Precious tals are a symbol of wealth, especially gold.
Its properties are stable, its quantity rare, and it cannot be synthesized chemically, all the while possessing a historical backdrop and dazzling luster.
In the East, it is the favored casting material of royal princes, a treasure bestowed upon ministers, and the most valuable currency in popular circulation.
In the West, it is the food of the gods in Ancient Greece, an offering made by the Divine Servant to the celestial deity, and the treasure hoarded by dragons.
Whether in the once-prosperous Ancient Egypt, or the ruins of the lost Mayan Civilization, or the mysterious and splendid excavation sites of the Ancient Shu Kingdom.
From five thousand years ago to modern tis, the glory of gold has never faded, making other jewels pale in comparison, its allure crossing East and West, making other tals blush.
Grabbing the Gold Coins from the drawer, letting them slip through his fingers, feeling their heavy weight and cold texture, Chen Zhou couldn’t help but fantasize about how to squander this wealth once he returned to modern tis.
For a few minutes, he indulged in the dream of being a "rich man," almost forgetting that it would be 28 years before these Gold Coins truly belonged to him.
But a dream is a dream, and it will inevitably end.
Chen Zhou was not a child; he had long passed the age of being unable to distinguish fantasy from reality.
After briefly playing with the Gold Coins, he eventually counted all the currency clearly and put them back into the cabinet.
The drawer slowly closed, and the pleasing gold contracted into a thin slit before disappearing.
Feeling an inexplicable emptiness inside, after hesitating for a mont, Chen Zhou pulled open the drawer again, selected a Gold Coin in the best condition, tucked it into his pocket, and then walked away.
As one of the highest-ranking sailors on the entire ship, even at sea, the owner’s life was still filled with the refinent and luxury unique to social elites.
His tableware was not only made of silver but also engraved with patterns, of varied types and in great numbers.
There were twelve silver tea cups alone, along with knives and forks, soupspoons, teaspoons, shallow dishes, and silver bowls, any two or three of which weighed more together than the block of pure silver in the kitchen’s large water barrel.
Seeing these tarnished silver utensils, Chen Zhou couldn’t help but think.
"If the owner disinfected unused tableware in the water barrel, the living standard for every sailor might improve significantly."
"But would he do that?"
Chen Zhou chuckled, recalling the factory bosses who loudly proclaid they’d spare no effort to seek benefits for everyone.
The youthful newcors to the factory were always stirred up by their slogans, only to gradually realize that they themselves were the "cost" the bosses referred to.
In the owner’s eyes, the continuously dying and replenished sailors might be another type of "cost," their health worth less than two silver tea cups.
Compared to them, the factory bosses who made empty promises seed almost conscientious.
However, in Chen Zhou’s mind, these silver tablewares, symbolizing status and rank, did not possess the value of luxury goods.
He preferred to use them as practical items to improve his quality of life.
After all, silverware doesn’t hold much value in modern society. Even antiques were more valued with Eastern backgrounds; these European crafts didn’t suit the local taste and wouldn’t fetch a good price if sold.
As for whether using them would devalue them through wear and tear, Chen Zhou didn’t care.
As he once thought, 28 years is a long ti, and compared to redundant food and impractical crafts, he preferred to obtain several bags of different seeds to diversify his diet.
Apart from the complete set of silver tableware, the room’s cabinets and shelves also contained canned tea leaves, bags of white bread, bottled wine, and large square glass bottles filled with clean drinking water.
Under the hammock pillow, Chen Zhou found a navigation journal.
The journal detailed the ship’s departure date, the latitude and longitude of docking supply points, bills for purchased supplies, sailors’ watch shifts, and the specific plans of the voyage.
From this, he deduced that the owner was most likely the First Mate.
As the captain is the master of the ship, most of the ti he only needed to be responsible for setting the overall direction, ensuring the smooth transportation of goods while managing the crew, and not needing to concern himself with details like haggling with rchants over the price of rum barrels or how much rivets and tar cost, those matters being the purview of the First Mate.
Also, the stern tower had two levels. The lower level, though larger overall, was divided into five rooms with narrow corridors and crowded with people.
Thinking from another perspective, if he were the captain, he would certainly choose to reside in the more spacious and better-viewed upper single room, which was convenient for steering and didn’t require squeezing in with the ship’s doctor or carpenter.
Of course, the lower stern wasn’t without its rits either.
For soone alone like Chen Zhou, the size of the room was aningless; rather, the ease of moving goods around was more important, which was where the lower level proved advantageous.
As for the view — the First Mate’s room had two large windows on each side. Although not as expansive in outlook as the upper level for observation, it was sufficient to see the sea surface and understand the patterns of the tides. On clear days, the lighting conditions were adequate, fully functional.
Thinking like this, Chen Zhou heard the pitter-patter of rain again outside the cabin.
Opening the window, he saw the clouds still struggling in a last stand, with rain as thin as ox hair drifting from the sky, unlikely to stop anyti soon.
In October, the central Pacific Ocean had short nights and long days, and even with the rain, it was a gray, bright sky.
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