Into The Sea

The autumn rain fell relentlessly as Ji Lingyue, lifting the hem of her robe, ascended the damp stone steps, her gaze settling on two figures seated in a pavilion not far off.

“Yuan Zhen.”

The man didn’t respond, but the short attendant beside him turned his head, glanced at Ji Lingyue, and whispered something into Yuan Zhen’s ear. After a moment, the old man slowly turned his head, revealing a face etched with deep wrinkles. Ji Lingyue stepped into the pavilion, stunned. “Yuan Zhen, you’ve grown old.”

Yuan Zhen chuckled hoarsely, his voice raspy. “Mortals are bound to age, unlike immortal cultivators who remain unchanged through the years.”

“Unchanged?” Ji Lingyue murmured, shaking her head. She sat on the stone stool opposite him. “How did you know I was here?”

The old man set down his cane and slowly pulled a paper crane from his robe. “Have you forgotten? You gave me this paper crane, telling me it would guide me to you.” He coughed a few times, his voice muffled. “I waited for so many years, and only recently did this crane finally react, leading me here.”

Ji Lingyue took the paper crane, feeling the faint spiritual energy still lingering on it. She gently touched it, recalling the time in Rong’an when she had asked him to decipher the words on the stone slab. For a moment, she was silent.

She already knew the meaning of those words, yet Yuan Zhen had come all this way to fulfill a promise made years ago, to answer a riddle she had long since solved.

Ji Lingyue lowered her gaze, pouring him a cup of hot tea.

“When I found my master, it had only been half a year since we parted,” Yuan Zhen said. “But by the time I understood the meaning of these words and followed the paper crane to find you, it stopped at the southernmost tip of the sea and never moved again.” He sighed. “I thought I would never see you again in this lifetime. I never imagined that, before I die, I could still fulfill my promise to you.”

Ji Lingyue was silent for a moment, then asked, “How is your master?”

Yuan Zhen chuckled, “Have you forgotten? My master was also a mortal. He has long since passed away.”

He turned to his attendant. “Yan’er, bring it out.”

The attendant nodded and produced the stone fragment and an old, yellowed cloth from a satchel. He carefully spread them on the table.

“This is what my master deciphered back then. These are the meanings of the words.”

Ji Lingyue looked down and saw that the words “resurrection,” “soul,” and “flower” were indeed written on the cloth. She pursed her lips and said sincerely, “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” Yuan Zhen coughed again, smiling gently. “This was all my master’s doing. If he were still here, he would have come himself to talk with you for days.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed,” Yuan Zhen sighed. ” My master was always fascinated by these lost scripts and devoted himself to studying them. Unfortunately, he traveled the world but never found someone who shared his passion. These words were written nearly a hundred years ago. When he saw them, he was so excited, always saying he wanted to meet the owner of the tablet.”

Ji Lingyue suddenly froze, her eyes widening. “Nearly a hundred years ago?”

Yuan Zhen nodded, puzzled. “You didn’t know?”

Ji Lingyue’s expression shifted. “But this tablet… this tablet is clearly from seven hundred years ago.”

“That’s impossible. You must be mistaken.”

“How can it be impossible?”

“My master taught me this too. Please look.” Yuan Zhen picked up the tablet, running his fingers over the smooth, worn edge. “This stone has many small green dots on its surface, smooth as jade. If the weather is good, and you hold it up to the sun, it will reflect a faint green light. It’s very hard to notice.”

Ji Lingyue looked at him skeptically. “So?”

“This type of stone is called the Queqing Stone. It was only discovered in Qingshuang Valley of the Eastern Region a hundred and twenty years ago. Because it’s rare and expensive, even now, it’s only circulated in the Eastern and Southern Continent.”

Ji Lingyue stiffened, her fists clenching unconsciously.

Unnoticed, the rain had grown heavier, pounding against the tiles and dripping from the eaves in a continuous stream.

She leaned on the table, stood up, and walked dazedly into the rain.

The cold drops stung her skin, sending a shiver through her. The muffled voice behind her suddenly became clear. “Immortal, where are you going?”

Ji Lingyue blinked, the fog clearing in her mind. “I need to tell Lan Wu.” She walked into the rain, her voice low. “The tablet was replaced. It’s a fake.”

If the tablet was fake, then was the resurrection technique written on it… also fake?

And most importantly, did Lan Yueyao know?

***

Under the pouring rain, Lan Wu conjured a small jellyfish made of water to shield her head as she hurried to meet Fuyou outside the city. After turning several corners, she realized the footsteps behind her hadn’t stopped. She sighed and turned back. “Why are you still following me? Do you still suspect I have ulterior motives?”

Qi Yueyao crossed her arms. “Don’t be so cynical. I’m here to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Lan Wu was surprised. “You? Protect me?”

Qi Yueyao nodded seriously. “Your little followers are injured, and that grumpy demon can’t do much in the city either. If I don’t protect you, who will?”

Lan Wu hesitated. “You said it yourself, we’re in the city. Who would attack me here?”

“You never know,” Qi Yueyao said, looking around suspiciously. “The cultivators from Penglai are very sneaky.”

Lan Wu couldn’t help but smile. “So you believe me now?”

Qi Yueyao was taken aback, then huffed. “I’m still skeptical.”

Lan Wu was touched. She reached out and took her hand. “You’re a good person.”

“…” Qi Yueyao’s eyes widened. She jumped back, rubbing her hand on her robe. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s disgusting.”

Lan Wu laughed and continued walking. “Thank you anyway.”

She hurried out of the city and walked a hundred meters, finding Fuyou surrounded by a few cultivators.

The woman was still wearing a loose black robe. Her skin, pale from lack of sunlight, was almost translucent. She stood calmly, seemingly enveloped by an invisible barrier that kept the rain away.

“Fuyou,” Lan Wu said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I have something for you.” She glanced at the cultivators nearby. “But it’s better if we talk alone.”

Lan Wu paused, nodded politely to the others, and pulled Fuyou aside. “What do you have for me?”

Fuyou produced a small box from her sleeve. “Here.”

Lan Wu took it, puzzled. Inside were a few thin sheets of paper. Picking up the top one, she saw a few lines of symbols. She didn’t understand them, but they looked familiar.

After staring at them for a moment, her eyes widened. “This is the script from Zisang Kingdom! Where did you find this?”

“From my master’s secret room,” Fuyou said.

Lan Wu frowned, confused. “The former High Priestess? Why would she have this?”

“I don’t know,” Fuyou shook her head. “There’s another one underneath.”

Lan Wu looked down and picked up the second sheet. This time, she recognized the writing. “Beware of the Emperor…” She paused, puzzled. “Beware of the Emperor? Why? What’s wrong with my brother?”

Fuyou hesitated. “I think my master wasn’t referring to the current Emperor, but the previous one, Lan Zhichuan.”

Lan Wu froze, her fingers tightening around the paper. “But he’s dead.”

“You said before that the prophecy didn’t come true. Lan Zhichuan didn’t die because of you. But… I don’t think my master would be wrong. After thinking about it, I can only conclude one thing.” Fuyou bit her lip, her voice grave. “Lan Zhichuan isn’t dead. He’s still alive.”

Lan Wu stared at her, the paper in her hand crumpled. After a moment, she said hoarsely, “If he’s not dead, then where has he been hiding all these years?”

“I don’t know,” Fuyou said softly. “I can’t be sure if he’s alive or not, but it’s the most likely possibility. So, Your Highness, you must be careful. If he’s still alive, you are his greatest enemy.”

A thunderclap echoed, and the world seemed to drown in the sound of pouring rain. Lan Wu’s eyes reddened, and she suddenly let out a bitter laugh. “How ridiculous…”

“Your Highness?”

“It’s all so ridiculous…” She clenched her fists, her voice trembling. “All these years… one after another… they’re all still alive. Only my mother… only my mother…”

Tears fell, and she let out a pained sob, her body shaking with hatred. “I will kill them all!”