The Chess King is on Mishan Island
by Zhu Honglei
About This Novel
Chen Guo swallowed hard. If his judgment was correct, they should be facing a small part of Zhuang Hanyuan. His soul was once attached to this bone. A generation of chess kings once stayed there during their turbulent years. But at this moment, if you look closely, you can see that this bone is not much different from the broken shells rolled up by the sea water, the dirty yellow-green seaweed, the dried starfish, the broken glass of the grass-green beer bottles stuck in the mud, and even the smelly fish and rotten shrimps. They were a mess, washed over and back again by waves of sea water. Chen Guo felt difficulty breathing and her legs were a little weak. At this time, she held her chest and said, "I can't bear it anymore. I... Feel... Dizzy. I feel like... I'm... Gone." Chen Guo looked like she was seasick and water-sick, and she couldn't speak clearly. But Xiao Wu understood. He saw the waves of the sea in front of him surging, one wave after another, one after another. It had been surging for hundreds, thousands, or even tens of thousands of years. Of course, it was still surging, endless and boundless like time. At this moment, Xiao Wu has forgotten the pain of being squeezed out of the outstanding quota. Not only this, but many, many things that made him toss and turn in pain are no longer there. Yes, they are all gone.
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