Yuming's POV

The morning we set sail, the ocean seemed more alive than ever. Waves rolled against the ship's hull, the rhythm steady and unyielding, while the sea breeze tore through the sails with a force that made them snap sharply above us. The salty air burned my lungs as I stood on the deck, watching the shoreline shrink into a thin strip of green on the horizon.

It was strange, seeing the land disappear. The scent of salt and the spray of water were foreign to me, as was the constant motion beneath my feet. Each step on the swaying deck felt like a fight to keep my balance, and more than once, I had to catch myself on a railing or a rope to keep from falling.

The crew moved around me like a well-oiled machine, their boots thudding against the wooden planks as they barked orders and hauled ropes. I tried to stay out of their way, sticking to the edge of the deck where I wouldn't be noticed.

But it wasn't long before one of them caught sight of me.

"Hey, river rat!"

I flinched at the nickname but turned toward the voice. It was one of the younger crew members, a wiry man with a gap-toothed grin. He gestured toward a pile of coiled ropes near the mast.

"Make yourself useful and untangle those."

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

The ropes were heavy and stiff with salt, and my fingers ached as I worked to unravel the knots. It wasn't glamorous work, but it was better than standing idle and inviting more attention from the crew.

As the day wore on, I was assigned more tasks—scrubbing the deck, cleaning the galley, and helping repair a torn sail. The work was exhausting, my muscles screaming in protest with every movement, but I pushed through it.

The crew didn't make things any easier.

Though most of them ignored me, a few took every opportunity to mock or belittle me.

"Careful with that bucket, girl! Don't want to fall overboard!"

"Maybe we should tie a rope around her waist, eh? Don't think she can swim!"

Their laughter grated on my nerves, but I bit my tongue and kept my head down. There was no point in arguing with them.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sea in shades of gold and crimson, I was ready to collapse. My arms and legs felt like lead, and every step was a struggle.

I was grateful when the cook called me into the galley to help prepare dinner. It was hot and cramped below deck, the air thick with the smell of salt pork and onions, but at least it was a break from the wind and the endless stares.

The cook, a burly man named Gorik, was gruff but not unkind. He barked instructions at me as I peeled potatoes and scrubbed pans, but he didn't seem to mind having me around.

"You did not bad today," he said gruffly as he handed me a bowl of stew.

I stared at him in surprise. It was the first time anyone on the ship had said something remotely nice me.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Thank you," I said quietly, taking the bowl.

He grunted in response and turned back to the stove.

~~~

That night, I stayed on deck for a while, leaning against the railing and staring out at the dark water. The ship rocked gently beneath me, the waves glowing faintly under the moonlight. It was strangely calming, despite everything.

But as the hours passed and the crew began to settle for the night, I found myself growing restless. The events of the day had left me too exhausted to sleep, but my mind wouldn't stop racing.

I decided to head below deck, hoping that the dim light and the hum of voices would help distract me.

That was when I heard them.

Jun's voice was unmistakable, low, and commanding.

"We can't afford any mistakes," he was saying. "Not this time."

I paused, pressing myself against the wall just outside the room where he and two of his crew members were talking. The door was slightly ajar, and their voices carried easily through the narrow hallway.

"What about the patrols?" one of the men asked. "If they catch wind of us, it's over."

"They won't," Jun replied. "We'll be in and out before they even realize we're there."

"And what about her?"

I froze, my heart pounding.

"What about her?" Jun asked coolly.

"She's a liability," the man said. "We don't know anything about her. What if she's a spy?"

"She's not a spy," Jun said firmly. "She's just a girl trying to survive."

There was a pause, and I held my breath, straining to hear every word.

"Still," the other man said. "She's a risk. You know that."

"I'll handle her," Jun said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You just focus on the plan."

The conversation shifted after that, the men discussing routes, supplies, and something about a hidden cache of treasure. But I couldn't focus on their words.

I backed away from the door, my mind racing.

A risk. That's what they thought of me.

I returned to my corner on the deck, curling up beneath the same coarse cloth I'd used the night before. The cold seeped through the fabric, but I barely noticed it.

Jun had defended me, but I wasn't naive enough to think it was out of kindness. To him, I was just another piece on the board, a pawn he could use until I became more trouble than I was worth.

I pulled the cloth tighter around myself, my mind swirling with doubts and fears.

The gentle rocking of the ship eventually lulled me into a fitful sleep, but the voices from the hallway stayed with me, echoing in the corners of my mind.

~~

The next day was much the same as the one before—hard labor, mocking laughter, and the ever-present ache of exhaustion.

But something had changed.

I couldn't stop thinking about the conversation I'd overheard.

I watched Jun from a distance as he moved about the ship, barking orders and consulting maps with the crew. His expression was unreadable, his every movement calculated and precise.

For the first time, I wondered what kind of man he really was.

He wasn't like the rest of the crew—there was a sharpness to him, a quiet intensity that set him apart. He wasn't cruel, but he wasn't kind either. He was...something else.

And that made him dangerous.

~~

That night, as the ship sailed deeper into the open sea, I found myself drawn to the stern, where the stars stretched endlessly above me.

The air was cold, and the wind tugged at my hair, but I didn't mind. For a moment, I could almost forget where I was—almost imagine that I was back home, staring up at the same stars from the banks of the river.

But the sound of footsteps behind me pulled me back to reality.

I turned to see Jun standing a few feet away, his arms crossed as he leaned against the railing.

"You're still awake," he said, his tone neutral.

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted.

He nodded, his gaze shifting to the horizon.

We stood in silence for a while, the only sound the creak of the ship and the whisper of the wind.

Finally, I gathered the courage to speak.

"What are you planning?" I asked quietly.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "What makes you think I'm planning anything?"

"I heard you last night," I said before I could stop myself. "You and the others. You said you couldn't afford any mistakes."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't look angry—just curious.

"You were eavesdropping?"

"I didn't mean to," I said quickly. "I just...I was passing by."

He studied me for a moment, then sighed.

"You're smarter than you look," he said. "But don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong. It's safer for you that way."

I wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the look in his eyes stopped me.

For the first time, I realized just how deep the waters I was treading really were.