Going to Crescent Island? At the pier, the dark-skinned old fisherman looked at him like a monster. "That damn place is far away. There's nothing to see. There are only trees and rocks. Boats don't like to go there." In the end, he paid three times the usual price to persuade an old fishing boat to take him there. The boat owner was a taciturn middle-aged man. When he got on the boat, he only muttered: "It's easy to go up, but it's not so easy to come back. I'll come back here in three days to make a circle, just a circle. It's up to you."
The engine roared, cutting through the dark green water. The further away from the shore, the bluer and bumpier the water becomes. Shen Chuan huddled in the small cabin, enduring the smell of diesel and dizziness. About two or three hours later, in the distance, an arc-shaped dark green shadow appeared on the horizon.
"It's right there." The boat owner pointed, parked the boat in the shallow water some distance away from the shore, and lowered a small sampan. "We can only go here. The water in front is shallow and there are many rocks, so a big boat can't get through. You can row across by yourself." He pointed to Shen Chuan's huge backpack, "Do you really want to go up?"
