When the salty seawater poured into his nose, Lin Zhou truly realized that this was not a dream.
Three minutes ago, he was still in the office building changing the code that would never be finished; now, he was lying on a three-meter-square wooden board, looking at only the boundless blue.
"Is there anyone?" His voice was swallowed by the sea breeze.
There was only a fishhook, an empty bottle, and a yellowed note on the raft: "Collect resources and work hard to survive."
On the first day, he caught a small fish, and the fishy smell of eating it raw made him vomit.
The next day, he made a simple fishhook using fish bones and began to learn about the laws of tides.
On the third day, the scorching sun drained him of the last drop of water. When his consciousness was blurred, strange images flooded into his mind - the smell of leather and steel, the sand and dust of the training ground, the unfamiliar young man's face in the bronze mirror, the youthfulness and deliberate composure between his brows.
"Master Samuel, the Marquis requires you to report on the progress of the formation of the patrol team in one hour." The voice of the servant came from behind.
Lin Zhou was horrified to discover that he could perceive two worlds at the same time: his cracked lips and the tight corners of the young man's mouth in the mirror; his rough hands and the thin calluses worn by the young man holding the sword.
He - or rather they - have two bodies, but they are at the two poles of the ocean world: a survivor struggling on the edge of life and death, and the second son of a nobleman seeking to survive in intrigues.
In this cruel ocean, is this dual identity a curse of separation or the only hope for survival?
