Into The Sea

The sun rose, its warm rays spilling through the window, painting dappled gold across the woman’s relaxed features. After a while, her long, curled lashes fluttered, slowly lifting to reveal dark, obsidian eyes.

She lay there confused for a moment, eyes slowly roaming until they registered the unfamiliar surroundings. Her body tensed as she suddenly sat up.

Her fingers tangled in soft strands of hair. She froze, then turned her head with a start. Only after spotting the familiar silver hair did she blink, her heart finally settling back into place.

Though she didn’t understand the situation, she let out a breath and lay back down, relieved.

A cultivator’s body was resilient. Even the numerous, shocking whip marks from the night before had faded considerably. Ji Lingyue didn’t pay attention to the scars, turning over and moving closer to Lan Wu. As she did, she caught a faint whiff of a woody fragrance.

She wrinkled her nose, determined to find the source. She sniffed at Lan Wu’s face, then burrowed into her embrace, nuzzling her neck. Lan Wu, tickled by the soft strands of hair, drowsily opened her eyes. She felt the head burrowing into her and, reaching out, pinched her chin. “What are you sniffing at? Are you really turning into a puppy?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“What puppy…” Ji Lingyue instinctively replied.

Halfway through her sentence, she suddenly stopped, her body stiffening further.

Lan Wu propped her cheek on her hand, lazily asking. “Remember now?” She playfully shook Ji Lingyue’s chin. “Little Puppy Ji?”

Ji Lingyue’s lashes trembled. She glared at her with damp eyes, then squirmed out of her grasp and buried herself in the blankets.

Lan Wu, unfazed by the loss of her blanket, cheerfully reached out to pull her back. “Aren’t you supposed to be teaching today?”

A muffled voice came from under the blanket. “The next class isn’t for five days.”

“Oh,” Lan Wu responded, trying to peel her out. She couldn’t find an opening. Ji Lingyue was clutching the blanket tightly, as if cocooning herself. Lan Wu asked with concern, “Aren’t you suffocating in there?”

After a moment of silence, Lan Wu blinked and asked softly, “Are you really not coming out?”

“Mm.”

“Alright.” Lan Wu tapped her fingers on the bed. “If you’re not coming out, I’m leaving.”

After a pause, Ji Lingyue slowly poked her head out. “You can’t leave. I’ll…ah!”

She looked down in shock at the green vines that had somehow wrapped around her waist. Memories of the previous night flooded back. “Let me go!”

Lan Wu chuckled. “If you really wanted me to let go, I would’ve done it already.”

She hadn’t released her because Ji Lingyue wasn’t serious and had no intention of using the contract.

At her words, Ji Lingyue’s face flushed red. This time, she was genuinely annoyed, her voice tinged with embarrassment. “Let me go!”

The vines retracted instantly. Ji Lingye grabbed a light white robe, pulling it on to cover the intimate marks scattered across her skin. Trying to maintain dignity, she scolded. “Your wood spiritual root may be weak in battle, but you certainly know how to use it on me.”

Lan Wu responded unabashedly, “That’s called making the most of what you have.”

Ji Lingyue fell silent, shooting her a glare. “Smooth talker.”

She tied her sash and pushed open the window, squinting in the sunlight. The bustle of street noise poured in, adding a touch of worldly warmth. Lan Wu stood behind her, hands clasped behind her back and looked out with her. She glanced at the street, then at the distant mountain peaks.

Snow still crowned the peaks, gilded by sunlight into breathtaking beauty.

“I forgot,” Ji Lingyue murmured. “you’re not afraid of the cold anymore.”

Lan Wu didn’t reply. She reached out carefully, taking Ji Lingyue’s fingertip in her own. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

Lan Wu hummed in agreement, lowering her gaze. Her spiritual energy flowed, and the long strands of hair cascading down her shoulders turned black. Her unusual eyes also darkened to an inky black. Ji Lingyue turned to her, mesmerized. For a moment, she seemed to see the carefree girl from years ago, always smiling, without a worry in the world.

She instinctively reached out to tilt Lan Wu’s chin. The mermaid’s long lashes fluttered, and she obediently lifted her head. The youthful, sweet face vanished, replaced by a pair of calm eyes and a thinner face.

Ji Lingyue frowned, a sudden pang of sadness hitting her. “Lan Wu.”

“Hm?”

“Are you…unhappy?”

Lan Wu instinctively smiled. “Why do you suddenly ask?”

“Because… I realize I’ve never asked before.” Ji Lingyue looked at her intently. “Before, I was only thinking about myself.”

She whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Lan Wu stared at her, her lashes fluttering a few times before the corners of her eyes turned faintly red. She pressed her lips together, flustered. “It’s not like I’m unhappy. I, I…”

She opened and closed her mouth helplessly, but the words wouldn’t come. Years of buried grief and pain seemed to surge forth at once. After a long silence, Lan Wu closed her wet eyes and said hoarsely, “Yes. I was unhappy.”

She drew a shaky breath and slowly buried her face in Ji Lingye’s shoulder, voice trembling: “So very unhappy.”

That year, they had barely made it back to the Kunlun Sea when somehow the prophecy leaked. Her siblings were severely injured, her mother was exhausted and unable to protect her, and the beloved Sea Emperor had died. She had to face the various sea clans alone. Even her own people—most of them—came to hate their useless princess because of the prophecy, demanding the source of calamity pay the price.

Amidst the endless insults, she presided over the funeral for her father and the fallen soldiers. She begged and pleaded with the clans until her brother woke up and took over, becoming the new Sea Emperor. But even then, the discontent didn’t disappear.

Under pressure, her brother punished her by sending her to guard the Sea Prison. She stayed there for twenty years. The Sea Prison was cold, dark, and silent. For years, she was surrounded only by the screams of the prisoners trapped there. Even after leaving the prison, she was reluctant to show herself to others. She went to the Abyssal Sea alone to search for clues.

She thought that if she could find the real culprit, her sins might lessen, and the families of those who had died because of her might hate her a little less.

But she had never told anyone. Even though she blamed herself, even though she felt so much guilt, deep inside, there was a part of her that still felt wronged.

“I didn’t… do anything wrong.”

A pearl fell with a soft plop, rolling onto the floor. Lan Wu clutched at Ji Lingyue’s robes, choking out. “I told you before that I was…I was a mermaid princess. But the truth is, they all hate me now.”

Ji Lingyue shook her head vehemently. “I like you. And…and Shanye! And Ah Li…”

Lan Wu said sadly, “Ah Li is a half-human, half-dragon hybrid. The dragon clan shunned her, and she’s been wandering alone in the outer sea. Once, when other dragons bullied her, I helped her, and she became my little shadow, always following me around and talking to me. But that only made the other dragons dislike her even more…”

“They’re blind!” Ji Lingyue was furious, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She almost wanted to grab her sword and march to the Kunlun Sea to teach them a lesson. She bit her lip, her expression dark, as she gently wiped the corner of Lan Wu’s eye, trying to cheer her up. “Don’t cry. Look, the pearl you dropped could…could buy a house in the human realm.”

Lan Wu blinked. “Two houses,” she mumbled.

Ji Lingyue paused, then chuckled. “Yes, that’s right. You’re amazing. When we travel through the human realm, we won’t have to worry about money as long as you’re around.”

“But first we need to find…”

“I know,” Ji Lingyue interrupted, her voice serious. “We need to find the person who killed your father. But I don’t care what that stupid prophecy said. It wasn’t your fault, so it wasn’t your fault. The real culprit is still out there, why should you bear the blame?”

“Lan Wu, you’re not the source of all misfortune. So don’t feel guilty for someone else’s sins.”