Home Starting from Robinson Crusoe Chapter 602 - 7: Departure (2)

Starting from Robinson Crusoe

Chapter 602 - 7: Departure (2)
  • Prev Chapter
  • Next Chapter
  • Background
    Font family
    Font size
    Line hieght
    New Read mode
    Full frame
    No line breaks
    Translate & Text to Speech
    New Translate

Chapter 602: Chapter 7: Departure (2)

Half a lifetime of effort cannot be easily severed just by saying so.

As it comes to an end, what he worries most about is the fate of the island.

Can this "Paradise Island," which he influenced to become a world focus, continue to uphold its legend?

Will it become Heaven or Hell in the future?

Can the indigenous people in the primitive tribes truly change their destinies and step onto a different path?

Chen Zhou couldn’t figure it out, nor could he see that far.

In his heart, he didn’t hold an optimistic attitude towards the island’s prospects.

In the past two days, he has hardly slept, with the lamp in the study remaining lit throughout the night.

Chen Zhou documented his views on national development, his understanding of the world order, his emphasis on the people, and his predictions for the technological development path.

When he used to read "Romance of the Three Kingdoms," he often read:

"Before the ascension, a retreat was his thought; the accomplished should recall his departing words.

Because of the master’s careful instructions after the advance, the stars fell in the autumn wind at Wuzhangyuan," and he couldn’t help but shed tears.

Yet back then, despite lamenting the tragic end of Shu Han, he couldn’t truly empathize.

Today, seeing that the island might gradually slip into the abyss after he leaves, Chen Zhou understands how reluctant the Prime Minister was and how resigned and helpless he felt.

He wishes he could leave behind a thousand, ten thousand "secret strategies."

But no matter how many plans there are, they cannot decide the world’s order nor change outsiders’ covetous hearts towards the island.

Children will always grow up, build their own families, and rely on themselves to stand atop the world.

...

The aging Chen Zhou is almost burning with his heart’s blood, leaving behind a multitude of suggestions for dealing with different events.

These papers are neatly arranged on the desk, visible at a glance for those who come to tidy up after he leaves.

However, Chen Zhou hopes the island will never see the day these suggestions are needed, as that would mean the island has fallen into a perilous situation.

...

December 12, 1687.

On the sandy beach of the port, within the high-walled sand area, stood a dozen people.

These people, each with graying hair, were aged, among them even some hunched and leaning on crutches.

However, if outsiders were allowed here, they would be astonished—

Gathered within the high walls are the actual power figures of Paradise Island, officials whose mere stamp of the foot could shake half the ocean, individuals usually seen requiring connections and paths, their joint gathering is an extremely rare event.

At this moment, these people surrounded a square area marked by a long rope on the sand, each wearing an expression full of reluctance.

At their center, Chen Zhou had long since changed into the attire he wore for the challenge 28 years ago—

A white half sleeve, shorts, and sneakers.

Due to aging and bodily changes, even when he wore these clothes, he no longer resembled a youth, instead appearing awkward, like a clown acting in a comedic play.

Yet the people present, looking at this tall, slightly overweight figure, showed no trace of amusement on their faces.

...

Chen Zhou adjusted his expression, striving to appear like the young man who first landed on the island 28 years ago.

However, the deep-set wrinkles and loose skin couldn’t be restored to the youthful energy and vigor of the past, no matter how much he adjusted.

He counted the belongings beside him, ensuring all the paintings were with him before he looked at the people next to him.

"Each of you, don’t pull a long face.

You are not children anymore, you should have long since anticipated this day would come.

Even if I don’t leave, I would die, and would your lives be over just because I die?"

"It’s different..."

Known for his steadfast and courageous reputation, the Naval Leader Sunday remains thin, standing straight like a rifle planted into the sand, yet his voice carried a sob.

Saturday lightly patted Sunday’s shoulder, casually wiping the corner of his own eye.

"Can’t you stay a few extra days?

Over the years, I’ve been busy working and haven’t taken much time to accompany you properly."

"I don’t like you being so distant, as though you’ve been civilized since the beginning.

Saturday, has knowledge changed you, or has power changed you?

Do you think that by wearing outsiders’ clothes and using polite words, they will genuinely respect you, and you can integrate into their circle?

What makes them respect you is power, knowledge, and having something to ask of others. It pains me to see you become like this.

I don’t want to be too harsh, but before I leave, I must remind you not to forget where your roots are!"

Chen Zhou glanced at his watch, waved a hand before Saturday could respond.

"Step aside now; the time has come!"

Saturday obviously wanted to ignore Chen Zhou’s signal, forcing his inner thoughts out, but seeing that aged yet dignified face, ultimately couldn’t muster the courage.

The crowd collectively moved aside, creating distance from the center of the sand area.

During the wait, each second seemed particularly prolonged, perhaps only thirty seconds or a minute had passed.

Just as people were staring at Chen Zhou, thinking nothing would happen, they suddenly found the scene in their eyes frozen like a mirror.

The sand, invisible air, wind crossing the coast, even the sunlight dimmed by the clouds became traceable—

Every detail and angle of the sand grains, the scarcely perceptible molecules in the air, the trajectory of the wind’s movement, the myriad colors composing light...

They transformed into surging information, forcibly flooding into people’s brains like a torrent, submerging their consciousness, rendering them unable to maintain their capacity for thought.

And their Leader, the elderly man standing at the center of the sand, at that moment transformed into an indescribable object with countless faces and forms, along with those framed paintings appearing to exist in various spaces and stages, creating a dizzying array of strange hues.

Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter