NOVEL NEXT Feng Mui,The Matchmaker
The ship's wooden floor creaked under Ling Xuan's boots as he followed a crew member down a narrow corridor. The sound of waves crashing against the hull and the faint cries of crows filled the air, mingling with the smell of salt and tar. The vessel swayed gently with the rhythm of the sea, creating a sense of constant motion.
The ship's interior was dimly lit by small, flickering oil lamps mounted on the walls. Shadows danced across the wooden planks, adding to the ship's rustic charm. The corridor was lined with various doors, each leading to different cabins, storerooms, or crew quarters. The sound of distant voices and the clatter of cargo being loaded added to the bustling atmosphere.
“Sir, this is your residence,” the crew member said, stopping in front of a sturdy wooden door. His voice was respectful but tinged with a hint of weariness, likely from the constant work of preparing the ship for departure.
Ling Xuan nodded, appreciating the crew member's professionalism. He opened the door and stepped inside, taking in his new quarters. The cabin was small but well-maintained, with a single porthole offering a view of the ocean beyond. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a golden glow on the room's modest furnishings.
A narrow bed was pushed against one wall, covered with a simple but clean blanket. A wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed, presumably for storing personal belongings. A small writing desk with a chair occupied the opposite corner, complete with an inkpot and quill for any notes or correspondence Ling Xuan might need to write during the journey.
“Now, what do I do?” Ling Xuan muttered to himself, feeling a mix of anticipation and boredom. Although he knew the journey to the Shambala Archipelago would be a long one, it didn’t mean he wasn’t already restless.
“I can initiate the informational program,” Urizen’s voice echoed in his mind, calm and composed.
“You can do that later,” Ling Xuan replied. “Let’s first check out this ship.” With that, he walked out of his cabin, ready to explore his new surroundings.
The corridor outside his cabin was bustling with activity. Crew members scurried about, their faces serious and focused on their tasks. The ship was a hive of organised chaos, with sailors hauling ropes, securing cargo, and preparing for the long voyage ahead. The air was filled with the scent of saltwater, wood, and a hint of fish from the day’s catch.
Ling Xuan made his way to the main deck, where the open sky and vast ocean greeted him. The deck was wide and spacious, lined with sturdy railings and dotted with various pieces of equipment. Large sails billowed in the wind, their white fabric contrasting sharply with the blue sky. The sound of the sails flapping and the creaking of the ship’s timbers created a symphony of maritime life.
He moved towards the bow, passing by a group of sailors hoisting a large net filled with provisions. The sailors nodded respectfully as he passed, acknowledging his presence. Ling Xuan returned their nods, appreciating their hard work and dedication. He stopped at the railing, gazing out at the horizon where the sky met the sea in a seamless blend of blue. The sight was mesmerising, a reminder of the vastness of the world and the adventures that awaited him.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice came from behind him. Ling Xuan turned to see an old man beside him, dressed in vibrant red robes. His long, silver beard flowed gracefully, and his eyes sparkled with a fascination at the sea.
“Indeed,” Ling Xuan answered, nodding politely.
“Shambala is a place the normal don’t go to, much less a young man like you,” the old man remarked, leaning on the ship's railing.
“I have my reasons,” Ling Xuan replied, keeping his tone neutral.
The old man smiled, his gaze distant as if reminiscing. “My future or my destiny, you could say, is no longer on the mainland. I can’t live a single day without having to worry about someone being out for me.”
“Why?” Ling Xuan asked, genuinely curious now.
“You should know what matchmakers are, right?” The old man’s smile broadened, revealing a hint of mystery.
“Individuals who select couples for marriage or something along those lines?” Ling Xuan guessed.
“Indeed,” the old man confirmed. “We matchmakers glance into an individual's strings of fate and destiny and then decide who is compatible with them.”
Ling Xuan raised an eyebrow, scepticism clear in his expression. For the sake of conversation, he continued, “Did it ever backfire?”
“Oh, yes,” the old man chuckled. “It happened quite a number of times, but the most horrendous was when the individual whose strings I glanced at were...something else entirely.”
“Something else?” Ling Xuan leaned in, intrigued despite himself.
“That being’s strings, unlike the usual trope of having only a single colour, were shifting their colour constantly. Its literal future was changing every second,” the old man explained, his eyes widening as he recounted the experience.
“What did you do then?” Ling Xuan’s voice was low, carrying a mix of curiosity and dread.
“What could I even do?” The old man sighed deeply, his eyes clouded with the weight of the past. “That being belonged to an incredibly powerful family. I had to give a result, and ‘no’ was not an option. So, I did just that. Instead of seeing his fate, I looked at his present and used it to make a judgement.”
“How did it go?” Ling Xuan asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Well, if it had gone well, I wouldn’t be planning to leave the continent now, would I?” The old man chuckled bitterly. “That being, although in the first few months had an amicable relationship with his significant other to the point of having a child, one day he suddenly went mad and slaughtered all his siblings, leaving only his youngest brother alive.”
The horror of the story hung in the air, the gentle sway of the ship doing little to dispel the tension. Ling Xuan could almost see the bloodshed, the madness etched on the face of the once-loving father and husband.
“What about his child and wife?” Ling Xuan's voice held a mix of shock and intrigue.
“The wife knew she wouldn’t be able to escape his madness, so she entrusted her daughter to one of the sects. As for her fate? It remains unknown what happened to her. Perhaps she met a tragic end, or maybe she found a way to survive in the shadows,” He explained, his tone sombre. The old man's eyes grew distant, as if replaying the tragic events in his mind.
"After that event," the old man continued, his voice tinged with bitterness and sorrow, "the remaining family members wanted to execute me to vent their anger. They saw me as the one who had doomed their lineage, the bringer of catastrophe. Yet, the father of that madman stopped them. He knew that I was not responsible for his son's madness and thus let me leave. But the damage had been done."