Chapter 290: Let’s Take The Bait

Shichen watched Zhiyi pick at the loose thread caught near the fish’s mouth.

Hanchuan had asked how she managed without a fire in their first life, but she seemed more interested in freeing the thread than answering him.

Her hair slipped forward as she bent over the cushion cover, hiding part of her face.

"When I was away from you, I sometimes ate it raw," Zhiyi said eventually with a small shrug. "If I found somewhere to cook, I brought yours back that way. You could eat it more easily, and I didn’t want you getting sick while I was out."

Hanchuan reached across the cover and moved her hair behind her ear.

He didn’t answer immediately, and Shichen looked away before the moment became something they were all watching.

He had heard them talk about those years before, but usually there was a reason for it.

They needed to know what weather to expect, how long a disaster would last, or what had happened when people ran out of food.

He hadn’t often thought about Zhiyi sitting somewhere alone, eating what she could catch before trying to bring something better home.

Qinghe settled beside the cover and rested his forearms on his knees. He looked tired enough that Shichen wondered how long he had been awake before taking over the bucket.

"I’d rather we didn’t start with raw fish if we can help it," Qinghe said, looking between Hanchuan and Zhiyi. "Getting sick out here would leave us in much worse trouble. Let’s use some for bait and see what we can find before we make that choice."

Zhiyi stopped working at the thread and laid her hand flat beside the fish.

Shichen could see that she was hungry in the way she kept looking at it, but she nodded and showed Hanchuan how little they needed to cut.

"Leave the skin on that piece," Zhiyi told him as he picked up the knife. "It should stay on the hook longer. If we lose it straight away, we’ll spend more time feeding the fish than catching them."

Hanchuan held the fish still while Jingwei kept the cover from slipping beneath his hand. Shichen moved back to the hatch, giving them room to work.

The water had risen since the last bucketful, though it was coming in slowly enough now that he didn’t have to hurry.

He crouched, dipped the bucket, and waited for the boat to settle before lifting it.

His shoulders protested as he emptied it over the side.

Yesterday, he would have stopped whatever he was doing and stretched, perhaps gone to find something to drink.

He looked toward the bottle tied beneath the seat, then returned to the hatch without reaching for it.

Hanchuan came over before he had filled the bucket again. He took the handle and nodded toward Zhiyi, who was trying to wind the spare line around the brush without catching the hook in her skirt.

"Go and sit with her. You’ve been down here long enough," Hanchuan said, lowering himself beside the opening. "Have her show you what she’s doing so we can take turns. Her hands need a rest as much as yours do."

Shichen wiped his palms against his trousers before approaching her.

There wasn’t much space beside the rail, but Zhiyi moved her foot and shifted toward him, making it clear that she expected him to sit close.

His jacket was still folded beneath her heel. She had tucked the sleeves out of the water, and the sight made him smile despite the ache in his arms.

"I’ve come to find out how much attention I was paying," Shichen told her as he sat. "I watched you catch the first one, but I’m fairly sure I missed everything that mattered before you lifted it."

Zhiyi placed the brush handle in his palm, then drew a short length of line between his fingers. She didn’t explain everything at once. Instead, she waited while he worked out how to hold it, adjusting his hand when he gripped too tightly.

"You need to feel it pull," Zhiyi said, touching the cord where it crossed his finger. "If you hold it like that, you’ll feel the boat moving more than anything else. Let a little more out, and I’ll show you."

Shichen followed her instructions while Jingwei lowered the baited hook over the side. Once it was clear of the hull, Jingwei moved back with the cushion cover ready, leaving Shichen to watch the pale scrap disappear beneath them.

Zhiyi’s hand remained near his, her fingertips occasionally brushing his wrist as she corrected him.

He found himself paying as much attention to that as to the line.

There had been plenty of afternoons when she sat beside him while he drew, but those had usually ended with someone calling her to dinner or Hanchuan coming to collect her for a walk.

Shichen had grown used to letting her go while he finished whatever was in front of him.

Now he wished he had put down his pencil more often.

A wave lifted the boat, and Zhiyi leaned against him to keep her balance.

Shichen slipped his free arm behind her before she could straighten, settling his hand at her waist. She glanced at him, then stayed where she was, her shoulder warm through the damp fabric of his shirt.

"Is this all right?" Shichen asked, moving his elbow so it wouldn’t press against her life jacket. "I’d rather you leaned on me than kept catching yourself against the rail."

Zhiyi adjusted her leg and rested more comfortably against his side. "Your arm’s fine there. Just keep watching the line. You’ve pulled it up again."

Shichen looked down and found that she was right. He had raised his hand while making room for her, bringing the hook much closer to the surface. He lowered it with a quiet laugh, grateful that she hadn’t moved away.

"I used to be better at doing two things at once," Shichen admitted. "Although you’ve always been fairly good at making me forget what I was working on."

Zhiyi turned toward him, and he could almost see her going back through the afternoons they had spent together, trying to work out whether he was complaining. Shichen brushed a wet strand of hair from her cheek before she could ask.

"I liked having you there," he added, letting his hand linger near her face. "I’d hear you come into the room and start moving things off the chair before you’d even asked to sit down. Then you’d tell me you only needed something from the shelf, and I’d have to find a reason to keep you."

Her expression softened as she considered that. She looked toward the water again, but her hand came to rest over his where it lay against her waist.

"You could have asked me to stay. I liked watching you draw, even when I didn’t understand what you were making yet."

Shichen had wanted to hear something like that when they still had chairs, pencils, and a room where he could be alone with her.

Hearing it now made him want to pull her closer, despite the wet clothes and the smell of fish on the cover beside them.

"I’ll remember that," Shichen told her, bending to kiss her hair. "Once we’ve got somewhere I can sit without worrying about falling out, I’m going to want you beside me."

Zhiyi remained against him, watching the place where the line entered the water.

For a while, he let himself enjoy having her there without trying to decide what else he ought to say.

Behind them, Hanchuan emptied another bucket, and Zeyu muttered over the pump parts he had laid across a seat. Every so often Jingwei looked up from the cover to check the horizon.

The first tug was so slight that Shichen thought he had imagined it. His fingers tightened, and he began lifting his hand before Zhiyi touched his wrist.

"Let it take the bait," Zhiyi murmured, leaning forward with him. "You’re bringing it away too soon."

Shichen stopped, feeling her fingers guide his hand back down. The line slackened, then pulled again with enough force that he no longer had to wonder. Zhiyi shifted beside him, her attention fixed on the water.

He followed her as she showed him how to bring the fish toward Jingwei. It was harder than watching had made it seem.

The fish kept turning beneath the hull, and whenever Shichen tried to hurry, Zhiyi eased his hand back. He was afraid of losing it, but he was more afraid of pulling so hard that the rough little hook came free.

Jingwei knelt with one knee braced against the side and lowered the cover.

Shichen kept the line close until the fish broke the surface, then brought it toward the waiting fabric. Jingwei lifted with it, folding the cover over before the fish could jump.

Shichen let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He was still staring at the bundle when Zhiyi smiled up at him, her hand warm around his wrist despite the cold.

He turned his palm beneath hers and lifted her fingers to his mouth. The kiss lasted only a moment, but she looked at him afterward instead of immediately turning toward the fish, and he wanted to remember that expression when he had the time to think about it properly.

Jingwei set the cover on the deck between his knees. Qinghe came closer to help him remove the hook while Shichen unwound the slack from his fingers, careful not to tangle what they would need again.

The fish was larger than the first, though still nothing like a meal for six people.

Something pale protruded from its mouth beside the bait, and Jingwei worked carefully until a crumpled piece of plastic came loose with the hook.

A strip of silver wrapping clung to it, fluttering against his wet fingers.

Zhiyi leaned away from Shichen to look over the rail.

He followed her gaze and noticed another piece of wrapping turning in the water, followed by a torn bag that slipped beneath the bow. Farther out, broken wood and pale scraps rose between the waves.

Zeyu put down the screwdriver he had been using and moved toward the helm.

As the boat lifted, Shichen could see how far the debris stretched, with larger pieces gathered beyond the scattered rubbish nearest them.

Hanchuan set the bucket down and came to the rail. Zhiyi caught his sleeve, pointing past a floating length of wood toward something that kept disappearing behind the waves.

"There’s a container caught in that," she said, waiting until it rose again so he could see. "The lid’s still on it."