The entire wilderness was gradually decaying under the rain, mist, and damp air. The stench of the sea wind grew stronger day by day, and the mold spread in the corners of walls without needing to spread.

Yet from start to finish, no one came.

So much so that in the end, after waiting day after day, everyone was nearly bored to death.

It was heard long ago that the bloodthirsty naval fleet and many other fleets had already set out, but oddly, not a single one was seen until now.

It was as if they had sunk right after setting sail.

Utterly bizarre.

Bad news occasionally came from the wilderness: small groups of Water Ghosts had managed to bypass Xinquan, crossing the coast and invading the inland, looting tirelessly.

After all, the coastline is so long, if there are no main gates, there are small paths.

Under the raging storm, those desperate pirate Water Ghosts came ashore, leaving a mess in their wake, and even the wailing fell silent.

Outside, it was chaos, but Xinquan remained calm and uneventful, making people restless from idleness.

So much so that everyone began to suspect that that damned General had chickened out, and this time it was nothing more than a great noise with little rain, just a bluff, retreating to other places.

Yet they were also worried this was some kind of ruse to lull them into complacency, so they had no choice but to continue to hold on.

Ji Jue was indifferent to this.

If they don't come, they don't. After the rainy season, it won't be so easy for them to get through the reefs and land on the coast anyway. He's not in a hurry, spending money just to make some noise.

Even if they really don't come, once the rainy season has passed, wouldn't he just take people to Harlot Town once more?

You come, I go—it's all the same. Wherever the feast is set up, isn't it all the same feast?

No difference at all.

And so, in the heavy rain, the days passed one by one...

.

The days stretched on, increasingly unbearable for some.

Especially Pacquiao, who, leading all his main forces in an all-out mobilization, dragged a huge fleet of Water Ghosts with him. The title of General was self-appointed, never officially recognized, but at this moment, as the discontent and uproar of the pirate Water Ghosts grew, he finally felt the pressure of leadership.

Bear in mind, these Water Ghosts came from all walks of life and were by no means submissive citizens. Managing them was ridiculously difficult.

People adhered to the philosophy of gathering into one smelly heap, scattering into an overwhelming stench; organization and discipline were mere pipe dreams better left spoken in dreams. Crossing swords at the slightest discord, fighting to the death was the norm.

To control such a group of ghostly creatures, one had to rely on both carrot and stick; enticing with distant benefits and threatening with immediate danger to barely motivate them.

But now, relying solely on the stick was about to fail.

While the carrot was still beyond reach...

The rainy season was always brief, fleeting just like opportunities for fortune. Everyone followed him out to sea, respecting him as leader, only to earn some filthy lucre, right?

Having been off station for so long, floating in the mist for nearly half a month already, not to mention money, they were almost out of food. In no time, many middle- and lower-level members began to express dissatisfaction and complaints. Even the top tier frequently pressured Pacquiao with sailor issues, urging him to fulfill the role of the leading patriarch, leading everyone to prosperity once again!

Unfortunately, Pacquiao remained motionless.

As if he were dead.

With past prestige and a mix of financial splurges, intimidation, and enticement, the bloodthirsty fleet allied with many fleets had almost shown signs of dominating the northwest region of the Endless Sea. Should they succeed in the raid this time, leading everyone to wealth, it would be no less than becoming the preeminent maritime power, holding sway over Canghuang Ocean. By then, what nonsense about the Seven Cities could stand in his way?

A little more effort, having a few more adoptive sons, nurturing them a bit, and within his lifetime, aiming for the position of the 'Three Scales Six Angles' wasn't impossible!

The premise is to get past this hurdle.

Goddamn Ji Jue! Ji Jue! Damn it's still Ji Jue!

An army moves before provisions; intelligence gathering starts even before the grain begins preparation.

Especially after Ji Jue completely severed ties and stomped Pacquiao's son to death, there was no room for reconciliation between the two. Pacquiao had once again spent a fortune buying information about Ji Jue from various sources, hoping for new updates.

Then, upon opening the first page, Pacquiao felt his vision go black.

It felt like Xu Chaoxian opening the door for Lu Changsheng...

Utterly bizarre!

The reliability of such intelligence could sometimes be even more fantastical than the Federation's stock market—filled with half-truths and deceptions, mixed truths and falsehoods, nine parts true to one false, shallow and deep intertwined, a complete mess!

Especially with the Tong family, such a monstrous entity silently stirring the waters behind the scenes, the many rumors and reports mixed with reality only made things more bewildering, harder to grasp.

Some said that this bastard named Ji, from the age of fourteen, became an apprentice. His teacher was a craftsman of low repute, not even registering a craftshop beyond a junior level. To reach where he is today, he relied on selling...

Others said he was actually a heaven-sent talent, a natural Ember suited for Superior and perfect jade, carving out a vast foundation from scratch within a year, becoming the chief among the Ember Craftsmen, a preordained golden ribbon, and his transformation complete.

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