The pitch-black night over the Changchun River stretched on endlessly through the thick mist. A few fishing boats drifted to and fro, keeping their distance, each bobbing independently on the water.
The Old Boatman continued to ply his oars at a leisurely pace, steering toward the center of the wide river. The passenger had not uttered a single word the entire time, and the boatman, knowing better, kept his silence as well. As they moved further and further away from the bank, the smile at the corners of his mouth grew increasingly serene.
A boat without a destination will find the right direction no matter where it sails—though the Old Boatman thought this to himself, he still hoped this excessively silent passenger would give him a definite heading.
Chapter 526