“Why do I feel my head getting worse? My whole body’s floating, and I can barely walk without holding onto something. How about you lot?” one pirate asked, vigorously shaking his dizzy head as he looked at the others.
“Same here. The dizziness is getting worse, and the world’s spinning faster. I can’t take it—I can’t stand up anymore,” another replied.
“Me too. It’s getting unbearable, and I can hardly breathe. Are we done for?!” another added, their symptoms worsening, sparking worry among them.
“Quick, check on the boss and that samurai from the islands. We’re all like this—how come they’re not reacting? Still sleeping?” Finally, someone remembered the two others in the room and urged the group to check on them.
“Boss, boss…” one pirate called out to Maye, shouting repeatedly, but got no response.
Taking a closer look, he blurted, “Bloody hell!”
Maye’s face was flushed red, his mouth twitching occasionally as if in a trance, his hands and feet trembling slightly.
“Boss, boss, wake up, wake up…” The pirates panicked, some slapping his face, others pinching his philtrum.
But no matter what they tried, Maye didn’t wake. One pirate touched Maye’s forehead and exclaimed, “My God, the boss’s head is burning hot!” The others quickly felt it too, confirming it was scalding.
“Give the boss some water. Look, his lips are so dry they’re peeling,” one pirate said, noticing Maye’s cracked lips. He grabbed the broken clay pot, filled it with water, and prepared to pour it into Maye’s mouth.
“Are you daft? We got sick probably because of the well water. Giving him more water is like piling poison on poison!” another pirate snapped, knocking the pot away before it reached Maye’s lips.
“Forgot, my head’s all foggy,” the first pirate said, shaking his groggy head, belatedly realising his mistake. “But the boss is burning up like this—what do we do?”
“What can we do? We’re all sick, barely able to save ourselves, and this is the middle of nowhere with no doctor…”
“If we weren’t sick, we could’ve gone to a nearby village and nabbed an old doctor. But we’re all spinning, floating, and weak as kittens. We can’t even walk straight, let alone kidnap anyone. We’d be lucky not to get nabbed ourselves. All we can do now is tough it out. It’s just dirty well water. If it was that poisonous, this village wouldn’t just be abandoned—it’d be a ghost town with white mourning banners on every house. We’re all strong lads; we’ll probably pull through.”
“Then we’ll wait until night and see how things are,” they concluded, having no other options but to endure and wait.
“Check on that samurai,” one said, remembering the other man. They hurried to look.
“Wake up, wake up—bloody hell, he’s foaming at the mouth! Christ, he’s in worse shape than the boss!”
There was nothing they could do for the samurai, who was in an even worse state. With no medicine, no doctor, and no medical knowledge, the pirates were helpless. All they could do was wait and hope he pulled through.
The wait was agonisingly long.
The pirates grew increasingly dizzy and disoriented. One vomited again, and their bodies grew weaker.
“Why does it feel like the more we endure, the worse it gets? How about you lot?” one pirate asked, leaning against the wall, feeling his condition deteriorate.
“Same here. Just now, I swear I saw my great-grandma. She was pointing and cursing me for being a pirate, saying I’d shamed the ancestors and wouldn’t be let into the family grave… Ha, made me laugh. Let me into the family grave? I wouldn’t go anyway. Eighteen generations back, they were all dirt-poor. I’ve been wanting to be reborn into a better family for ages,” another pirate said, his face deathly pale, shaking his head weakly.
“No idea how much longer I can hold on…”
“It’s bloody awful…”
The other two pirates were also suffering, enduring excruciating discomfort, utterly exhausted.
As the sun neared setting, one pirate noticed with surprise that his head wasn’t as dizzy anymore. The world stopped spinning, and though he was still weak, he could feel himself improving.
“How are you lot? I think I’m getting better. The world’s not spinning anymore,” he said excitedly.
“You know, I think I’m improving a bit too,” another responded immediately.
“Not much for me,” one said.
“Urgh, *cough cough*, I think I’m getting worse,” the last one said, visibly weaker.
“The sun’s almost down. Check on the boss and the samurai,” someone said. The pirates hurried to the grass pile to check on Maye and the samurai.
They were shocked by what they saw. The samurai was barely breathing, more out than in.
As for Maye, he was delirious with fever, mumbling incoherently. His expression shifted from fear to anger to a foolish grin as if he were about to be crowned emperor—a clear sign he was critically ill.
“It’s almost dark. The two of us who are improving should chop some branches and vines to make a stretcher to carry the boss back to the Tuolin stronghold,” one of the recovering pirates suggested.
The other recovering pirate, Maye’s most trusted man, closed his eyes as if making a difficult decision.
“What’re you thinking about? It’s nearly dark. Don’t you want to get back to Tuolin as soon as possible?” the first pirate urged.
“Mate, come here, let’s have a word,” the trusted pirate said, beckoning him outside.
“What’s this about? It’s almost dark, and you’re acting odd,” the other grumbled, following him outside.
“Do you think the boss can hold on until we get back to Tuolin?” the trusted pirate asked quietly, staring intently at the other.
“The boss is in bad shape, but he should make it to Tuolin, shouldn’t he? …You’re up to something. What’re you getting at?” the other replied, not foolish, his eyes narrowing as he stared back.
“What if the boss doesn’t make it to Tuolin? You think Boss Xu Hai won’t hold us accountable? The boss got like this because of the wild greens and wood ear soup *we* made,” the trusted pirate countered.
The other pirate, his face paling, protested, “We didn’t know the well water was bad! It wasn’t on purpose. Besides, the boss should be fine for now and make it to Tuolin.”
“Even if the boss makes it to Tuolin, and even if we’re not blamed for the soup, what then? When will the boss recover? With those half-baked doctors we’ve got in the stronghold—whose skills are shoddier than a bout of diarrhoea, curing only half of minor ailments—can they fix the boss? We’re pirates, not some bunch of do-gooders who respect the old and love the young. If the boss doesn’t recover quickly, he’ll lose his grip on power. Boss Xu Hai won’t miss the chance to take full control. If the boss falls, we, his loyal men, won’t fare well either!” the trusted pirate said, his gaze piercing as he spoke slowly.
“What exactly are you trying to say?” the other pirate asked, squinting.
“Every man for himself, or heaven and earth will strike you down. It’s time we started thinking about our own way out,” the trusted pirate said darkly.
