American Hunting: Starting with Solitary Life in the Wilderness

Chapter 364 Princess Mette
About half an hour later, two Bahamian customs officials in white uniforms boarded the North Star.

They politely but efficiently checked the three men's passports and ship documents.

After confirming that all the information was correct and stamping their cruise permits with an entry stamp, the leading official smiled at Lin Yu'an.

"Welcome to the Bahamas, Captain. You are now free to do as you please."

"Thank you."

After the officials disembarked, Mike walked to the mast and said to Lin Yu'an, "Captain, it's your turn now."

Lin Yu'an nodded, stepped forward, untied the rope of the yellow "Q" flag that symbolized "request," and slowly lowered it down.

With the quarantine flag lowered, this voyage across the Gulf Stream finally came to a truly successful conclusion, both legally and in ceremony.

However, the oppressive atmosphere that enveloped the docks did not dissipate in the slightest.

Raven remained silent as she worked on the ropes on the deck, each movement mechanical and deliberate, her gaze always avoiding the huge black sailboat beside her.

Mike, with a gloomy face, took out two bottles of beer from the cooler, handed one to Lin Yu'an, and gulped down half of it himself, as if trying to use alcohol to quell the irritability in his heart.

Just then, the black sailboat named "Asgard" slowly lowered its electric gangway and landed smoothly on the dock.

A woman with an elegant figure and outstanding temperament walked out of the cabin.

She looked to be in her forties, and time seemed to have been exceptionally kind to her, leaving only a few faint smile lines at the corners of her eyes, adding to her mature charm.

Her long, smooth, flaxen hair was loosely tied back, revealing her smooth forehead and slender swan neck.

She wore a simple white linen dress, barefoot, without any glittering embellishments, yet exuded an inimitable air of nobility.

Her features were extremely delicate, especially her blue eyes, which were exactly like Raven's. Although she had gained a bit of vicissitudes with age, they were still like the clearest fjord lake water.

She stood quietly at the top of the gangway, her gaze spanning more than ten meters, watching Raven, who was pretending to be busy, with a tender yet complex expression.

“Sweetheart…” she finally spoke, her voice as gentle as a spring breeze in April, “Can we come down and talk?”

Upon hearing this familiar address, Raven's body stiffened abruptly, and the rope in her hand seemed to turn scalding hot.

She slowly straightened up, turned her head, and met that gentle gaze.

“Princess Mette,” she began, her voice cold and deliberately using the other’s official title, as if drawing an insurmountable chasm between them.

The woman known as "Princess Mette" is Raven's mother, the current Crown Princess of Norway, Mette Liv.

A hint of hurt flashed across her face, but it was quickly replaced by a helpless, bitter smile.

Ignoring Raven's indifference, he turned his gaze to Mike standing to the side, nodded slightly, and spoke in a calm and gentle tone:
"Mike, long time no see. You're still the same, like an old teak that's been hardened by seawater and sunshine."

Mike put down his beer bottle, leaned against the ship's railing with his arms crossed, and looked at her with an extremely complicated expression, a look that contained both nostalgia and helplessness.

“Mette,” his voice was low and hoarse, “you are still the same as ever, beautiful, noble, and cold.”

His tone was not one of hatred, but rather a detached statement of facts.

Princess Mette seemed to have long been accustomed to his "watchdog" attitude. She sighed and turned her gaze back to Raven.

She softened her tone, her voice tinged with pleading: "Raven, please don't do this. I just... didn't expect to run into you here."

"I've made a reservation at Dune restaurant on Paradise Island tonight. I just want to... just want to have dinner with you and have a good chat."

“I don’t want to go,” Raven replied crisply. “My crew and I have a lot of things to take care of; we’re very busy.”

“Crew members?” Princess Mette then turned her gaze to Lin Yu’an, who was standing next to Raven.

She looked the unfamiliar Eastern man up and down, her eyes filled with a subtle scrutiny.

I noticed his composed demeanor, and I also noticed the subtle gesture of Raven subconsciously taking half a step closer to him when she said "my crew."

"Who is this?"

“Lin Yu’an, our captain,” Raven introduced simply, her tone carrying an unquestionable air of protection.

"Captain Lin, hello." Princess Mette nodded politely, but her attention was clearly not on Lin Yu'an.

She looked at Mike again, her tone tinged with helplessness: "Mike, can't you try to persuade her? She only listens to you now."

Mike finally turned around and looked at the woman in front of him, who was both familiar and unfamiliar. "Mette, she's no longer the five-year-old girl who needed me to make decisions for her."

"She is an excellent captain now. Whether she goes or not is her own decision. You don't need to ask me, and you shouldn't ask me."

These words not only handed over the decision-making power entirely to Raven, but also clearly told Mette.

You missed the age when she needed you to make decisions, and now you're no longer in that position.

A flicker of pain crossed Princess Mette's eyes, but she concealed it well.

She took a deep breath and looked at Raven again, a gentle, almost ingratiating smile on her face:

“Very well, then Captain Raven, may I have the honor of inviting you and your crew to dinner?”

“You know I definitely won’t go,” Mike replied bluntly.

“Raven…” Princess Mette’s voice carried a hint of weakness and pleading that only a mother would have.

"Even if it's just for me, okay? I just want to know how you've been lately, and hear your sailing stories. I haven't seen you for almost two years."

Raven pursed her lips tightly, a fierce internal struggle raging within her.

Reason told her she should refuse immediately, then raise the sails and escape this suffocating place.

But when she saw the cautious anticipation and undisguised joy in her mother's blue eyes, her heart, which was wrapped in a hard shell, was still pierced.

She remembered when she was a child, it was these same eyes that had read Andersen's fairy tales to her on a winter night in Norway.

These were the same hands that had taught her how to ski and how to spin on the ice. Those memories she had deliberately buried deep inside surged into her heart like an uninvited tide.

“I…” She opened her mouth, but the cold “I won’t go” just wouldn’t come out.

Lin Yu'an watched quietly from the side, and he could clearly feel the inner struggle Raven was going through.

After a long struggle lasting several minutes, Raven finally raised her head, her eyes regaining their resolve, but what she said surprised everyone.

“I’m not going to Dune Restaurant.” She first declined the invitation, which was full of formality and distance.

Then, she looked at her mother and said, word by word, "If you really want to have dinner, you can stay on our boat."

"What?" Mike was the first to exclaim, clearly disagreeing with the decision.

Princess Mette was stunned, and then an indescribable light burst forth in her eyes.

"Okay!" Before Raven could change her mind, she immediately agreed, as if afraid that the opportunity would slip away if she delayed even a second.

"You can arrange dinner then! Should I have the ship's chef send over some ingredients?"

“No need.” Raven’s tone was still somewhat stiff, but it wasn’t as cold as before.

Princess Mette received an affirmative answer and relaxed, a genuine smile spreading across her face.

He naturally stepped forward and took Raven's hand. "There are still several hours before dinner, sweetheart. You have to come with me to explore the Nassau market..."

“I’m busy,” Raven instinctively refused.

The mother and daughter were once again at an impasse.

“Go, sweetheart.” Just then, Mike, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke.

He walked over to Raven and gently placed his rough, calloused hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Your captain has planned everything. I'll handle the ship's supplies and inspections; it'll only take an afternoon."

Looking at his daughter's conflicted eyes, he said in an incredibly gentle voice, "Go ahead and listen to what she has to say. After all, she is your mother."

These words were like a spell to release her from her shackles, instantly relaxing Raven's tense body.

She glanced at her father, then at the joy in her mother's eyes, a joy that had been lost and found, and finally sighed helplessly, tacitly agreeing. "Alright," she compromised, "but only for two hours."

“Three hours!” Princess Mette immediately began to haggle.

"Two and a half, no more than that!"

"make a deal!"

Mike couldn't help but laugh as he watched the mother and daughter bickering like little girls.

Soon, Princess Mette, accompanied by a reluctant but ultimately compliant Raven, got into a black car that was already waiting outside the dock and drove towards downtown Nassau.

Silence returned to the deck.

"Hoo..." Mike exhaled a long smoke ring, leaning against the ship's railing as if he had just fought a tough battle.

“I’m sorry, Lin,” he looked at Lin Yu’an with an apologetic expression, “I’m sorry you had to see this. My family situation… is a bit complicated.”

“I understand,” Lin Yu’an replied simply.

"Alright, let's not talk about this anymore." Mike quickly regained his old captain's nonchalant attitude and pointed to the shore.

"We can't just sit idly by. I need to go to the dock office to check the weather forecast for the next few days and have a drink with some old friends here."

"What about you? What are your plans? Why don't you come with me? I'll introduce you to a few captains."

Lin Yu'an glanced at the long bridge connecting Paradise Island, then at the bustling tourist pier in the distance, and smiled.

"I plan to wander around and get a feel for Nassau first."

"Okay, that's a good idea, but remember, don't go to the tourist area. There's nothing there except expensive rum and counterfeit goods."

Mike advised, "Go walk through those alleyways south of Bay Street; that's where the real Bahamas is."

"receive."

The two agreed to meet on the boat at dusk, and then disembarked separately.

Lin Yu-an didn't visit any famous tourist attractions. Along the wooden boardwalk of the yacht harbor, he turned down several tour guides who tried to sell him "glass-bottom boat tours" or "swimming with mermaids" packages.

We walked straight through Prince George Pier, which was packed with tourists from large cruise ships.

There, the air was thick with the cloying scent of cheap sunscreen and sugary cocktails, and tourists in colorful printed T-shirts swarmed like a school of lost sardines.

Weaving through the crowded duty-free shops and souvenir shops, this wasn't the Nassau he wanted to see.

Following Mike's directions, he turned into a narrow alleyway south of Bay Street, parallel to the main road.

In an instant, the world seemed to be muted, and then switched to a completely different audio channel.

The hustle and bustle of the cruise terminal is shut out by thick stone walls, replaced by a rhythm full of life, lazy yet vibrant.

The colorful Caribbean-style colonial buildings looked particularly vibrant in the afternoon sun—pastel walls, mint green shutters, and sky-blue balcony railings.

These highly saturated colors do not appear chaotic at all; instead, they create a vibrant and enthusiastic picture.

Overhead, clotheslines strung haphazardly between different balconies are hung with brightly colored garments, like flags proclaiming the end of life.

The smell in the air had changed too; the aroma of roasted conch in a tin bucket on the street corner, sizzling from the charcoal fire, was mixed with the spiciness of chili and lime juice.

The rich aroma of goat meat stewed with thyme and allspice wafted from some kitchen, I don't know which one.

The background music here is no longer the old Elvis Presley songs that are played on repeat in stores, but a purer Bahamian sound.

From an open window came the energetic drumbeats of Junkanoo music.

It was a wild, rhythmic beat played by sheepskin drums, cowbells, and brass instruments, making you want to sway along.

Meanwhile, under the shade of the trees on the other side, several elderly men dressed in white linen shirts were playing and singing an old Calypso folk song about the sea and love, their voices hoarse and full of stories, while holding rusty guitars.

Locals sat in twos and threes in the shade in front of their houses, playing dominoes, or simply watching the street scene quietly.

When they saw Lin Yu'an, an Eastern face that clearly didn't belong here, they didn't show much wariness or enthusiastic sales pitch; they simply cast curious glances at him.

Lin Yu'an was like an observer, quietly walking through this vibrant picture, using his keen senses to fully absorb the most authentic soul of this island city.

He arrived at a cigar shop tucked away in a small alley, with a hand-painted wooden sign hanging at the entrance: "Graycliff Cigar Company".

Its store is small and looks old, a stark contrast to the glamorous duty-free shops on Bay Street.

He pushed open the heavy wooden door, and the copper bell on the door rang out with a clear and melodious sound.

A rich aroma, a blend of premium tobacco, cedarwood, and aged rum, wafts out.

It's as if you've been instantly transported from the bustling Caribbean to a tranquil and retro Cuban manor.

The shop was dimly lit, and the owner, with gray hair and gold-rimmed glasses, who looked like an old scholar, was sitting behind a huge mahogany counter, quietly reading a newspaper.

In the center of the shop is an open workbench where several skilled cigar rollers sit, their fingers flying as they expertly roll each carefully aged tobacco leaf into an art-like cigar.

Lin Yu'an's gaze swept over the beautifully packaged mass-produced cigars in the counter, but he didn't linger. Instead, he walked directly to the open workbench and quietly admired them.

His concentration caught the attention of one of the oldest cigarette rollers. He was an old man with dark skin, a face full of wrinkles, and unusually sharp eyes.

He stopped what he was doing and asked in heavily accented English, "Friend, is this your first time seeing a hand-rolled cigar?"

“Yes, sir,” Lin Yu’an replied politely. “I’m very curious about what kind of skill can turn these ordinary leaves into such a beautiful work of art.”

This respectful opening clearly pleased the old man. He grinned, revealing a set of teeth that were yellowed by tobacco but still neat.

“An artwork? Haha!” He picked up a dark brown, oily tobacco leaf and showed it to Lin Yu’an.

"This is not an ordinary leaf, it is the wrapper, the face of a cigar. It determines 80% of the cigar's flavor."

“Look at the glossy leaves and the delicate veins. They must have been grown on the red soil of Pinar del Río province in Cuba, covered with black gauze and treated like babies.”

"Although it doesn't grow in Cuba, its soul comes from there. This is the 'Cuba Crioro 98' variety cultivated in the Jarapa Valley of Nicaragua."

"The red soil of Jarapa has given Cuban seeds a second home. The quality is absolutely no less than that of leaves from Pinar del Río province in Cuba."

“And inside,” he picked up several other lighter-colored tobacco leaves.

"These are the binder and filler; they are the skeleton and soul of a cigar, determining its strength, combustibility, and complex aroma."

"Our secret is to blend tobacco leaves from different regions and years in the perfect proportion."

Just then, the old shop owner, who had been reading the newspaper, came over, clearly having overheard their conversation.

"Alfonso, it seems you've met a kindred spirit," the old shopkeeper said with a smile, then extended his hand to Lin Yu'an.

"Hello, I am the owner of this shop. You can call me Enrico. Welcome to my little workshop."

"Lin Yu'an." Lin Yu'an shook hands with him.

"Are you Chinese?" Enrico adjusted his glasses and asked. "You don't look like an ordinary tourist."

"Yes, I am Chinese and a captain. We are currently anchored in Nassau."

"Captain? It seems you're planning to prepare some fuel for your voyage?"

“That’s exactly what I meant.” Lin Yu’an nodded.

“However, before that, I have a request. I am a YouTuber, and my viewers are very interested in this traditional craft.”

"I wonder... if I may be allowed to film a short segment here?"

"Filming? Live broadcast?" Enrico paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Of course! Why not? I'd love for the whole world to see how real cigars are made, not those machine-rolled rubbish!"

(End of this chapter)