Chapter 53

Upon returning to the Captain’s Cabin, the captain immediately shattered the image he had left with the crew of being a tyrant who doted excessively on the Navigator. He very roughly threw Miguel onto the soft sofa, and the latter lay face down, grimacing in pain.

“Stop baring your big white teeth like an idiot,” the man said with a scowl, his long legs straddling the armchair beside the sofa. “You look like a girl.”

“So, in your eyes, those who pissed all over the deck are the real men?” the Navigator retorted indignantly. “Laozi gritted his teeth and endured your devilish twenty-five lashes without a single sound!”

“Devilish?” the man chuckled, a teasing curve forming at the corner of his lips. He tilted his head slightly to look at Miguel, making the latter’s hair stand on end. Then he said nonchalantly, “Did I kill you?”

Miguel: “No.”

“So, I went easy on you.”

The captain said this with a straight face.

“…”

The previously defiant Navigator fell silent instantly.

Miguel, living up to expectations, blushed with a face thicker than a city wall—Caesar’s casual “I went easy on you” sounded to Miguel’s ears no different from “Yeah, I kinda like you too.” With his buttocks torn and bloodied, the Navigator was moved to tears, his heart filled with thoughts of “Big Dog is still the best,” completely unaware that his focus had already veered off into the wilderness.

…He also forgot that the blood dripping down his waist at this very moment was all courtesy of someone who claimed to have “gone easy” on him.

The sight of those black, sincere dog eyes, blinking happily as if they were about to say “thank you,” made the captain feel uneasy. He paused, cleared his throat, and stood up from the chair. He walked over to the medicine cabinet in his cabin, rummaged through it, and finally picked out a few bottles and jars.

Holding the bottles in one hand, Caesar walked back to the sofa. He leaned over to examine Miguel’s back and clicked his tongue twice before sitting back down. “Just superficial wounds. It seems I’m more skilled with the whip than I thought.”

Miguel: What? Did you just say you love me more than you thought? ( ⊙ o ⊙ )?

Caesar: “Why are you looking so excited?”

Miguel: “Hehe.”

“…Normally, twenty-five lashes with a cat o’ nine tails should be enough to expose the bone,” Caesar leaned closer to Miguel’s back, sniffing like a dog and satisfied with the strong scent of blood. “But it’s just superficial wounds. You’ll be back on your feet in seven days.”

Miguel: “Hehe.”

“Do you want me to drag you back and give you another beating? You’re the first person in history who dares to grin like an idiot at me after being whipped.”

Reaching out to pat the black-haired young man’s forehead, the captain pulled out a pair of tweezers from who-knows-where. He patiently sterilized the tweezers over the candle flame, then paused before reaching out to peel away the clothing stuck to Miguel’s bloodied back—the red-hot tweezers accidentally touched Miguel’s skin, causing the latter to yelp and instinctively try to jump up—

Then, with a sickening squelch, accompanied by the smell of burning flesh, the tweezers plunged into the already mangled wound.

“What are you jerking around for?” the captain raised an eyebrow, playing the victim.

Miguel was in so much pain he couldn’t utter a word. If he could, he was sure he would have cursed Big Dog to hell and back, even if it meant losing next month’s salary. At this moment, the black-haired young man’s brows were tightly furrowed. The relaxed environment had lowered his pain tolerance to that of a normal person, and large beads of sweat dripped from his temples, soaking the soft cushions of the sofa beneath him.

Big Dog, while your intention to personally take care of me is truly touching…

My body really can’t handle this heavy love!

“If you don’t know how… then move aside,” Miguel trembled, his vision blurring from the pain. “Let… let a professional handle it.”

“Ah, Bakir’s busy,” Caesar said expressionlessly. “There are quite a few people being punished today, and some of those injured yesterday are still lying in the infirmary. How can you trouble him?”

I can trouble him! Give me a chance, I really can!

Miguel’s lips twitched, but before he could say anything, his head was roughly pushed back into the sofa—

“Stop moving, I’m going to pull it out now.”

The man’s deep voice sounded overhead. The next second, before Miguel could resist, another wave of intense pain surged through him as he clearly felt the tweezers being pulled out of his flesh—

Tears of pain welled up.

“Does it hurt?”

“Why don’t you try it?”

“Pain is inevitable.”

“…”

“Remember this pain, and learn from it,” Caesar said calmly, peeling off a piece of fabric stuck to Miguel’s flesh and tossing it to the floor. The once fair skin was now a bloody mess, but the man seemed unfazed, his hands steady as he worked. “If you don’t want to be whipped again, there are two secrets. Want to hear them?”

“…” Screw your damn secrets.

“Secret one, kill me, take my place, become the captain, and no one will dare to whip you again,” Caesar sneered. “But I suggest you give up on that idea.”

“…” Can you at least offer a secret with some sincerity?

“Secret two, obey me. When I give an order, just say ‘Aye, Captain,’ and nothing else,” Caesar paused, glancing at the sapphire ring on Miguel’s hand. “If I tell you to throw something away, throw it away immediately.”

“…Why does this sound like a cult?” Miguel said.

“What did you say?” the captain didn’t even look up. “In front of me, you can use English, Arabic, German, French, or Spanish. Don’t try to speak languages I don’t understand.”

“…”

“Did you hear me?”

“…Yeah.”

“Hmm?”

“Aye, Captain.”

For the rest of the back treatment, Caesar seemed to be demonstrating just how bad he was at taking care of someone. Before the medicine could even be applied, Miguel passed out from the pain as Caesar was still picking fabric fragments out of the mangled flesh. Before he fainted, Caesar had stabbed the tweezers into his wound three times—the first time, he scolded Miguel for moving; the second time, he claimed he saw something dirty in the wound; the third time, he said the ship had rocked violently.

This made Miguel feel like… Big Dog had carried him back just to continue a different form of private punishment.

Miguel didn’t know how long he slept.

In any case, he had another dream.

This time, it wasn’t a wet dream. He dreamed of his parents and his mischievous little brother.

In the dream, it was Chinese New Year. His grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins were all gathered around the not-so-large dining table at home. The table was laden with chicken, duck, fish, and meat—all cooked. The fish was freshwater fish, the fruits didn’t taste like rust, and the drinks in the cups were normal cola, not mixed with strange carrots or bizarre spices. At the table, Miguel and his little brother were scrambling with their bowls to snatch the last duck leg from their grandfather’s chopsticks. On the TV, the Spring Festival Gala, which people loved to criticize but still watched every year, was playing. At that moment, former first lady Song Zuying had just finished singing Flying Song For Mother Earth, and Zhao Benshan was walking onto the stage, hands behind his back—

Holding a bowl with a chicken leg, Miguel darted to the TV amidst the scolding of his family. The phone rang, and outside, a blizzard was raging. Amidst the sound of fireworks and firecrackers, Miguel grabbed the phone with his greasy hand and answered with a smile, “Hello? Happy New Year, Professor.” With his other hand, he absentmindedly grabbed a piece of cut fruit from the table and popped it into his mouth—

It was a slice of lemon.

Then, Miguel woke up with a start from the sourness.

The firecrackers were gone, the Spring Festival Gala was gone, and the only thing resembling meat in his vicinity was probably the fragments of his own flesh scattered on the floor… It wasn’t snowing outside, but there was a storm. The sky had long since darkened, and the howling wind outside sounded like the wails of demons. The ship rocked violently, and in the distance, the clinking of glasses could be heard. The kerosene lamp hanging in the center of the room swayed, casting flickering shadows.

At the desk not far away, under the warm orange light, the tall man seemed to hear the movement and glanced up at him before lowering his head again expressionlessly to continue examining the thing spread out on the desk—probably a map.

“Awake?”

“Yeah.”

“If you don’t want your dog legs broken, don’t spit out the lemon in your mouth. It’s for scurvy.”

“Yeah.”

Miguel lay on the sofa, propping his head up slightly as he watched Caesar working under the dim light.

…Hmm, a man looks especially handsome when he’s focused on his work.

The black-haired young man sighed, trying to shift his position, but accidentally tugged at the wound on his back and had to lie back down, grimacing in pain.

…

In truth, the moment he woke up, Miguel had to admit that he felt extremely disappointed. For a moment, he wished he could grab a torch, burn everything in front of him to ashes, and then jump into the sea to end it all—maybe then he’d transmigrate back. Back to 2012 China, where he was still Luo Chenzhou, a fearless student at SHI University.

But…

When the particularly handsome canine creature not far away glanced up at him, those calm amber eyes instantly vanquished the little demon of madness in Luo Chenzhou’s heart.

Now, lying on the sofa, he felt exceptionally peaceful and grounded.

Suddenly, he could believe in love again. Suddenly, he felt that when tomorrow dawned, the sun would still rise.