holding onto the tip of a hooked spear. Following the shaft with her eyes, she saw that the other end was firmly gripped by that infuriating man on the deck. The man still wore that simple, honest expression, looking at her innocently.

The woman clung tightly to the hooked spear and started cursing him again, but after only a few words, the spear suddenly dipped into the water, and a mouthful of salty seawater choked her, cutting off her shouting. After swallowing several gulps of water, Isaac Hall lifted the spear, raising the woman’s upper body out of the water. He smiled at her with that same honest look and said calmly, “My turf, my rules. You don’t get a say here, got it?”

The woman couldn’t understand what Isaac Hall was saying, but seeing his tall figure and stern gaze, she was left speechless and let him pull her back onto the deck.

The small boat, carrying the woman, sailed back toward the river mouth. Isaac Hall chose a spot a little farther from the seven men and let the woman ashore. As the seven men rushed over, Isaac Hall turned the rudder and steered the boat back toward the center of the river.

These men were extremely fierce, and Isaac Hall didn’t want to deal with them, but his mind was full of questions he couldn’t let go of. Not knowing where he was, he couldn’t choose a destination, so he could only steer the boat, lingering in the middle of the river.

The seven men ran up to the haughty woman, and after a brief exchange, all seven knelt down in unison, bowing deeply toward Isaac Hall in the center of the river, as if thanking him for saving the woman.

After the formal salute, the seven men jumped up together, waving their weapons and shouting at Isaac Hall in the middle of the river. Isaac Hall understood that they were displeased because he had offended the woman during the rescue, and they were challenging him.

Amid the commotion, the woman’s voice rang out, crisp and clear, and from her tone, it seemed she was scolding the men. Sure enough, the seven men immediately put away their weapons, knelt down on the riverbank, and bowed to Isaac Hall again. Then the woman placed one hand on her forehead and the other pressed to her chest, and with graceful poise, bent deeply at the waist toward Isaac Hall in a formal bow.

Isaac Hall remained still, and the people on the shore also stayed prostrate. The woman kept bowing toward the center of the river, maintaining that strange posture and calling out words Isaac Hall couldn’t understand.

The scene looked like an ancient painting: a great river, seawater, thatched huts, a group of kneeling men, a delicate woman performing a strange ritual; in the middle of the river, a small sailboat bobbed up and down, with a bewildered Isaac Hall standing on board.

Vaguely, Isaac Hall noticed that their rituals were quite archaic, and holding that posture must be uncomfortable—Isaac Hall tried to imitate it himself and found that it took all his muscles to maintain the pose, and he still couldn’t match the girl’s elegance. Seeing the petite woman’s forehead beaded with sweat as she struggled to keep up the strange posture, Isaac Hall felt a twinge of pity. This compassion made Isaac Hall forget the danger, and he gently turned the rudder, bringing the boat to shore a little distance from the kneeling men.

The kneeling men immediately leapt up and rushed toward the boat. Isaac Hall’s hand was already on the fire axe by the rudder, his gaze calm but the muscles at the corners of his mouth tense, and a faint sound of his teeth clenching could be heard.

The woman seemed to sense the tension. She sharply rebuked the seven strong men, who immediately knelt down again, their foreheads pressed to the ground, in a manner somewhat reminiscent of Japanese samurai rituals. The woman then approached alone, speaking and gesturing rapidly to Isaac Hall.

Trying to communicate in two different languages was like chickens and ducks talking. The woman and Isaac Hall tried for a long time but got nowhere. But Isaac Hall refused to leave the boat, his feet surrounded by the boat’s weapons: a fire axe, a hooked spear, and a shark gun. He just cocked his head, closely observing this group of violent men before him.