Chen Hao's hand was still suspended in mid-air, about to give an order, when the console screen suddenly went black.

He paused, thinking he was seeing things, and leaned closer to take a look. Complete darkness. Not the flickering of a signal interruption, but a deathly silence, like a power outage. Yet the power indicator light was still on.

"Nana?" He patted the panel twice. "Is this thing exhausted?"

Nana was already standing in front of the control panel, her finger lightly tapping the edge of the screen. "Main system unresponsive, offline mode initiating." She paused, "Positioning module malfunction, compass data corrupted."

Carl walked over from the sail, wiping the sweat from his face. "What do you mean? Are we just driving recklessly?"

"Almost." Chen Hao leaned against the helm and looked up at the sky. The clouds had mostly dispersed, and the evening light shone obliquely, shimmering the sea with pale golden ripples.

Susan crouched in the corner of the deck, clutching the map in her hand, her fingertips lingering on the spot she had just marked. "We were here six hours ago," she said, "and now...who knows."

No one responded.

The wind wasn't strong, and the boat wasn't rocking too much, but no one felt safe at the moment. Before, no matter how dilapidated or old the boat was, at least they knew which way to go. Now, they had no direction at all, like they had been thrown into a maze with no exit.

Carl sat down against the mast and rubbed the back of his neck. "Why do I feel like we've been going in circles? The dry rations I ate this morning are still churning in my stomach."

“You’re seasick,” Chen Hao said. “It’s not going in circles.”

“What if we really do go back?” Carl stared at the water. “The storm has been blowing for so long, maybe it will just sweep us back in a circle.”

Susan frowned: "The circulation zone isn't marked on the map."

“The map doesn’t move,” Carl muttered. “It has no idea how badly we’ve been battered by the waves.”

Nana suddenly looked up, her blue eyes flashing twice. "I can rebuild the course."

Everyone looked at her.

"We use starlight, ocean currents, wind direction, and the trajectory of floating objects, combined with known sailing time and speed, to make calculations," she said. "The accuracy is not as high as electronic positioning, but it can narrow down the search area."

"Something is better than nothing." Chen Hao flexed his wrist; it was wrapped tightly in white cloth, but it hurt with every movement. "Then tell me first, where is north?"

"At dusk, Polaris was observed to be appearing, with an azimuth deviation of less than seven degrees." Nana raised her hand, her fingertips tracing the air, projecting a blurry star map. "The currently visible constellations conform to the characteristics of the 21 degrees North latitude region."

"So, we haven't gone too far astray?" Susan asked.

“It’s not certain,” Nana said. “The ocean currents are still being adjusted due to the remnants of the storm, and the surface currents are not in the same direction as the deep currents.”

Carl sighed: "So it's still just guessing."

“It’s not a guess,” Chen Hao stood up. “It’s a jigsaw puzzle. Piece by piece.”

He walked to the ship's side and looked up at the sky. "I remember memorizing a line when I was a child: if you extend the line connecting the seven points of the Big Dipper five times, you can find Polaris. Although I did it to prepare for an exam, I forgot it as soon as the exam was over."

Susan smiled slightly: "You actually remember?"

"I just remembered today." He shrugged. "Bad luck, I can only rely on last-minute cramming."

The atmosphere relaxed a bit.

Nana began assigning tasks. "Susan is responsible for recording changes in wind direction every ten minutes. Carl will observe the movement of floating objects on the sea surface. Chen Hao will assist me in checking the star positions and time."

"What am I going to do?" Carl asked.

"You have the sharpest eyes, look for anything floating downstream," Chen Hao said. "Like leaves, algae, or trash, anything that can be carried away by the current."

Carl rolled his eyes, but still got up and walked to the stern. "If I find a plastic bottle, can I apply to be captain?"

"We'll talk about it once we find canned goods," Chen Hao retorted.

Susan took out her notebook, tore off a blank page, folded it into a small weather vane, and stuck it in a crevice in the deck. A breeze blew, and the paper swayed gently; she noted the angle.

Carl peered over the edge of the boat for a long time, then suddenly shouted, "Over there!"

Everyone looked in the direction he pointed, and saw a small patch of dark green algae floating on the water, shaped somewhat like an open palm, sliding forward with the gentle waves.

"Have we met before?" Chen Hao asked.

“I’ve never seen it before.” Susan shook her head. “The color is too dark, and there shouldn’t be this kind of planktonic creature in this area.”

Nana retrieved images from the database for comparison. "A symbiotic algae species was matched, which only appears in specific warm current zones south of the equator and typically spreads over distances of no more than two hundred nautical miles."

“So that means,” Chen Hao stroked his chin, “we might have been swayed by the residual current and drifted south for a while?”

“The probability is over 64 percent,” Nana said.

“Plus the wind direction.” Susan flipped through the records. “For the past three hours, the wind has been consistently from the northwest, with a stable thrust.”

"What about the stars?" Chen Hao asked.

“Based on the tilt angle of the three stars of Orion’s Belt, the local time should be two hours and seventeen minutes after sunset,” Nana said. “The difference from our set navigation clock is within the allowable error range.”

"So, to sum it all up—" Chen Hao straightened up, "we did veer off course, but we didn't drift aimlessly. The main problem was that the wind and current were pulling the boat south, and we didn't notice it in time."

"Revised plan: sail 15 degrees northeast," Nana said. "It is expected that we can reconnect to the preset route in 30 minutes."

“Then change direction.” Chen Hao walked to the helm. “Karl, help check the rigging tension.”

"More work?" Carl muttered as he walked over. "The robot's calculations are so accurate, why don't we let it steer itself?"

“She’s afraid of water,” Chen Hao said with a smile. “Last time she said there was a high risk of electric shock, and she was so scared that she didn’t even dare to step on the deck for long.”

Nana didn't refute, but her eyes flashed with blue light.

The ship slowly turned.

The wind blew in from the right front, the sails picked up momentum, and the boat gradually gained speed. The sea remained calm, with only slight undulations.

Susan closed her notebook and put it in her waterproof bag. She leaned against the mast and closed her eyes for a moment. The sun had completely set, the sky had turned deep blue, and the stars began to twinkle one by one.

Carl sat on the deck, munching on dry rations while staring at the water. "Do you think that patch of algae might have been thrown down there?"

"Who would throw algae into this place?" Chen Hao gripped the helm, his gaze sweeping across the sea ahead.

“I mean, is it possible that it washed ashore near some island?” Karl swallowed. “After all, this thing isn’t native.”

“If there were an island, the radar would have detected it long ago,” Nana said.

“Unless the radar is faulty in more than one place,” Carl insisted, “or the island is too small to be entered into the database.”

No one spoke.

This possibility has always existed, but none of them have mentioned it. Islands that are too small wouldn't appear on standard navigational charts, and storms could easily sweep debris to unfamiliar locations. If such an island did exist, they might be among the first to see it.

They might have been among the first to crash into it.

"Don't think too much about it now," Chen Hao broke the silence. "The most important thing right now is to keep our course stable. Whether we have an island or not, we'll talk about it when it gets light."

He glanced down at the simple timer on his wrist. Thirty minutes were almost up.

"Nana, how much is the deviation now?"

"The current course has deviated from the planned route to a manageable level," she said. "It is recommended to continue along this direction."

Chen Hao breathed a sigh of relief; his palms were sweaty.

Susan opened her eyes and looked ahead. "The stars shone on the water, like a path being paved."

“It’s pretty romantic,” Carl yawned. “It’s just that after walking this road, you don’t know if you’ll be going home or to your grave.”

"Can't you say something auspicious?" Chen Hao turned and glared at him.

“To be honest,” Carl grinned, “our ship has been repaired and patched up so much that even if cockroaches moved in, we’d have to worry about the ceiling collapsing.”

“But it’s still moving.” Chen Hao patted the rudder. “As long as it can still move, it’s not over.”

Nana stood in the center of the ship, the blue light flashing steadily. She was updating the navigation data in real time; the system load was still high, but the operation was smooth.

Susan tied the waterproof bag tightly and stuffed it into the lining. She looked up at the star map, then gazed ahead.

After checking the sail ropes, Carl sat back down. He took out the last compressed biscuit, broke it in half, kept one half, and stuffed the other half into his mouth.

Chen Hao didn't say anything more, his hands firmly gripping the rudder.

The ship continued on its corrected course, with waves gently lapping against its hull.

In the distance, a shooting star streaked across the night sky and plunged into the sea without a sound.