"Don't ask yet," he said. "If I'm not mistaken, someone on this boat is definitely going to die tonight." He continued, "This thing is a harbinger of death."

As he spoke, he looked around. I followed his gaze, but under the dim lantern light in the cabin, nothing could be seen clearly. Annie said, "What are you looking at? What exactly is it? Speak clearly."

Henry Clark said, "This thing is a night demon, a kind of monster, lurking at the bottom of the cabin, eating one person each night. It just makes a few cries, and those with weak yang energy have their souls taken. With this thing here, it can keep the boat safe. No matter how small the boat, as long as it's protected by this thing, it won't capsize even in the biggest storms. But it needs to eat one person every day. Now I understand why the Fuchang never fears going out to sea—turns out they're keeping this thing on board. On our journey, a few people dying wouldn't even be noticed, and no one would know what really happened."

"Really?" I was skeptical. I had never heard of such a thing and found it a bit absurd. Henry Clark said, "Believe it or not, looks like we need to find a way to protect ourselves. Do you remember how those talismans are written?"

I shook my head—who could remember that? Henry Clark exchanged a glance with Uncle Grant and said, "Fine, you useless coward. Not that I expected anything from you." Then he whispered something to Uncle Grant and said, "Don't tell anyone about this. If word gets out, we'll be the first to die. Everyone's fate is their own—" He had barely finished when suddenly, we heard a woman crying outside the cabin: "You can't just die like this... We haven't even set out to sea, you have to wake up!"

Henry Clark looked outside and slapped his thigh. "It's happened! Someone's been taken! Let's go check it out." With that, he immediately headed out.

I thought for a moment, then stood up and called to Annie, "I'm going to take a look too." Seeing the confusion in Annie's eyes, I explained, "I'm a doctor. I'll know at a glance if something's wrong. This boat is definitely strange—if it's real, we should be prepared."

Not caring about the rocking of the boat, I steadied myself along the side planks as I walked and looked around. When I reached the cabin door, I immediately saw someone lying on the deck. Looking closer, I realized it was the man in the long gown who had fallen overboard earlier. He had changed into dry clothes but was still unconscious on the floor. A woman sat beside him, sobbing. I found it odd—hadn't this man already been rescued? Why did it seem like he'd been unconscious the whole time and still hadn't woken up?

I stood there and saw that the woman's face was already dry of tears. She was sobbing mechanically, numbly patting the man's face and pinching his philtrum, her voice mournful: "Brother David, wake up, wake up, don't scare me..."

Henry Clark glanced at me, as if to say, "It's this guy."

Feeling sorry, I walked over and said, "Let me take a look." I squatted down beside the man and found his eyes tightly shut, lips purple, with a large puddle of water next to him. It looked like he had swallowed a lot of seawater when he fell in, and had vomited it out while unconscious, emitting a strange, fishy stench. I frowned and asked the woman, "Did he vomit this water?"

She nodded. I immediately understood and said, "Your man swallowed too much seawater during the day. He didn't vomit it out at the time, and after being tossed around for so long, the seawater in his stomach made him pass out. As long as we can get the seawater out of his stomach, he'll be fine."

"How do we do that? I don't know how. Should I turn him over?" The woman, flustered, hurriedly turned her man face down.

Uncle Grant and Henry Clark grinned slyly. "We know how, but..." They glanced over the woman's delicate face. Uncle Grant, belly protruding, walked behind her, bent down, and swallowed hard. "Miss, stop wailing like that. Your man won't die so easily. What's your name?"

Seeing his look, I knew this was bad—these two bastards were up to their old tricks again.

"My name is Linda Brooks," the woman said, lost and dazed. "He's my husband, Edward Hill."

"Haha, Edward?" Uncle Grant and Henry Clark laughed again. "Why such a name? What's a man doing 'guarding masculinity'? A man should be guarding femininity, don't you think?"

I thought, a dog can't change its ways! Seeing the woman so naive, I couldn't stand to watch her get tricked any longer. I was about to say I was a doctor and could check what was wrong with the man. Annie also came out and said to us, "That sound followed us out."

"What?" I asked. Annie said, "Listen!"

I quieted down, and at that moment, I heard that strange moaning sound again. This time, it really was coming from beneath our feet.

"Just as I thought," Henry Clark said. "This guy's done for, and the sound has come out. There's really a man-eating night demon under the boat! That bastard Jiao is really dabbling in dark arts."

I broke out in a sweat, because I suddenly felt that from the stern to the cabin to the deck, the sound seemed to be following me.

Just as I was thinking this, there was a sudden thud—a thick fish harpoon shot out from the bow, its gleaming tip deeply embedded in the deck, startling everyone.