"Is anyone alive? Please respond!"
A rough male voice yelled amidst the sound of sea breeze, jolting Monet from his slumber. However, as he took in the scene around him, he almost fainted again. He had fallen asleep in his small yet warm bedroom, but now he found himself immersed in cold seawater. How could this be? And why were there several other individuals nearby, wearing life jackets like himself, but clearly lifeless? Not far away, there was a lifeboat, and a man in sophisticated crew attire stood at the bow, the one who had likely awakened him.
Where... where was he? Could this be some sort of time travel?
However, it was evident that contemplating such matters was not the priority now. He couldn't stay submerged like this; he might perish. Perhaps the reason he had come here was that the original owner of this body had already perished.
Sighing, Monet shook away these jumbled thoughts and then shouted aloud, "Help! Can someone please help me?"
Upon hearing Monet's cry, a crew member immediately directed the sailors, "Quick, row over there, someone's still alive!"
The crew member rescued Monet onto the lifeboat, wrapping him in a blanket. He then inquired with concern, "Sir, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, thank you for saving me!" Monet replied with genuine gratitude. He truly meant those words, as he realized that if help hadn't arrived a bit sooner, he might have frozen to death.
"This is our duty. Alright, sir, take some rest, and we'll see if there are any other survivors left!" With that, the crew member returned to the helm.
After the crew member left, Monet intended to rest and regain his strength for a while. However, sleep was impossible in such circumstances. Just as he was drifting in and out of consciousness, a sudden commotion startled him awake. Opening his eyes, he saw that two more people had been rescued, both young girls. This was understandable; in such situations, gentlemen tended to give priority to women and children.
Yet, when he got a clear look at the face of one of the girls, Monet's mind was sent reeling. He almost fainted again. This girl... wasn't she Kate Winslet? But she should be nearing fifty by now, right? How could she still look so young? Could it be... could he have crossed into the world of "Titanic"?
Fortunately, Monet was an avid reader of online novels and had even authored a couple himself. As a result, he quickly adapted to this surreal situation. However, he couldn't help but feel frustrated by his current identity – an utterly ordinary, unknown British painter, or more accurately, an illustrator. The only fortuitous coincidence was that he shared the same name, Monet. Perhaps it was this detail that led him to occupy this body.
Amidst Monet's swirling thoughts, the other blonde girl turned to a crew member and asked, "Captain, where are we headed now?"
"Um, I'm not the captain. I'm Harold Lowe, a crew member. We're headed back to the gathering point for the lifeboats. But don't worry, we sent distress signals before we disembarked. I believe help will arrive soon to rescue us!" Harold reassured.
"I hope what you're saying is true!" Clearly, the recent harrowing disaster had shattered the blonde girl's composure.
At this moment, Monet couldn't help but interject, "Regardless, we're already incredibly lucky to have been rescued, don't you think?"
Glancing at the bodies floating on the water not far away, the blonde girl shivered slightly and then nodded, "You're right!"
Turning to Monet, she introduced herself, "Hello, I'm Wendy Howard. And you, sir?"
"Tony Monet!" Monet replied offhandedly.
"Are you perhaps the great French painter?" Wendy teased.
"Definitely not. He's probably in his seventies now, and I'm not even French; I'm British," Monet chuckled, though he sighed inwardly. When his parents named him, they had no clue there was a famous French painter with the same name.
Wendy then turned to Ruth and inquired, "Miss, what's your name?"
"Ruth Dawson!" Ruth replied concisely. It was evident she hadn't yet moved past Jack's death, and her use of the last name Dawson indicated she now saw herself as his wife.
As the group chatted, Harold suddenly pointed excitedly into the distance, exclaiming, "Look over there! The Carpathia is coming to rescue us!"
While the crew members on various lifeboats had all mentioned that ships would come to our aid upon receiving their distress signals, most people believed it was just comforting talk. Thus, when they saw the Carpathia slowly approaching from afar, they couldn't help but erupt into cheers!
On the deck of the Carpathia, Harold suggested, "Alright, sirs and ladies, you can go look for your relatives and friends now!"
Wendy immediately stood up and said, "Alright, I'll go look for my brother!"
Seeing that Monet and Ruth hadn't moved, Harold curiously asked, "Aren't you two planning to look for someone as well?"
Monet shook his head, responding, "I don't need to look, I was alone on the ship, with no relatives or friends to find."
Ruth, on the other hand, coldly said, "I don't need to search either, because I have no family left."
"Alright then, the three of you rest here for a while," Harold said before leaving.
Not long after, Wendy came back in tears. Ruth stepped forward and embraced her, asking, "What's wrong, dear?"
"My... my brother isn't on the ship. He might... he might be..." Wendy choked out.
Though Wendy didn't finish her sentence, both Ruth and Monet understood what she meant. However, at this moment, comforting her took precedence over anything else. So, Ruth consoled, "Darling, don't be so sad. Perhaps your brother will be rescued by another lifeboat shortly."
Wendy knew that Ruth was trying to console her, even if the hope seemed remote. But at present, even the most uncertain hope was better than complete despair. So, she didn't contradict her; instead, she continued to bury her emotions in Ruth's embrace.
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this is new starting point,
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