Into The Sea

“You’re wrong.”

A familiar yet unfamiliar voice reached Lan Yueyao’s ears. She stiffened, then turned sharply to see a woman sitting cross-legged not far away.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the woman’s profile, involuntarily taking a step towards her.

As her foot landed, the once pure and ethereal ground suddenly burst into color. Ripples spread outward from her, revealing lush green mountains and endless sandy beaches. The sound of crashing waves filled her ears, and a gentle sea breeze brushed against her skin.

Realizing what was happening, she stumbled forward desperately. “Chunhan!”

Yet her arms passed effortlessly through the woman’s form. Lan Yueyao fell to her knees beside her, reaching out again and again, frantic yet helpless, grasping nothing but empty air.

Chu Chunhan’s sat with her hair tied back by a silk ribbon, her white robes as pure as snow. Her peach blossom eyes smiled gently, but her words were sharp. “That was the Gate of Death. If this weren’t your spiritual sea, you would have died the moment you stepped into it.”

Lan Yueyao froze, staring at her in shock until another voice reached her ears.

“I get it now.”

She turned her head to see another familiar figure standing not far away. Lan Wu circled around awkwardly, then squatted down to pick at the sand on the ground, muttering softly, “This is my first time breaking a formation. How could I get it right on the first try?”

Chu Chunhan’s smile deepened. “But I had a student who once broke a formation on her first try.”

Lan Wu paused, looking over, though her gaze never quite landed on Chu Chunhan. “Someone that talented? Do I know her?”

“In a way.”

Chu Chunhan placed her hand on the chessboard in front of her, reminiscing. “She was brilliant, lively, kind, and filled with ambition. She was the most spirited person I’ve ever met.”

Lan Wu was silent for a moment, then turned her head back, dejected. “I’m just not that smart. I can’t compare to her.”

Chu Chunhan frowned. “Don’t say that.”

Seeing Lan Wu’s continued gloominess, Chu Chunhan helplessly pursed her lips and gently flicked her fingers upward. A translucent jellyfish materialized, floating slowly toward Lan Wu.

Its long tentacles wrapped around Lan Wu’s shoulders, like a gentle embrace. “The two of you… you’re similar, yet also very different.”

Lan Wu tilted her head, rubbing her face against the small jellyfish.

Chu Chunhan continued, “Though you’re both kind, she was born favored by the heavens, confident and proud, raised among adoring clan members who shielded her from hardship. Once she stumbled into despair, she became trapped by her inner demons, unable to escape.”

“And you… before you turned two hundred, your clan viewed you as nothing more than an adorable yet useless little princess. They pitied you without ever truly respecting you. After two hundred years, even that pity vanished, yet you grew used to it, didn’t you?”

Lan Yueyao, who was standing quietly nearby, instinctively clenched her fist, her eyes growing red.

“You took separate paths,” Chu Chunhan sighed. “One sank deeper into the abyss, the other clawed her way upwards. Neither path is right or wrong, though I do find myself thinking occasionally… how unfortunate. Neither of your lives was supposed to turn out like this.”

Lan Wu pondered this quietly, hugging the small jellyfish as she rose and approached a nearby table stacked with bamboo slips. “But it’s every experience from the past that has shaped who I am today. I don’t hate who I’ve become…” She paused, murmuring to herself, “But would she hate the person she’s become?”

Lan Yueyao shuddered, tears welling up in her eyes. The scene before her shifted once more.

Mountains crumbled, and giant waves surged. The heart of this spiritual sea was now vastly different from before.

“If you can, please help me stop Yueyao.”

“Will she even believe me?”

In the mournful sea breeze, Lan Wu hugged Chu Chunhan tightly, choking back sobs. “If she doesn’t believe me, how can I stop her?”

Chu Chunhan remained seated serenely, her body dissolving into glimmers of white light, melting away like snow. “If she still remembers her original ideals, and if she still remembers why I loved her… then please give her a message for me…”

The woman lifted her head slowly, her hair already vanishing into ash, yet her gentle eyes remained unchanged, gazing fondly at the motionless Lan Yueyao.

Across an endless span of years, Lan Yueyao finally saw again the familiar warmth of that smile:

“You’ve worked so hard, Yueyao.”

“Rest now.”

“Ugh!” Ji Lingyue grunted, desperately blocking the first giant dragon that charged at them. A metallic taste filled her mouth. She looked back at Lan Wu, who had her eyes closed peacefully. She bit her lip and gathered a dense demonic mist in her hands, creating a dome-shaped barrier around them.

The others also stepped forward, the streams of light from their fingertips merging into the barrier, helping her relieve the pressure. Ye Qingjun looked at the dark sky outside the barrier and frowned. “This isn’t even her full strength. We need to get back now!”

“I know,” Ji Lingyue blinked rapidly. “But Lan Wu has cast a Soul Binding spell. Their spiritual seas are linked. We can’t move her until the spell is over!”

Ye Qingjun pursed her lips, looking at the two young cultivators beside her. “You two, take Danqing back first.”

Danqing flapped her one good wing in refusal. “No! I won’t leave without my master!”

“Enough!” Ye Qingjun, rarely losing her temper, nearly kicked her. “This isn’t the time for stubbornness!”

Just then, Ji Lingyue suddenly said, “They’re coming!”

Everyone looked up to see several massive beasts emerging from the dark sky, descending like mountains. Even through the barrier, Ji Lingyue could feel the overwhelming pressure.

This was the strength of a Tribulation Transcendent cultivator. Even with only one major realm difference, it was like an unbridgeable gap.

She clenched her teeth, her body trembling as the ferocious beasts charged toward them. Just as they braced for impact, the roaring dragons suddenly dissipated into smoke, leaving only a faint trace of demonic energy.

With a loud crash, the sand beneath them was flung into the air, raining down on the barrier behind them. The crowd inside the barrier had fallen silent, staring in shock at the scene before them.

Ji Lingyue was stunned. She came back to her senses and quickly turned to look at the woman behind her.

Lan Wu had opened her eyes, her silver lashes damp as if she had just been crying. The oppressive demonic energy in the sky began to fade, and the long-awaited drizzle finally began to fall, passing through the barrier and landing on everyone.

In the calming wind, a solitary figure stood with her head bowed, her expression vacant. After a long moment, she lifted her head and walked slowly toward Lan Wu.

Ji Lingyue tensed, her demonic energy forming sharp spikes. But Lan Wu gently grasped her hand, shaking her head. “Ah Yue, it’s alright.”

Ji Lingyue met her gaze for a moment, then pursed her lips and obediently withdrew her demonic energy.

“Why?” Lan Yueyao finally walked in front of Lan Wu, staring at her intently. “Why… does she always choose you?”

Many years ago, when they were about to escape and reach the shore, Chunhan had turned back without hesitation. Or fifteen years ago, when she woke up in Lan Wu’s spiritual sea, she didn’t choose to reunite with her. Instead, she used all of her remaining strength to protect Lan Wu’s soul.

Lan Yueyao gently touched Lan Wu’s face, whispering hoarsely. “Is it just because… you’re her daughter?”

Lan Wu asked in return, “Do you really not know what kind of person she was?”

“Even if I wasn’t her daughter, she would have done the same thing. It’s not about choice. It’s because her sense of justice wouldn’t allow her to sacrifice innocent lives.” Lan Wu looked into her eyes and asked softly, “What about you? Do you still remember your original ideals?”

Those naive and fearless dreams, those bold declarations that now seemed almost childish.

To bring the merfolk back to the sunlit shallows, to live in harmony with the humans, to become a great Sea Emperor.

“Do you still remember?”

Lan Yueyao’s long lashes trembled. She scoffed. “It’s too late now. I’ve… gone too far.”

“Yes.”

She carefully placed her hand on the back of Lan Yueyao’s hand, saying softly, “So please rest now, Aunt. You’ve done enough.”

Those eyes, so similar to Chu Chunhan’s, were filled with gentle compassion. For a moment, the young mermaid looked exactly like her mother.

Pearls like crystalline tears fell gently, mixing with the rain. Lan Yueyao smiled sadly, shaking her head and sighing deeply.

“So, after all, it was just a futile dream…”

—

Author’s note:

In truth, when Chunhan saved the young mermaid years ago, it wasn’t primarily out of maternal love. That is to say, no matter who the Sea Emperor had captured, she would have risked her life to save them. Later, when she pushed the little mermaid to study, it was more out of a sense of responsibility. It was only after spending fifteen years together in the spiritual sea, and finally allowing the young mermaid to call her “mother,” that she finally began to love her.