In the silence, that echo rippling back like waves grew steadily stronger in rhythm — strong enough that even Jun Beiyue and the others, who knew nothing of music, could tell it had a distinct rhythm, one that closely resembled the climax of the Song of Parting Sorrow!

Listening closely, the rhythm carried such sorrow, like the tears of a merfolk weeping pearls beneath the moon — desolate, mournful, and full of grief!

Everyone found themselves drifting into a trance without realizing it, and it wasn’t until the echo faded away completely that they all came back to their senses.

Baili Weisheng wore an expression of complete bewilderment, utterly unaware of what had just happened to him.

He only knew that, in that instant just now, he had recovered all of his Golden Jiao abilities — and even more than that, they seemed even stronger, even more formidable than before. In some vague, indistinct way, he felt as though that power had been the power of the sea itself, something even he himself couldn’t fully command.

Had that ability been awakened from within his own body, or had it been granted to him from outside?

He didn’t know.

Everyone stared at him in astonishment. He furrowed his brow, then immediately closed his eyes again, straining to summon his golden scales once more!

To his astonishment, the instant he called on it, a faint golden glow immediately spread across his entire body, and an illusory image of golden scales appeared!

Though it wasn’t truly solid, tangible golden scale armor, it looked no less impressive than the real thing!

Hadn’t his golden scales vanished after saving his life just now?

This… what in the world was going on? That sound that had triggered the echo just now had been his own voice — and yet, he had never once known how to make a sound like that!

Thinking back on it, it seemed as though it had simply come out of him in that moment of rage, as he roared…

Everyone was baffled. Baili Weisheng, who always seemed to know everything, was for the first time utterly at a loss — completely in the dark about himself.

In the distance, a complicated flicker passed through Meng Wanyue’s eyes as she quietly drew closer. Ziqing, too, slowly moved in. The surroundings fell into a strange, eerie silence.

Further off, Xiong Xiaobao and Henggong Fish hurried back as well.

Yet no one realized that, in truth, it wasn’t silent at all right now.

At this moment, something even more mournful, even more sorrowful than that echo just now, was the sound of Madam Jinjiao’s weeping!

Wretched, heartrending sobs — how could “sorrowful” even begin to describe it?

Madam Jinjiao had already collapsed to the ground, covering her mouth, yet still letting out low, choked sobs. Tears fell from her eyes one after another, and where they struck the ground, they transformed into round, radiant pearls!

For a merfolk’s tears to crystallize into such perfect pearls, the grief had to run so deep it physically pained the heart — nothing less could produce pearls this flawless!

That golden light just now, that roar just now — they were so, so familiar!

For her entire life, she would never, ever forget that golden light, that roar!

That belonged uniquely to her son!

When her son was born, his very first sound hadn’t been a cry — it had been exactly that roar!

That was the bloodline of kings among the Golden Jiao — a roar that only belonged to bloodlines capable of becoming Sea Kings!

Among the entire Golden Jiao clan, centuries might pass without a single one being born with it!

But none of that was what Madam Jinjiao held onto — the only thing she held onto was this single fact: that voice belonged to her son!

It was the one and only mark by which she could recognize her son! The unique, irreplaceable mark!

She had known it — her son was still alive!

For thirty years, no matter how Madam Helian had mocked and ridiculed her, no matter what anyone claimed for certain, she had gritted her teeth and clung to her belief that her son was still alive, that he had to still be alive!

Her child!

For thirty years, with every passing day and month, she had thought of him, longed for him — imagining what he looked like now that he’d grown up, wondering where he might be, wondering whether he knew of his own origins, wondering whether he was living well.

No wonder that sense of familiarity had struck her — those brows, so faintly, unmistakably resembling his father’s; that temperament, so much like his father’s too — a carefree wanderer, quick to laugh and smile, and yet, when he turned serious, fierce enough to strike fear into anyone!

“My son… Mother is here. Mother is right here. Can you see me?”

At last, Madam Jinjiao’s voice broke into sobs, and the moment she let go of her hand covering her mouth, she could no longer hold back — she wept in anguish, unrestrained.

My son, your mother has been waiting right here for you to come home, all this time!