Into The Sea

The fingers around Yu Shanye’s throat tightened even more. Ji Lingyue glared fiercely at Yu Shanye, chest heaving violently, but still managed to shove her away and turn to leave.

Yu Shanye clutched her neck, her voice hoarse, “Ji Lingyue!”

“Don’t ever come looking for us again,” the cold voice carried on the wind, black mist rising from the woman’s feet, swallowing her slender form.

“From this day forward, consider Ji Lingyue and Lan Wu as if they never existed.”

“What do you mean by that?” Yu Shanye struggled to her feet, stumbling forward, reaching out. “Ji…”

Just as her fingertips were about to touch the scorching mist, the shadowy figure before her suddenly dissolved into countless butterflies, their wings fluttering as they vanished into the moonlit night.

A gentle evening breeze swept across the dunes, brushing against her cheeks and blowing her long hair behind her. Yu Shanye stood there, alone and lost in the vast desert.

Under the same moonlight, the fluttering black butterflies gracefully caught up to the rapidly moving merfolk. The woman materialized, walking alongside Lan Yuan, who was carrying Lan Wu on her back.

Lan Yuan glanced at her, a complex look in her eyes, but ultimately sighed, returning her gaze to the road ahead.

Ji Lingyue lowered her gaze, and after a long moment, reached out her pale hand, grasping the edge of Lan Wu’s flowing robe.

What had taken them half a month to traverse leisurely on the way there was now covered in just three days of relentless travel. By noon on the third day, they arrived at the shores of the Southern Sea. The group stepped onto the water, and after moving several miles from the coast, Lan Yuan finally took out a small conch-shaped object and blew a long, melodious note.

Soon, a deep, ethereal call echoed from the depths of the sea. A massive black whale broke the surface, water cascading from its back like a waterfall, creating a spray of white foam.

Lan Yuan was the first to climb onto the whale’s back with Lan Wu in her arms. Just as Ji Lingyue was about to follow, a young girl grabbed her by the arm. “Wait.”

Feng Yi hesitated. “Your Highness, she’s human. Is it really alright to bring her into the Kunlun Sea?”

Ji Lingyue paused, lifting her head to look at Lan Yuan. Lan Yuan met her gaze for a moment before saying, “Until we verify whether the life contract is genuine, we still need her.” She tightened her hold on Lan Wu, and added, “But if you’re lying to me, I will kill you myself.”

Ji Lingyue said nothing, simply climbing up onto the whale and seating herself behind Lan Yuan. Once everyone was seated, the whale slowly descended, its tail swaying as it swam into the endless depths. The sunlight above gradually faded, and they were plunged into complete darkness.

Ji Lingyue cast a water-repelling spell. The only sound was the muffled gurgling of bubbles rising around them. She raised her hand, about to conjure a light, when Lan Yuan’s voice came from nearby. “Don’t move.”

Her voice was cold. “You may enter the Kunlun Sea, but the path there is not something you should know.”

After a moment of silence, Ji Lingyue obediently lowered her hand, even closing her eyes.

The icy water flowed across her face. It felt like hours before her eyelids detected a faint light. Then, a warm barrier passed over her, and the surrounding water became pleasantly warm.

“We’ve arrived,” Lan Yuan said. “Ji Lingyue, don’t speak, don’t look around. Just follow me quietly.”

Ji Lingyue opened her eyes, and her vision was filled with coral, blooming in the depths of the sea, radiating a dazzling light. Several merfolk, their tails now visible, swam through the water, heading towards a cluster of buildings that emitted a soft white glow.

Ji Lingyue kept her gaze straight ahead. As she stepped into the merfolk city alongside Lan Yuan, voices echoed around them.

“Your Highness! You’re back!”

“Your Highness, what happened?”

“Your Highness, where’s Meng Qi?”

“Your Highness…”

Lan Yuan pressed her lips together, watching as the merfolk emerged from their dwellings, swimming toward her. Her long lashes trembled. “Feng Yi,” she said.

“Your Highness,” the girl responded.

“You…” Lan Yuan’s voice was strained. “Go inform His Majesty and the Empress Dowager that I’ll wait for them at the High Priestess Temple.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and swam quickly towards the sea cliffs in the distance.

Unlike the merfolk’s dwellings, the High Priestess Temple was a completely black structure. Lan Yuan swam into the empty hall, shouting, “Fuyou!”

A voice answered, “Over here.”

Fuyou emerged from the depths of the palace, carrying a small lamp. Seeing Lan Yuan, she was taken aback. “Your Highness?”

Lan Yuan’s eyes lit up, and she rushed forward. “Fuyou, please look… look at Lan Wu!”

Fuyou instinctively looked at the person in her arms. After a moment of silence, a hint of sorrow appeared in her usually clear eyes. “Your Highness,” she said, her voice tight, “the soul lamp is extinguished.”

Lan Yuan froze, panicked. “I know, but please take another look. You’re the High Priestess, you can see everything. Maybe… maybe there’s still hope?”

“Your Highness,” Fuyou shook her head. “I informed the Emperor the night the soul lamp went out. He and the Empress Dowager have been sleepless for days, trying to find a solution, but… soul lamps don’t fail. They are connected to the mermaid pearl by life and death. If it goes out, it can only mean that the Third Princess…”

“She’s not dead,” Ji Lingyue, who had been silent until now, suddenly said. Fuyou paused, finally noticing her. “Who are you?”

Ji Lingyue stared back stubbornly. “She’s not dead. I formed a life-and-death contract with her…”

“A life-and-death contract?”

A voice came from the doorway. Lan Yuan turned, exclaiming, “Your Majesty!”

A tall figure slowly swam into the room. The man had handsome features and a cold demeanor, but now his complexion was poor, with dark circles under his eyes. “I heard you’ve returned,” he said, “and you brought Xiao Wu back.”

Lan Yuan’s nose tingled with suppressed emotion. Before she could speak, another frantic voice cried out. “Yuan’er, Xiao Wu!”

A beautiful woman in a disheveled royal robe rushed in. Her eyes locked onto Lan Wu and she froze, “What… what happened?”

She stared at Lan Wu for a long time before slowly approaching, reaching out as if she wanted to touch her but was afraid to. “She just went out for a while… why is she sleeping so deeply?”

Jiang Xi lips quivered as she looked down at the quiet little mermaid, her eyes gradually filling with tears. “Wake up, Xiao Wu. Don’t sleep anymore.”

She gently stroked Lan Wu’s cold face, her voice choked with emotion. “Xiao Wu…”

“Mother,” Lan Ji’s voice was hoarse, his chest heaving. He suddenly clenched his teeth, his voice filled with grief and anger. “Who did this?!”

He tightened his fists, his voice filled with anguish. “What happened? You went to the demon realm, didn’t you? How did you meet Xiao Wu? Why is she like this?!”

“It’s a long story,” Lan Yuan said, flustered. “But, Lan Wu… Lan Wu might not be dead…”

Lan Ji froze. “What did you say?”

Lan Yuan’s voice trembled, slightly incoherent. “I don’t really believe it either, but Lan Wu and Ji Lingyue formed a life-and-death contract, and Ji Lingyue is still alive…”

“Who is Ji Lingyue?”

Lan Yuan stepped aside, revealing the silent figure standing behind her. “It’s her.”

Lan Ji looked at her, suspicion in his eyes. “A life-and-death contract?”

He slowly approached Ji Lingyue, his merfolk face stern, his tall figure pressing down like a wall, emanating an invisible pressure. Yet Ji Lingyue didn’t move, only slightly raising her head to meet his gaze with a calm demeanor.

Lan Ji stared at her unusual pupils, narrowing his eyes. “You… don’t seem entirely human anymore. You’re a demon.”

Ji Lingyue replied indifferently, “Are merfolk afraid of demons?”

The man’s aura turned icy, his pupils narrowing further. “How did you form a life-and-death contract with Xiao Wu?”

“Does that even matter anymore?” Ji Lingyue’s voice was hoarse. ” What matters is that Lan Wu isn’t dead.”

Lan Ji frowned, his gaze becoming even colder. He was about to speak again when Fuyou suddenly cried out, “Ah…”

She rarely showed such a loss of composure. Lan Yuan quickly asked, “What’s wrong?”

Fuyou’s hand was still on Lan Wu’s abdomen, her palm emitting a white glow. “There seems to be a trace of… of something inside the Third Princess.”

Lan Yuan’s eyes widened, her voice filled with joy. “Demonic energy?”

“No,” Fuyou shook her head, her expression confused. “Spiritual energy.”

She frowned, probing Lan Wu’s dantian more carefully.

Everyone fell silent, watching her intently, afraid to breathe. After a long moment, Lan Yuan whispered, “How is it?”

Fuyou slowly lifted her head, her voice hesitant. “If I’m not mistaken, it seems the Third Princess has… a spiritual core, something only human cultivators possess.”

Lan Yuan was stunned.

Fuyou continued, “When a mermaid’s pearl is removed, their soul should scatter. But the Third Princess… her soul has been preserved by this spiritual core. So, it seems… she really is still alive.”

Silence filled the hall. After a long moment, Lan Yuan looked at Lan Wu’s peaceful face, and suddenly remembered a casual complaint the carefree girl had voiced to her years ago when she found her in Haochen Mountain.

“I’m a demon, after all. Why would I need to form a spiritual core? But Ah Yue doesn’t know that I’m a demon, and she’s always worried about it. She spent years searching for medicine to treat my ‘illness,’ and I had to be force-fed medicine by Elder Yao every other day—and somehow, I grew a weak little spiritual core.”

“But this spiritual core is just for show. I’m still terrible at cultivation.”

“Sigh, Ah Yue is always pushing me to cultivate. If I slack off, she becomes so fierce, even fiercer than Elder Qin.”

“…Ah,” Lan Yuan suddenly staggered back, covering her face with her hands, laughing and crying at the same time.

“So that’s how it is.”

A seed planted decades ago bore fruit today. The Ji Lingyue she had once despised, who had left behind a stubborn determination so many years ago, had now saved Lan Wu’s life.

From a distance, Ji Lingyue blinked, a faint smile curving her pale lips before exhaustion overtook her. As she closed her eyes, a few silent tears slid down her cheeks.

“However,” Fuyou said softly, “this spiritual core isn’t very powerful. It shouldn’t have protected her soul so well, and…”

She frowned deeper. “If her soul hasn’t left her body, then why has she remained unconscious?”