Last year, the developer’s son insisted on taking his yacht out during storm season. Half an hour later, he was gone. The yacht was caught right in the eye of the storm. Professional rescue teams couldn’t even get close. Only I knew how to navigate that old fishing boat. I didn’t hesitate. I steered the boat straight into the tempest and pulled him back to shore. But the moment he stepped off, he pointed a finger and cursed me, claiming I, a woman, had steered the boat so erratically that his limited-edition jacket got torn. He demanded I pay him thirty thousand. I confronted the developer, but he merely sized me up, cold and dismissive, telling me I had to take responsibility for my mistakes. This year, his son got into trouble again, in the very same stretch of sea. This time, the developer was literally begging, practically knocking his head on the ground, just for me to save his son’s life. 1 On South Bay Pier, I was patching the last tear in my fishing net. A commotion erupted behind me. Old Man Gunther, the village elder, rushed over, his face etched with worry: “Quick, everyone! Mr. Davies’ yacht is trapped in the storm!” The pier was packed with people. Mr. Davies stood at the front, his face a thundercloud. “What good are these rescue teams? Why aren’t they out there saving my son?” Old Man Gunther hastily waved his hands. “The rescue team says the water in that reef area is too shallow, big ships can’t get in!” A hush fell over the crowd. Then, Old Man Gunther suddenly looked at me, as if he’d found salvation. “Penny, you’re the only one in our village who can handle those old fishing boats. You’re the only one who can save Mr. Davies’ son.” Dark clouds churned ominously across the sky. But a life was on the line. “Alright, I’m going.” I jumped onto the old fishing boat my dad left me and fired up the engine. The storm was fiercer than I’d imagined. Several rogue waves crashed over me, drenching me to the bone, and leaving my arms with several stinging cuts. Half an hour later, I finally spotted the stranded yacht. Lucas Davies lay slumped on the deck, trembling uncontrollably. “Jump over!” I yelled at him. But he hesitated, and another wave slapped against the yacht, sending him cowering back onto the deck. “Jump, now! The waves are getting bigger!” The waves grew more violent, tossing the old fishing boat wildly on their crests. If I wasted any more time, not only would I fail to save him, I wouldn’t make it back myself. Finally, he moved. Lucas scrambled over the yacht railing, closing his eyes as he jumped. The moment his feet touched the boat’s edge, a wave struck, throwing him backward. Just as he was about to tumble into the sea, I grabbed his collar and yanked him up with all my might. I dragged and threw him onto my deck. He lay there, lips ashen, scared out of his wits. As I turned the boat around, I tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I’ve sailed this route for over twenty years. I’ll get you back safe.” The return journey was even more perilous than the trip out. The storm raged, and the waves swelled higher and higher. The cuts on my arm burned like hell from the saltwater, making me feel like my whole arm was about to snap off. But I couldn’t stop. After what felt like an eternity, just before the full force of the storm hit, we finally reached the shallows. I collapsed onto the boat, my entire body aching, bones feeling dislocated, blood dripping from my arm. The shore was in chaos. A few villagers helped Lucas off the boat. Old Man Gunther wrapped him in a towel and handed him a mug of hot water. Mr. Davies also embraced his son, his face filled with relief and concern. No one looked at me. Not even a "thank you." I leaned against the helm, catching my breath for a couple of minutes, before getting ready to head home. A voice from behind stopped me. “Wait a minute!” Lucas, wrapped in a clean towel, strode over. He tossed his dripping wet jacket at me. “This jacket? Limited edition. Three thousand bucks!” I stared at the torn jacket on the deck, my mind blank. “What do you mean?” “Don’t play dumb, you witch! You’re the one who ripped my jacket. Aren’t you going to pay for it?” “And you drive like a maniac! Couldn’t you keep the boat steady? Waves splashed all over me!” I froze. It took a few seconds for it to click. When he jumped, he nearly fell into the sea. I’d grabbed his collar to pull him up, and that’s probably how his jacket got torn. I looked at him, then at my arm, still bleeding. “I just saved your life, and you want me to pay for your jacket?” He puffed out his chest. “A life is a life, a jacket is a jacket!” “You damaged my property, you have to pay! My dad says no one gets a free pass!” I turned to Mr. Davies. I thought he’d say something. After all, I had just risked my life, diving into the storm to pull his son from the sea. Any father would value his son’s life more than a tattered jacket, right? But his reaction completely blindsided me. He glanced at Lucas, a flicker of approval in his eyes. As if to say: Good boy, standing up for your rights. Then he turned to me, his voice flat. “You made a mistake, you have to take responsibility. You damaged the jacket, so you must pay!” I suppressed my anger, staring at Mr. Davies. “Why should I pay? I saved your son’s life!” Mr. Davies sneered. “Who asked you to save him? The rescue team was almost there. People like you, always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, just looking for an excuse to cozy up to us, right?” Lucas jumped up, glaring at me. “Exactly! You’re just a boat driver, trying to show off in front of me, hoping to climb the social ladder? Dream on!” I was stunned by his sheer arrogance and shamelessness. I looked at my fellow villagers, hoping they’d speak up for me. But they stood with Mr. Davies and his idiotic son. “This girl is so clueless. Mr. Davies is investing fifty million in our village. Why argue with him?” “Yeah, you damage something, you pay for it. Mr. Davies is right.” “Mr. Davies is a big shot, he treats everyone equally.” Listening to their familiar accents, seeing their familiar faces, I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. Fifty million? This Mr. Davies had promised to invest fifty million dollars in North Reef Village for tourism development. Yet, he hadn’t invested a dime, instead staying here for three months, freeloading and sweet-talking. The villagers dared not offend him, fearing their cash cow would bolt. They practically licked his boots, eager to please. Old Man Gunther, seeing the stalemate, tried to smooth things over. “Penny, just apologize, and this whole thing will blow over. It’s not about the money for Mr. Davies; he just wants an explanation.” An explanation. I saved his son’s life, and he wanted an “explanation” for me tearing his son’s jacket. I smiled. I looked at them and slowly spoke. “Alright, I’ll pay.” Back home, I simply bandaged the wound on my arm. Then I sat in the yard, looking at the old fishing boat docked by the shore. I decided to sell it. Not because I was short on three thousand. On the contrary, my grandparents and parents had accumulated quite a bit of property, including a dozen shops in the adjacent bay. But I felt the boat was unlucky. My dad had gotten into trouble on that very boat. Now this. It felt like bad karma. I pulled out my phone and contacted a buyer in the next bay. He offered four thousand dollars, a thousand more than Lucas’s stupid jacket. The deal was done the same day, and the money was transferred to me in full. The next day, I went to Mr. Davies’ office. Lucas sat on the sofa, legs crossed. Seeing me enter, he grinned. “Well, well, did you actually scrounge up the money? You didn’t have to borrow it, did you?” I ignored him, placing the money on the table. “Receipt.” Mr. Davies had his accountant issue a receipt, which read “Jacket Damage Compensation.” I took it, folded it, put it in my pocket, and turned to leave. Lucas called after me, smirking. “Next time, don’t be so eager to climb the ladder, and try to steer the boat a bit steadier.” The next day, I packed my things, ready to leave North Reef Village. I had a house and shops in the next bay, a place to settle down and shake off the bad luck. As I stepped out of the gate, I ran into Old Man Gunther. He looked surprised. “Penny, are you leaving?” I nodded. He frowned. “Isn’t the Mr. Davies business over? Besides, what’s a young woman like you going to do running off so far?” “I’m not running. My family property is still here. I’m just going to check out the next bay.” Old Man Gunther waved his hand. “Mr. Davies invested fifty million in our village. Falling out with him won’t do anyone any good.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Old Man Gunther, has the fifty million arrived yet?” He stammered. “Soon, it’s going through the process…” I said nothing more, pulling my luggage and walking out. Just as I reached the village entrance, Mr. Davies’ car pulled up. The window rolled down, and Lucas poked his head out. “Oh, leaving already? Just because you had to pay three thousand? Is that why you’re running away scared?” Mr. Davies also glanced at me, stating calmly. “Young lady, don’t be so impulsive. You grew up in the village, going out might not be as good as staying here.” Lucas added. “Exactly, a boat driver, what can you do out there? Waitress?” I stopped, looking at them. “Mr. Davies, take your time with that fifty million. I’m not waiting.” Lucas’s face changed. “What do you mean?” “Nothing much. You keep scamming and freeloading in North Reef Village. I’m going to live my life in the next bay. No one gets in anyone’s way.” Mr. Davies’ face darkened. I settled into the next bay, taking over a storefront to sell dried seafood. My dad’s old clients, hearing I’d opened a shop, were willing to give me a hand. Business wasn’t booming, but it was comfortable enough. I’d occasionally visit North Reef Village. The village was still the same—run-down, roads unpaved, school unrepaired, not a penny of investment visible. Old Man Gunther would always greet me with the same line. “Soon, soon. Big projects take time, it’s always like this.” I couldn’t be bothered to expose him. One time, I overheard some villagers chatting. “Heard Old Man Hughes’ girl opened a shop in the next bay, doing quite well.” “Pfft, just selling dried goods? How much can she really make?” “She ran off over three thousand dollars, so petty.” “Exactly, a big boss like Mr. Davies, would he really care about her three grand? She just insisted on making a fuss.” I walked past them. They instantly fell silent when they saw me. No one thought Lucas was wrong. No one thought Mr. Davies was a problem. In their eyes, I was just a boat girl, supposed to quietly pay up and shut my mouth. I ignored them. Life went on like this for another year. It was the same storm season again. Lucas arrived in North Reef Village with a few friends. “Last time was just bad luck. This time I bought a new yacht, Italian imported. What storm can it not handle?” Mr. Davies stood nearby, probably feeling his son was now capable enough to venture out. At noon, Lucas set sail. Less than half an hour later, the storm arrived early. Lucas’s yacht was once again trapped in the same stretch of sea. After the distress signal was sent, the rescue team arrived quickly. But large ships couldn't enter, and the rubber dinghies they launched were capsized by a single wave. Mr. Davies was sweating with anxiety. He seemed to remember something, frantically dialing numbers on his phone. Meanwhile, I was at home, taking a nap. Waking up, the numbers on my phone screen made me pause. Seventy-one missed calls, over a hundred text messages. Before I could even open them, my phone rang again.
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