chapter 1
In the winter of 20XX, Ning Qiuyan set foot on the island for the first time.
The weather was gloomy that day, and the wind was fierce. From two or three in the morning, the wind howled like ghosts and wolves. When he woke up, both the TV and his phone pushed news alerts: the entire northern region was about to experience a sharp drop in temperature, and it might even snow.
Such weather was hardly suitable for going out, let alone heading out to sea.
But Ning Qiuyan had no intention of missing the appointment.
He barely slept all night. At five in the morning, he got up with a clear mind, washed up, and made a simple breakfast: a cup of hot milk and an egg.
At that time, the sky outside was still dark, and the wind continued to blow.
Tree shadows swayed, lights flickered, and he sat alone at the table eating, once again opening the map on his phone.
He couldn’t remember how many times he’d looked at this map.
A solitary patch of earth color stood out in the deep blue sea, marked with two small characters: Du Island.
Du Island, a privately owned island.
On the map, it was about 78 kilometers in a straight line from the edge of Wutong City’s mainland. The island itself was quite large, about eighty thousand mu. But it was neither a scenic paradise nor close to other developed islands. After it was bought, it faded from public view, becoming a forgotten place.
At six o’clock, before leaving, Ning Qiuyan carefully locked all the doors and windows at home and left a note on the table.
The note clearly stated his destination and the reason for leaving home-meant for the police, since unexplained disappearances are most common among people who live alone.
Of course, if something really happened to him, there were people who could help the police solve the case, like his friend Su Jianzhou.
But Su Jianzhou was a dog-tired intern doctor. Ning Qiuyan was sure that by the time Su Jianzhou realized he was missing, grass might already be growing on his grave.
On the crowded morning bus, filled with the scents of various breakfasts, Ning Qiuyan listened to a song.
It was “The Wolves and the Ravens” by Rogue Valley. The title was about wolves and ravens, but actually had nothing to do with them.
The right earbud was broken, the bus was noisy, and it was uncomfortable to listen to, so he didn’t finish the song. But long after he closed the music app, the melody and lyrics echoed in his mind.
So at the next stop, Ning Qiuyan got off the bus, went back home, found his slightly dusty guitar case in the closet, and slung the guitar over his back.
Passing by the table, he thought for a few seconds and tore up the ridiculous note.
He had just overlooked a key fact: since last month, apart from people wanting money, no one would report him missing.
This time, he ran into the morning rush hour and it took him a while to get back on the bus.
Transferring to the coach at the terminal took longer than expected. Ning Qiuyan was rather pessimistic about this; he thought, not very responsibly, that if the person waiting for him at the destination got tired and left, then it wouldn’t count as him missing the appointment.
Ning Qiuyan bought the ticket, still feeling pessimistic.
It was a two-hour journey from the station to the Du Island dock.
To get there, he had to tell the driver in advance after boarding, otherwise the driver would likely just drive past-the place was almost never a stop for anyone.
Sure enough, when the driver heard Ning Qiuyan’s request, he gave him a strange look: “With this weather, what are you going to a place like that for?”
Ning Qiuyan, carrying a guitar and a bulging canvas bag, wrapped up in a scarf and hat, was bundled up tightly, with only a pair of black grape-like eyes showing-clearly still young.
“For a part-time job,” he replied earnestly.
The driver frowned: “What kind of part-time job is there at the dock?”
Ning Qiuyan thought for a moment: “Collecting marine debris blown ashore by the wind.”
The driver asked again: “Do your family agree?”
There was only himself at home, so Ning Qiuyan nodded on his own behalf: “They fully agree and support it.”
The warm-hearted driver didn’t ask further, just waved his hand: “Alright, I’ll call you when we get there!”
Ning Qiuyan found a seat and quietly watched the scenery outside the window.
When they reached the dock, the driver let him off and even leaned out from the driver’s seat to remind him: “Kid, the wind and waves are big today, don’t go out to sea on your own! Several people have drowned at this dock this year! The bodies that washed ashore were so soaked they were unrecognizable-think about your family and friends!”
Ning Qiuyan stood silently on the deserted asphalt road, watching the bus drive away.
The frozen, hardened road was covered with dead leaves. Gusts of wind sent the fallen leaves swirling in the air, and the cold wind slashed at his face, stinging like a knife.
He took out his phone and followed the navigation toward the rather ominous-looking dock.
*
Ning Qiuyan wasn’t sure if the navigation was malfunctioning, but he walked for over ten minutes through a patch of Forest.
Having lived in Wutong City for more than a decade, he had never, for any reason, come to such a distant and secluded place. If not for this occasion, he might never have realized just how vast Wutong City actually was.
The fallen leaves in the Forest were piled thick. Walking on them, his steps sank and rose, making creaking sounds.
His footsteps startled the birds hidden in the winter woods. Flocks of dark shapes flapped out from the treetops.
“Caw-”
The birds’ shrill cries echoed in the air.
If this whole thing was a scam from the start, then usually, a place like this would be the perfect spot for a crime.
The victim might be kidnapped, or even killed. Here, his desperate cries for help would go unheard. The victim might even be dismembered after suffering inhuman torment, and the hungry fish in the sea would take care of the remains, leaving no trace behind.
No one would ever discover that someone had vanished from the world.
Ning Qiuyan thought, if that were the case, would this count as a slow suicide?
After walking a few more minutes, the muffled sound of waves grew louder, and the coastline gradually came into view.
There were some old boats piled up on the beach, their hulls covered in all sorts of angry, frenzied graffiti. After being battered by the winter sea wind, the graffiti had become blurred, but it was clear they were the work of people going through a rebellious phase.
Judging from the reaction of the driver earlier, Ning Qiuyan guessed these boats belonged to some young people who used the private dock illegally.
Private docks weren’t as strictly regulated as public ones; there was no need for permits from the relevant authorities, so people often snuck out to sea via private docks.
It seemed the owner of Du Island didn’t care, so things here were even more chaotic than he’d imagined.
After walking another hundred or two hundred meters, through the shifting shadows of the Forest, Ning Qiuyan saw a white ship that stood out from the rest.
The white ship was moored beside the dock, bobbing with the waves. Its hull gleamed from careful maintenance, clearly belonging to someone very wealthy-the kind of wealth ordinary people could never touch.
He let out a sigh of relief.
There was only one person on the deck, a man of about forty.
The man shouted to him through the wind, “Are you Ning Qiuyan?”
The question sounded like a secret code.
Ning Qiuyan tightened the strap of his canvas bag, his heart beating a little faster. “Yes.”
The man jerked his chin. “Get on board!”
That fast?
No ID check, no verification of any other information-just get on board?
Ning Qiuyan’s nose was red from the cold, and he minded this casualness a bit. He hesitated and asked, “The wind is so strong today. Is it safe to go out to sea?”
The man glanced at him but ignored the question, heading straight into the cabin.
Ning Qiuyan stood there for a moment, weighing his options and deciding that having no money was scarier than death.
He had no choice but to bow to money, so he boarded the ship.
It was much warmer inside the cabin, and the decor was less luxurious than he’d imagined-calm and understated. Besides the man who had been on the deck, there was also a Boy about the same age as Ning Qiuyan.
The Boy was already sitting on the sofa closest to the corner, wrapped tightly in a blanket, probably because he was afraid of the cold-his whole body was covered up.
Ning Qiuyan found another seat and greeted him proactively: “Hello, my name is Ning Qiuyan.”
Unexpectedly, the Boy just glanced at him coldly, then turned his gaze back to the inner wall of the cabin, clearly not intending to respond.
Ning Qiuyan closed his mouth, hugging his canvas bag and guitar, and fell silent as well.
When it came to acting cool, he wasn’t about to lose.
“You can call me Uncle Ping.” The man from the deck spoke bluntly, addressing Ning Qiuyan without ceremony. “From now on, I’ll be the one picking you up here every month. You were twenty minutes late today. I hope you can arrive earlier next time.”
Ning Qiuyan took off his hat and scarf, his black, soft hair tousled: “Okay, Uncle Ping.”
He had delicate features and a youthful look, clearly the type of child raised in a good family. It was hard to imagine why he would come to a place like this.
Uncle Ping’s attitude improved, and with a slightly gentler expression, he said, “We’ve gone out to sea in weather several times worse than this. These waves are nothing. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get to the island safely, just as Mr. Guan instructed.”
Ning Qiuyan replied, “Alright, Uncle Ping, I’m fine.”
The boy turned his head, apparently taken aback by his deferential response, but Ning Qiuyan maintained his cool, not even glancing at him.
After Uncle Ping gave the order via the walkie-talkie, the boat began to move.
Ning Qiuyan asked Uncle Ping how long it would take to get there. Uncle Ping replied, “With today’s weather, it’ll probably be over two hours. What, are you seasick?”
Ning Qiuyan shook his head. “I’m fine.”
In reality, their journey to Du Island took four hours that day.
Not long after departure, freezing rain began to fall over the sea. Once the gray-blue horizon filled their vision and all sense of direction was lost-just as the weather forecast had predicted-it started snowing over the ocean, too.
Black clouds pressed in, the sky and sea merging into a single line.
The sky hung so low it felt as if it might collapse straight into the sea.
Ning Qiuyan vomited twice in the restroom, swallowed a seasickness pill Uncle Ping had given him, then lay down on the wide, soft sofa and dozed off, never daring to look at the sea again.
Half awake, half asleep, he started to wonder why anyone would choose to live on Du Island.
Du Island was isolated from the world and hard to reach. If it was just for a vacation, that might make sense, but choosing to live there permanently felt almost inhuman. Were all these so-called secret tycoons really so different?
Ning Qiuyan had heard of people living on Du Island.
Two years ago, the name “Guan Heng” first appeared on the secret tycoon rankings. His dramatic purchase of Du Island for billions put him instantly at the top of the list.
Living an ordinary life himself, the only reason Ning Qiuyan even noticed the secret tycoon rankings was the photo of Guan Heng that came with it.
In that photo, the man was caught as he bent to step out of a car, his long black hair casually tucked behind one ear, his jawline sharply defined, showing only a strikingly pale profile. The whole image had a soft, almost ethereal androgyny.
The photo spread quickly, and Ning Qiuyan had clicked on it by chance in a class group chat.
To be honest, he vaguely remembered that the photo wasn’t very clear-probably taken at night-so the man’s features were impossible to distinguish.
Yet that blurry photo set off a frenzy. Guan Heng became a byword for mystery, elegance, and wealth. For a while, everyone online wanted to know who Guan Heng was, eager for more information about this young tycoon.
Some speculated it was just hype, but within a few days, everything about Guan Heng vanished from the internet without a trace. The people at the top of the secret tycoon rankings showed just how powerful capital could be.
No one could have guessed that this mysterious young tycoon was actually a patient with a blood disorder.
Three months ago, through a friend’s introduction, Ning Qiuyan donated blood for a private project at Wutong City Hospital. As a rare Rh-negative blood volunteer, he was able to secure some preferential medical treatment for his mother.
A week ago, Ning Qiuyan received an email outlining an urgent request for his help and offering a generous reward.
To Ning Qiuyan’s surprise, the person in need was none other than the mysterious tycoon who had flashed across the internet two years ago: Guan Heng.
“Are you sure you want to go?” asked Su Jianzhou, who had introduced him to the private blood donation project. “It’s so frequent-an ordinary person should rest at least half a year after donating blood once. Can your body handle it?”
“I want to go,” Ning Qiuyan replied after thinking it over all night. “I need the money.”
According to the agreement, Ning Qiuyan would board a boat to Du Island on the last Friday of every month, returning to Wutong with the supply ship the following Monday.
The arrangement would last for half a year, a total of six months.
This meant that, for the man named Guan Heng, he would serve as a human blood‑bag donor six times.