Prologue

My dear Unknown,

My darling child, you should know that your mother was once a particularly free-spirited demoness — one who never liked eating the same food for long, never liked staying in the same place for long, and certainly never liked a life that never changed. But now, your mother has stayed in the same city for a long time, run the same shop for a long time, and stared at the same old face for a long time — by which I mean your father. So what your mother is trying to say is this: nothing in this world is absolutely fixed and unchanging. All things are in constant flux, just as you grow ceaselessly within your mother’s womb, and your mother continues to grow within the womb of this universe. When it comes to all this “change,” learning to adapt, communicate, and create is far more interesting than resisting it, and it gives our lives far greater meaning.

So take a look outside — even though dark clouds block the sun and the waves crash violently, your mother can still sit calmly in the ship’s cabin, perfectly still, and write you this letter with a heart full of happiness. Your father, on the other hand, is running around like a madman — one moment scrambling to catch plates that have been knocked loose, the next using his rear end to brace against a shifting cabinet, bouncing around and cursing up a storm, swearing that if the wind and waves don’t stop, he’s going to dive into the ocean and throw a fit. My child, your father is a dragon of the East Sea, and the ocean should be a docile servant to him, not a queen who flips her mood without warning. Wherever Ao Chi goes, every inch of seawater should be calm and serene, daring not to cause trouble. Unfortunately, the seas we have passed through on this journey have clearly shown him no respect. From New York Harbor across the Atlantic, our chartered vessel, the Poseidon, has been sailing eastward, and barely two days out of port we found ourselves caught in every kind of foul weather imaginable.

The Poseidon is a commercial fishing vessel, and much like its elderly captain, Jack, it has the look of something on the verge of retirement. Which is precisely why your mother was able to negotiate such a low price to convince old Jack to let our whole group aboard.

After bidding farewell to your old bridge-uncle — no, I mean old bridge-grandfather — this ring called the “Golden Crow Soul” now belongs to your mother. It is simply gorgeous, especially when held up to the sunlight. Counting this one, of the twelve missing “Azure Amber” stones, your mother now has seven and a half in hand — “half” because the “Silk Fox Eye” is still under the control of your wicked Uncle Jiayiand Jiayi, so it can’t be counted as fully mine. Truly infuriating, isn’t it — being your mother’s assistant, and yet constantly failing to show any respect. That said, when it came to the shooting contest against King, Uncle Jiayi was far more impressive than your father. As for the various embarrassing things that happened to your father, you can keep that knowledge in your heart, but never, ever bring it up in front of him, or he will most certainly give your little rear end a good spanking.

Today is the first time your mother has taken you out on a boat. I imagine you must be quite delighted — perhaps feeling that our journey is becoming more and more interesting? Just look: your father and I have been tossed and turned across thousands of miles, going up into the heavens and down into the seas, all to collect those twelve stones and settle our debt with those old fellows in the celestial realm. This should, by all accounts, be a serious, exhausting, and even dangerous undertaking — yet no trace of complaint or fear can be found on our faces. The reason is that we are doing something important for the people who matter most to us in our hearts. And so, we do it willingly.

Your mother has always said: it never matters where you go — what matters is who you go with. One day, you too will find the person you’d willingly follow to the ends of the earth.

Even though the road ahead may still be long and filled with danger, even though your mother has barely sold a few cans of tea, even though your mother is right now riding out a storm on this rickety little boat, your mother will still carry on with this journey. Even though your father has the attention span of a hyperactive old man who just won’t stop nagging like a certain wandering monk, even though your godfather Jiu Jue has been shamelessly sneaking old Jack’s whiskey, even though Uncle Jiayi remains stone-faced and unlikeable as ever — as long as they are here, the world feels steady.

My darling, the wind howls outside, and the crashing of the waves grows louder and louder. Honestly, your mother doesn’t know right now where we’re supposed to go. This time, the “Golden Crow Soul” has only given us a single stingy character — Sea.

Quite baffling, isn’t it? To tell you the truth, although your mother is a naturally gifted swimmer, I’m not particularly fond of water — something likely related to an accident I had in my childhood and your Uncle Zi Miao, but that’s a story for another time. So your mother doesn’t especially love the ocean either. But child, the ocean is another world entirely — fish and coral, monsters and spirits, unknown secrets lying hidden at varying depths beneath waters too deep to see the bottom of. Catching a glimpse every now and then isn’t so bad, and if we can get our hands on fresh seafood, all the better. Your mother absolutely loves grilled squid!

It’s just that we’ve already been sailing on this boundless expanse of ocean for a week now. No grilled squid — but there’s been a tiny bit of trouble…

1

“There’s a small issue with the ship — nothing to worry about, everyone.” In the rocking cabin, old Jack clamped his never-lit cigar between his teeth and gave us an apologetic shrug.

“A small issue…” Ao Chi glanced down at the seawater that had already risen past the tops of his feet and said mildly, “You old fool — your ship is leaking.”

“Ah ha ha ha, yes, yes, small issue, small issue!” Old Jack laughed it off, frantically rummaging through the box beside the helm, and finally produced several small paper boxes, which he tossed one to each of us. “One per person.”

If Ao Chi hadn’t grabbed hold of me in time, old Jack would already have met his end under my invisible kick.

Band-aids. He had the nerve to give us each a box of band-aids! Did he actually believe band-aids could save a sinking fishing vessel?!

“I have warned you countless times — abandon any and all large movements!” Ao Chi released me and furiously hurled his box of band-aids at old Jack’s face. “This ship should have been decommissioned ages ago! And you still dare to take on passengers with it?!”

Old Jack wasn’t the least bit angry. He picked up the cigar that had fallen to the floor, put it back in his mouth, his ruddy old face sporting a massive drinker’s nose, and grinned cheerfully: “The Poseidon has gotten on in years. Ships are like people — when they get old, there are bound to be problems. There are quite a few reefs in these waters, and if the ship goes down and you fall in and hit the rocks and get a cut, the band-aids will come in handy. That’s the only benefit I can provide you.”

What kind of logic is that?! You truly get what you pay for. If I hadn’t been lured in by old Jack’s cheap charter fee, I wouldn’t be standing on a sinking wreck right now, staring wordlessly at the ocean.

“The first rule of wandering the world is to never let greed guide you.” Jiayi leaned against the cabin doorway with arms crossed, as though none of this had anything to do with him. “And yet you never learn.”

Reeking of alcohol, Jiu Jue drunkenly clutched two soup spoons and persisted in scooping the water out of the cabin and over the side, slurring as he scooped: “Unity is strength! Fight the disaster together! Keep it up!”

A deep sigh. A sinking ship, a stone-face, and a drunk — life was truly bleak.

I prepared for the worst: knock old Jack unconscious, Ao Chi switches to transport mode, abandon ship, take to the air. (Ao Chi elbows his way into the frame: “Can you explain what ‘transport mode’ means? It’s called Divine Dragon Transformation, thank you very much!”)

“Ha ha, don’t worry, everyone — I’ll do my best to hold on. As long as the engine hasn’t died, we can aim for the nearest island and make landfall.” Old Jack turned back and focused on steering. “Old Jack knows these waters like the back of his hand — have a little faith in me!”

The wind and waves outside grew increasingly savage, and our Poseidon labored painfully through the peaks and troughs. I pressed my face to the water-streaked window and peered out, seeing only a distorted, blurred world beyond. To clarify — I chose old Jack’s vessel not merely because of his low rates, but also because he told me his ship had no fixed route: wherever word came in of salvageable resources, that’s where he’d sail. The rumor he’d received this time said there was a century-old sunken ship in the waters of the Sea God Bay east of New York, and with a bit of luck, it could yield quite a haul. Old Jack also told me this tip was purchased with the last of his savings, and that come what may, he had to go and try his luck. I sympathized with his predicament — an old man still risking his life for money — and add to that a touch of curiosity about sunken ships, plus his promise that if this voyage truly brought in a windfall, it would prove we were his lucky stars, and he would give me the very first treasure he pulled up — and so I had thrown caution to the wind and chosen to sail on his Poseidon. (Shh! I never told Ao Chi and the others that last reason.)

“Are you sure you can make shore?” I studied this focused, round, plump old man who looked just like a giant sea turtle.

He turned his head and gave me a wink, adjusting his battered captain’s hat, which had slipped to one side: “Absolutely!”

Before the word had even faded from the air, a tremendous boom rang out beside my ear, and a massive wave came crashing down upon us like the sky itself was falling…

2

The sky here is never just one color. Seven-hued auspicious clouds interweave with the brilliant robes of the celestial maidens, and every person who lives here need only raise their eyes to behold this landscape forever free of cloud or shadow. Even after tens of thousands of years without change, it is so magnificent as to seem almost unreal.

If someone were to tell you with absolute certainty that there exists in this world a paradise that has only light and no shadow — do not believe them.

Wherever there is light, there are all manner of shadows. That is the real world.

In a lush orchard, a dozen or so round, chubby celestial children were perched high in the trees, deftly plucking ripe fruit and handing it down to the group of celestial maidens below, each holding bamboo baskets. Once the number of divine fruits had been confirmed, the maidens rode clouds away, their light laughter trailing behind them, their flowing skirts leaving a faint, sweet fragrance drifting on the air.

Tomorrow was the birthday of the Celestial Empress, and the heavenly realm would, as was customary, lay out a grand banquet. Deities great and small would come from all four directions bearing lavish gifts; rare treasures and auspicious beasts would gather together — it was without question the liveliest day of the year. Of course, it was also the busiest time for the small celestial beings responsible for celestial logistics, each one so occupied they had to use all four limbs at once, without even the leisure to steal a nap.

A stone path tinged faintly with jade-green wound its way forward, leading from the orchard to the banquet grounds — the shortest route available.

In the distance, a figure came rushing along in a flurry, walking a few steps, then running a few steps, seemingly searching haphazardly for something lost.

Suddenly, a white embroidered shoe caught on the hem of its own long skirt, and with a thud, the hapless creature searching for lost property went sprawling on the ground without a shred of dignity. It must have hurt quite a bit — otherwise those large apricot-shaped eyes would not have instantly brimmed with tears, and those pale-pink lips would not have collapsed into an unsightly line.

“Are you all right?” A soft, unhurried voice floated down from above.

“I am not all right!” The fallen figure didn’t even look up and replied in an irritated tone: “I’m missing one piece of fruit!”

“Lying there on the ground won’t bring it back.” The person standing before her said with a light laugh. “It’s not as though you’re one of the celestial hounds of the heavenly realm.”

Was that not outright mockery? Her mood already at rock bottom, she furrowed her brows, slapped her fist against the ground, and with a whoosh sat bolt upright. She raised her head, ready to deliver a furious scolding: “How dare you! You actually—”

Her anger came to an abrupt halt — the moment she made out the man standing against the light, his long hair loose, his robes unadorned.

“Ah! Konggu deserves to die!” She shot up from the ground as though spring-loaded, bowed deeply, and stammered: “I…I did not know the Divine Lord had come — I have caused…caused much offense!”

“No offense taken. Go and find your fruit.” The man waved a hand and walked on ahead without a sideways glance. After a couple of steps, he turned back again: “Unless you ate it yourself and forgot — your name does rather sound like you’re perpetually hungry.”

Konggu’s face instantly turned as red as an apple. She clenched her fists, gathered her skirt, and rushed to stand before him, saying in all earnestness: “Stealing divine fruit is a grave offense. Konggu has guarded the sacred orchard for many years and considers herself to have been conscientious in her duties, never crossing the line by so much as a single step. I ask the Divine Lord to be more measured in his words!”

“This…are you accusing me of being unmeasured in my speech?” The man’s smile faded, and he furrowed his brows.

Now she’d done it. She was just a small celestial maiden tending the orchard — how could she have been so rude to the Four Seas Water Sovereign, who served directly under the Celestial Emperor? She recalled how a small celestial helper in the Imperial Celestial Kitchen had accidentally offended her superior and been punished to spend an entire year cleaning the dung buckets at the Sacred Beast Mountain. And the one she had now offended was a water deity of far higher standing than the head of the Imperial Celestial Kitchen! Given the severity of her transgression, being sentenced to clean dung buckets for the rest of her life would probably be getting off lightly. Or would he simply order her ground up into feed and tossed into the Sacred Beast Mountain?

All manner of unbearably grim images flashed before Konggu’s eyes, and a drop of cold sweat rolled down her forehead. Oh well — as her master, the Immortal of a Hundred Fruits, had always said: a dead pig doesn’t fear boiling water. If she had to die, then so be it!

She steadied herself and met his gaze directly: “To fabricate something from nothing is itself a want of virtue! The Divine Lord is a pillar of the heavenly realm — he ought to conduct himself with dignity!”

The light in his long, narrow eyes turned cold and sharp. He reached out and took hold of Konggu’s chin, not gently but not roughly, forcing her mouth open, and said with a low, icy laugh: “You have a remarkably bold tongue.”

He…surely he wasn’t going to cut out her tongue and make her a mute for the rest of her life?! Two more drops of cold sweat fell from Konggu’s forehead.

But he released her hand almost immediately. The smile he had deliberately been suppressing returned to his face: “That said, a tongue exists to speak with — otherwise, what use would we have for one?” He patted her on the head and said, “The celestial children in the orchard are quite mischievous. It isn’t the first time they’ve stolen fruit from an inattentive maiden. Go on.”

With that, he left the still-petrified Konggu behind and walked on. His long hair hanging down his back could not be described by any single color — gentle and luminous, like moonlight reflected on water.

This man — how could he be so capricious, so changeable… But then again, as the deity presiding over the rivers, lakes, and seas of all under heaven, water itself was an ever-changing thing. That would make sense. Watching his retreating figure, Konggu pressed a hand to her wildly pounding heart and drew deep, steadying breaths.

He was in no hurry to join the gathering of deities at the banquet. The place was far too noisy — many were already, before the birthday celebration had even begun, showing off openly and obliquely just how precious and one-of-a-kind the gifts they had prepared for the Celestial Empress were. He was too busy. The world was growing increasingly turbulent: endless downpours, rampaging floodwaters, water demons everywhere seizing on the chaos to cause trouble. He had only just rescued Yun Province from a colossal river demon — where was he supposed to find the time to prepare a gift for that woman reclining in her gilded chambers? A small purple wildflower from Yun Province lay in the brocade box nestled within his robes. A child in Yun Province had plucked it for him, joyfully thanking him for subduing the great water-spewing demon, for driving back the black floodwaters that had nearly swallowed everything, for saving Yun Province. The child had walked a long, long way to pick that flower from the highest point in Yun Province.

There could be no more precious gift in the world than this. That wild little blossom surpassed every jewel in the Celestial Empress’s treasure chest.

Thud.

In the mist-veiled immortal forest, there came an odd sound.

He passed between the pavilions and followed the sound, discovering the child sitting by the bank of the Rosy Clouds Lake. The young celestial child sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, idly tossing pebbles into the water.

“Why aren’t you playing with Liao Yuan and the others?” He walked to the child’s side and ruffled the top of his head, but was surprised to discover on that tender, delicate little face a bright red scratch.

The child said nothing, silently watching the still surface of the lake, as quiet as though he were the only person left in the entire world.

“Even ignoring me now, are you?” He smiled and sat down beside the child. “What happened to your face? Did you lose a pretend-fight with one of the cats?”

“I did not lose!” The child puffed out his lips and said in a muffled tone. “I don’t even like pretend-fighting. No matter how many pebbles Liao Yuan and the others threw at me, I didn’t pay them any attention.”

He asked, puzzled: “You and Liao Yuan both study under Immortal Cifu of the Primordial Light Hall — weren’t you close? How did things turn physical?”

“One of the lamp’s Moon Pearls went missing from the Primordial Light Hall, and it was found under my bedding. Immortal Cifu thought I had been playing around and punished me to remain confined to my room for three days to reflect on my behavior. All the other young celestials in the hall are calling me a little thief.”

The child hurled another pebble forcefully into the lake.

“Is Liao Yuan calling you that too?” He asked with curiosity.

The child let out a sniff: “That fellow solemnly asked me whether it was I who stole it.”

“What did you say?” He confiscated the child’s remaining pebbles and, watching a few fish rising to the surface to blow bubbles, said, “Don’t throw any more — you’ll drive the celestial carp in the lake to an early grave.”

The child raised his eyebrows: “I stayed silent. I said nothing.”

“So he took your silence as confirmation that you stole the Moon Pearl, and in order to distance himself from a thief, he joined ranks with the other young celestials in bullying you?” He smiled and shook his head, then drew a single droplet of water from the lake with his fingertip and gently dabbed it on the child’s scratch. “Ah — but if you don’t speak, how is anyone supposed to know the truth?”

“Why should I have to say anything?” The child said with disdain. “Liao Yuan and I have eaten together, slept under the same roof, and trained side by side for more than five years. If something like this still requires me to speak up and explain myself, then I’ve been overestimating this friend.”

“What will you do going forward? Stay silent and ignore them all forever?” He blew softly on the child’s wound; the redness and swelling gradually subsided.

“They were the ones who gave up on me first.” Both childish innocence and a startling maturity appeared simultaneously in the child’s eyes. “I don’t want them anymore either.” He then turned to look at him and asked, “Uncle Shangshan, why do you have so many friends? Even Immortal Cifu, who has such a bad temper, often praises you in front of us and says you’re a good person. I’m sure no one has ever thrown stones at you.”

A string of bubbles rose to the surface of the lake; a few celestial carp foolishly leaped out, shattering the tranquility.

He thought for a moment, then stuck out his tongue and asked the child: “What is this?”

“A tongue, of course!” The child replied, baffled.

“If we assume as a matter of course that no explanation is needed — that others can understand us without any words — then why would the Creator bother giving us tongues?” He pinched the child’s chin. “A tongue is there to speak with. Don’t be so quick to discard yours. Do you understand, little Zi Miao?”

His smile and the child’s bemused expression were reflected together on the rippling water, gradually spreading outward and away…

3

Zi Miao… I thought I saw Zi Miao… but it was so indistinct.

I snapped my eyes open and shot upright. The hazy, dreamlike scene before me was replaced by a head wearing an unfashionable straw hat and an equally unfashionable white surgical mask. Looking downward, a loose khaki work suit encased a figure of indeterminate build, and a pair of equally unfashionable black rubber boots housed two large feet, their soles caked with wet sand. A big man, not saying a word, crouched before me.

I had absolutely no idea who he was! But why was I gripping his hand so tightly?! Also — where was I?

The sand beneath me was fine and smooth; a pale yellow beach stretched off in both directions, separating a calm ocean from a rough little coastal town not far away. A large white iron sign had been lashed tightly to a weathered rock with wire, and the rust-mottled sign bore only a single word: DEW!

Below the rock, Jiu Jue — soaked through to the skin — was sitting atop a vigorously struggling large sea turtle, rubbing his head and looking left and right, utterly disoriented.

Time to rewind. What I remembered: the massive wave hit, the ship broke apart, we all fell into the water, I swam and swam but kept failing to reach the surface. Then Ao Chi came and grabbed me, a powerful and strange current wrapped around us and dragged us to the center of a whirlpool. After that, I swallowed water — and then I lost consciousness.

Hmm, where on earth had Ao Chi gotten to? And Jiayi?

“Let go of that woman! Pervert!”

A familiar voice rang out from behind me just in time. A small, terrified swordfish was being wielded as a weapon by Ao Chi, its sharp upper jaw pointed directly at the hat-man’s forehead.

The hat-man shrugged, pointed at my hand, and shook his head.

Ao Chi looked down and only then realized it was I who was holding on to the man and refusing to let go. With a sea star perched on his head, he thrust the biological weapon even closer and bellowed: “Not knowing how to refuse also makes you half a pervert! Let go or I’ll shoot!”

Shoot… did Ao Chi absolutely have to poke me in my sense of humor like that?!

I released that warm, large hand and stood up, then peeled the persistent sea star from Ao Chi’s head and asked in astonishment: “Where on earth did you find a swordfish that big?”

Ao Chi gave me a sidelong glance: “The whirlpool separated us. By the time I swam to shore, this stupid fish saw its chance and attacked me — so I caught it.” His gaze shifted to the hat-man, and he said coldly: “Then I saw this fellow crouching on the beach with you holding his hand.”

Before his words had even faded, a rich, fragrant smell drifted over on the breeze and made my mouth water instantly. That smell — it was grilled squid!

The famished members of our group all turned their heads in unison to follow the scent. Jiayi was quietly crouching before a bonfire, in perfectly high spirits, grilling a squid.

“You’re awake?” Realizing he had become the center of everyone’s attention, he walked over to us, munching away on the squid. “It would taste even better with a little salt.”

I looked at him calmly: “Am I correct in understanding that, in the critical moments when the rest of us were in mortal peril with our fates unknown, you — having woken up first — abandoned us and went off to grill squid on your own?”

“I never blacked out at all. Your lung capacity is just too low.” He then looked at Ao Chi. “I have never seen a dragon with such terrible swimming technique. Any slower and that swordfish would have jabbed you right in your distinguished rear end.” He finished by casting a pitying glance at Jiu Jue, who was staggering dizzily toward us on all fours. “A man who was rescued from the sea by a turtle — I imagine it’ll be quite difficult for you to hold your head up with any pride going forward.”

“Kid, have you been poisoned by that squid? You sure are talkative.”

“Why do you insist on bringing up rear ends?”

“Don’t you dare insult that turtle — it is an elderly creature!”

Jiayi’s sunglasses were instantly swarming with furious faces and fists.

In the split second before this ill-timed brawl broke out, a sharp object sliced through the air and came hurtling toward us with malicious intent.

Though still somewhat dizzy, fortunately my body could still move freely — several bullet holes appeared in the ground where we had been standing an instant before we leaped aside. A strange red smoke seeped from the bullet holes and curled upward like slender little snakes.

This was no ordinary ammunition. That faint, metallic smell — it was the scent of pure silver mixed with cinnabar and the fresh blood of certain other creatures: a deadly curse-formula. I had engaged sorcerers in battle countless times over the centuries and knew this smell all too well. In earlier times, they would coat this mixture onto blades, swords, bows, and crossbows; but now, with technology so advanced, many sorcerers simply loaded it directly into bullets. Once it struck a slow-moving demon, it was virtually guaranteed to find its mark, making capture effortless.

Behind us, three dark figures leaped from a cluster of jagged rocks and surged toward us like a stormcloud, charging with fierce momentum.

The long-overlooked hat-man grabbed my hand in one swift motion, leaped onto the back of that enormous sea turtle, and said in a low voice: “Jack — go!”

Before I could so much as blink, that massive rock was hurtling toward me at lightning speed — no wait, the sea turtle beneath my feet was simply moving too fast. But why were we charging straight toward the rock? We were going to crash into it! We were going to crash into it! My head was going to split open!

I squeezed my eyes shut in despair…

4

All sorts of babbling, incomprehensible sounds reached my ears, mixed in with some words I could actually understand.

“How much for this one?”

“Blub glub blub glub glub!”

“Two days?! That’s too expensive — how about a day and a half?”

“Blub glub blub glub glub!”

“All right! Deal!”

I must not have been knocked to my death! After mentally bracing myself to accept any and all disasters, I cautiously lifted one eyelid — and froze.

A place lit by flickering lights, resembling a bustling market, spread out before me. All manner of colorful little stalls were arranged in a row along a narrow stretch of beach, and behind every stall was a vendor — not a single one resembling a human being. A creature with a human upper body and a fish’s tail shook a length of shimmering fabric in its hands, calling out loudly for customers. A great crab with speckled legs spun its round, black, protruding eyes, holding up a coral stand on which perched a small orange crab, which was cheerfully calling out to a human middle-aged man passing by: “Congratulations and prosperity, red envelopes welcome!” There was also a shark, gaping its great mouth wide open, its fins having transformed into arms and legs, brokering a deal with a young woman over a pearl of extraordinary luster. In short, every person here — regardless of age or gender — wore a bright and open smile on their face, and from none of them did I sense the slightest hint of ill intent.

Beyond the market’s edge, gentle blue waves lapped softly at the golden sand, and the sky was dotted with white clouds. Compared to all the storms and overcast skies I had witnessed before, this place felt like an entirely beautiful new world.

At that moment, I was slumped in a chair fashioned from an enormous shell. Beside me, a few limp-limbed octopuses shuffled past with packs on their backs, making soft, grumbling sounds. I shook my head, slapped myself firmly on the cheeks, and at that moment a familiar scorching heat coursed along my waist — just as the ship had started leaking, I had taken precautions and carefully tied the brocade pouch containing the stones to my waist. I quickly untied the pouch, pulled out the blazing, golden ring, and took one look at it — I leaped to my feet with excitement. The inscription on it had vanished. This meant the eighth stone I needed was close at hand.

Bright light fell slantwise from above. I raised this little sun of a ring — the Golden Crow Soul — and looked through its center. The person who had dragged me here for no apparent reason was standing perfectly straight on the beach, a wooden crate strapped to his back, a dopey sea turtle lying at his feet, face toward the sea, as though waiting for something. Out on the distant horizon, a small black dot was slowly growing larger.

I pocketed the stone and darted over to him in a few strides: “Care to explain?”

“DEW is the name of this market. The reason so many people come to the Sea God Bay with hope in their hearts is that there is an unnamed island here, and on it, a market that convenes once every ten years. Each market lasts exactly one day — from one sunrise to the next — which is why it’s called DEW: the Dew Market.” The hat-man stood with arms crossed, staring straight ahead. “As you can see, all the vendors here are not human — every last one is a demon of this sea. The buyers, however, are all ordinary humans.”

I shot him a cold sideways look: “I only want to know one thing — who are you?” I then cast a glance at the yawning sea turtle, barely restraining the urge to skewer it on a spit — three old demons and a foul little Daoist, and none of us had noticed that the crazed old Captain Jack was actually a giant sea turtle!

“No need for self-reproach. Jack has been with me for so long that it has lost most of its demonic aura, and on top of that it drinks heavily, so the smell of alcohol on it is overpowering. Once it takes human form, it’s very difficult for others to detect anything unusual.” He seemed to have seen right through my thoughts and remarked as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “Furthermore, had it not been in your nature, Jack would never have managed to get you on board so easily.”

“Don’t act as if you know me well.” I raised my chin and gave a cold sniff.

“How one’s outward show of toughness can never quite soothe the inner shame.” The hat-man actually let out a little laugh. “A wood-spirit cultivated from a rare tree, originally from the summit of Fulong Mountain, age unknown, blood type unknown, Sagittarius. After years of wandering the world, she settled in the city of Wang Chuan and opened a small shop called Bu Ting. Has worked as proprietress, sold sweets, run a guesthouse, with income that fluctuates considerably. Notoriously harsh to her staff, lazy, a gossip, loves gold, her catchphrase being ‘All gold is mine!’ Married, currently pregnant. Husband hails from the Dragon Clan of the East Sea, and has a notably checkered past — in every way a match made by heaven.”

I lowered my head, my expression dark with resentment. Oh, something was blazing inside me, wasn’t it? If I were to release it, this man before me would be reduced to ashes, wouldn’t he?

“Ah, and there’s one detail I forgot.” The apparently suicidal hat-man suddenly recalled something, and turned his head toward me. Within those long, narrow eyes above the mask, a light like flowing water passed through. “The Four Seas Water Sovereign Zi Miao of the celestial realm used his own elemental essence to grant you your human form. By that reasoning, he would be considered your mentor.”

He…he even knew about that ancient affair?! A drop of cold sweat rolled down my forehead.

The hat-man lowered his head and leaned in to sniff at my hair, then laughed: “Still has Zi Miao’s scent.”

If I had a swordfish in my hands right now, I would absolutely use it as a weapon to jab his rear end — but since I didn’t, I could only grab his lapels and demand through clenched teeth: “Who exactly are you?”

He pointed over his shoulder to the market: “The market manager. Occasionally I also join the vendors.”

“And?” I roared.

“A demon who has done much evil.” His eyes narrowed further as he smiled. “Why else would those people shoot at me? They’re sorcerers who make it their mission to eliminate demons.”

“You have no demonic aura — not even a trace.” I yanked him toward me and raised my fist. “Tell me the truth!”

“Someone’s coming.” He pulled my hand away and made a quieting gesture.

Woo-woo! A horn blast cut across the sea. I turned my head, and a black yacht was slicing through the water, racing forward through churning white foam — and in an instant it had reached the shore.

Two slightly hunched men in conspicuous red suits herded a man and a woman off the speedboat and drove them toward us like ducks being chased.

One of the red suits walked up to the hat-man and said nothing, merely holding up eight fingers.

The hat-man nodded and murmured to himself: “Two fewer than last time.”

I studied the eight young men and women before me closely: both Westerners and Easterners, the youngest around thirteen, the oldest no more than twenty — each physically robust and presentable, and each utterly expressionless. From the moment they disembarked to the moment they came to stand before us, not one of the eight had made a single sound; their gazes weren’t even focused on us, as though we existed in an entirely different plane of existence.

“All right. You two may go.” The hat-man waved the red-suited men away.

With a respectful bow in his direction, the two men — who might as well have been dressed as clowns — hopped back into the speedboat and vanished from the sea’s surface in the blink of an eye.

The hat-man’s gaze moved from one young face to the next in turn, while these people maintained their cold, impenetrable demeanor, as though rejecting any and all connection with the outside world.

“Based on your level of cultivation, would you classify me as a bad person or a good person?” He suddenly asked me.

“A contemptible one,” I replied.

“That kind of crude language certainly didn’t come from Zi Miao. He was such a gentle and refined child.” The hat-man smiled. “I know what you’re looking for.”

My heart gave a startled jolt.

He undid the buttons of his outer garment, exposing his chest. Set into his very flesh was a tongue-shaped translucent crystal stone, dove-egg sized, as blue as seawater.

“Not only you — over all these years, the number of people who have sought the ‘Fish King’s Tongue’ has been far, far too many to count.”

I stared blankly at that mottled stone. The Fish King’s Tongue — this was the eighth stone I was looking for?!

The hat-man fastened his garment almost immediately, not allowing me even one more look.

“You went to such lengths to lure me here — surely not just to show me your chest muscles?” I gave a cold laugh. “I’ll be frank: I have traveled over mountains and seas for the sake of this one stone. I will not give up until I have it.”

“So are you intending to do away with me too, just like those sorcerers out there?”

“If you truly have done much evil, I don’t mind ridding the world of the trouble.”

The hat-man looked into my eyes: “Your heart is rather hoping I’m thoroughly irredeemable. Isn’t it?”

He’d hit the mark. I had said before — no matter what form these stones take, they have long since merged as one with the beings they seal. Every stone I have obtained so far represented the end of such a being. I truly had, in a self-serving way, hoped that every remaining sealed person would be a villain deserving of elimination — just like You Qu and that crazed, jealous woman. That way, I wouldn’t have to feel so conflicted and guilty.

Seeing that I made no reply, he asked again: “Would you like to know what kind of business I enjoy most?”

“Human trafficking,” I said, glancing at those eight people.

Selling human children to sea demons was by no means unheard of — there was no shortage of sea demons that enjoyed consuming human flesh.

Thud!

He swung the wooden crate from his back and set it down before me, then tossed over a key. “Open it and see.”

This probably wasn’t a trap. If he had wanted to harm me, he could have done so while I was unconscious.

I thought for a moment, picked up the key, inserted it into the lock, turned it to the right — click — the lock opened.

I slowly lifted the lid of the old wooden crate. A row of identical glass bottles sat neatly in the grooved slots inside, and within each bottle was stored…a tongue. A complete… human tongue.

A chill ran up my spine. I suppressed the urge to retch and said quietly: “This…is your business?”

Reflected in the smooth glass of the bottles were the man’s ice-cold eyes and his cheerful smile: “Correct. Every single one of the people before you agreed to exchange their tongue for something they wanted.”

Truly the deeds of a demon, exactly as I had expected.

He snapped the crate shut with a bang, strapped it back on, and turned to walk toward those eight young people.

“Stop!” I called out sharply. “You went to all this trouble to draw me here — was it to show off your business dealings? Or to demonstrate that even when committing such outrages against heaven and human decency, no one can do anything to you?”

“Ha, I simply wanted to give a word of warning to those like yourself who covet the Fish King’s Stone. Rouse my anger, and not only will you fail to obtain the stone — you may well find you can’t hold on to what’s already yours.” His tone wasn’t severe, yet it carried an air of intimidation all its own.

Every last trace of my guilt vanished. This one, it seemed, was also no innocent.

“Everything of yours is mine — and everything of mine remains mine.” I stood up, addressing his retreating back. “Don’t you know that’s also one of my catchphrases? Today, I’m taking the stone — and I’m taking these people too!”

He smiled, then in a sudden motion spun around — and his body dissolved into a great surge of water. Like a whirlpool, it swept those bewildered young people up within it, rose off the ground, and shot straight toward the sea.

I charged after him into the ocean and caught hold of one child’s foot within that rushing current.

Cunning creature — deliberately separating me from Ao Chi and the others. Was he that certain I couldn’t beat him?

Tumbling bubbles filled my vision; I couldn’t make out anything. My body sank like a stone, dragged downward of its own accord. The light around me grew dimmer and dimmer; beyond the glug-glug of the water, all I could hear was a ringing in my ears.

5

I had no idea how many meters I’d sunk before the pitch-black world suddenly opened up and brightened, and the body that had been weighed down by the water’s pressure instantly became light. The overwhelming force from before seemed to transform into a great, gentle hand that cradled me, floating and drifting, letting me settle like a feather onto a smooth, flat surface.

I climbed to my feet and found myself standing on a circular expanse of floor smooth as a mirror. Looking out in all directions, it was nearly half the size of a football field. Through the entirely transparent floor, vast coral bloomed like flowers; glittering shellfish were inlaid throughout; fish of every color and shape swam to and fro. Surrounding it on all sides, the deep blue seawater flowed obediently — yet not a single drop fell onto this floor. The entire space was like a treasure hall of the dragon palace: breathtakingly beautiful.

But what were those enormous open white shells on the ground? Arranged in a neat circle, they were like rows of mouths that could not be closed; a violet luminescence swirled and drifted within each shell, utterly eerie in a way that defied easy description.

I counted roughly — there were several dozen shells in all. What struck me as strange was that eight of them were half-closed. Sensing that something was wrong, I hurried over to one of the half-closed shells and peered inside: sure enough, one of the children from earlier was standing within, somewhat panicked, clawing at the rim of the shell, mouth open in silent ah, ah cries.

The gap in the shell was wide enough for the child to crawl through, and I tried to reach in and pull the child out — but the moment my fingers touched the shell’s rim, they struck something like an invisible, unyielding wall. It was impossible to go any further.

“Welcome to the Sea Prison. Without a specific incantation, no one can get out — and no one can get in.” The hat-man’s voice sounded from behind me.

“You took their tongues, and now you’re imprisoning them as well?” I drew a breath and turned to face him.

He had changed his clothing — the straw hat, mask, and work suit had all vanished, replaced by a loose, plain-colored robe. A cascade of moonlight-pale hair hung loose behind him; long, narrow eyes held a smile impossible to read. Each step he took was possessed of an elegant, unhurried grace, like flowing water and drifting clouds.

No matter how striking one’s appearance, it could not diminish the ugliness within. My mind was at war with itself — half urging: take this wretch down; the other half countering: wait — this person is not a demon!

“I’ve heard that the proprietress of Bu Ting may seem vicious on the surface, but is in truth extraordinarily kind-hearted. You want to save them?” He came to stand before me, reached out and lifted a strand of my hair, looking down at me. “Once a demoness becomes pregnant, both her elemental energy and spiritual power become diminished. And here you are now — isolated and without allies, in my domain. Things look rather grim.”

“Save your concern.” I knocked his claw away in one stroke. “I still have a perfectly good set of teeth. I can bite you to death if need be.”

“Ha ha — no need for such dramatics.” He laughed aloud, produced three silver pistols from his sleeve, and set them side by side on the ground between us. “I don’t enjoy bullying women, so I’ll give you a chance. We’ll play a game. You win, and you take all these people with you. You lose, and I’m afraid you’ll be buried here as well.”

“How do we play?” I slanted a glance at those three guns, their cold gleam concealing deadly intent.

“Only one of the three guns has a bullet. We take turns choosing, and fire at the other person. Simple enough?” He sat cross-legged and made an inviting gesture. “Ladies first.” He then added an afterthought: “I forgot to mention — this particular bullet is no ordinary thing. It is specially designed to deal with non-human entities. It would shatter not only a demon’s body but even the soul of an immortal. Are you certain you want to play? If you forfeit, I won’t make things difficult for you — I’ll send you back to shore unharmed.”

Was this journey to collect the stones about to become a journey to meet my death…? The trouble this time was worse than anything I’d faced before. If I were on my own, given my temperament, I would charge at him without a moment’s hesitation — but with a little one inside me right now…I was torn. So very torn!

Suddenly, a stirring came from within my abdomen, as though whoever was in there had given me a kick. This…this was the first time I had ever felt a kick! A complex wave of happiness instantly washed over me. Yet amid that happiness, the thought came: was this Unknown Child throwing a tantrum at me? Over that single momentary hesitation on my part?!

Well — fair enough. The proprietress of Bu Ting, dear mother of Unknown Child, had never been the sort to hide in her shell like a turtle.

“I said it before: everything of yours is mine.” I took a deep breath, also sat cross-legged, picked up the middle gun, and leveled it at his brow. “Every person ought to face punishment for the wrongs they have committed.”

I pulled the trigger. An empty click.

“Gutsy!” He gave a light clap, picked up a gun, and aimed it at my head. “I agree with what you said. Every person ought to face punishment for their wrongs.”

Click! Also empty.

I sat perfectly still, giving a cold laugh.

But my heart could not be calm… You absolute—! The back of my robe was soaked, all right?! Even wearing this high-grade heat- and cold-resistant qipao!

“Indeed — Heaven has evidently given me the opportunity to be the one to punish you.” I picked up the third gun and aimed it at him. “I do hope you didn’t cheat by making sure none of the three had bullets.”

He furrowed his brows and suddenly rose to his feet — then, like lightning, produced another gun from behind his back and aimed it at me.

Cheating!!

I sidestepped in the same instant and, without any hesitation, pulled the trigger.

Bang! A loud gunshot rang out, and burning heat and sparks poured from the barrel of my gun, hurtling toward that despicable wretch before me…

6

“I heard you’re to be married?”

Inside the feed house in Sacred Beast Mountain — the place where fodder was specially prepared for divine animals — Konggu was rolling up her sleeves to pour feed into an enormous wooden vat and stir it vigorously.

“You’re about to become the Lady of the Western Waters River Deity. You must be very pleased?”

“Would the Divine Lord kindly step aside? I have so much work and can’t get it all done!” Konggu pushed past him, who was standing in the doorway, and carried in another great sack of feed from outside.

He flicked his finger; a single water droplet struck the back of her hand. Her grip loosened, and the feed sack tumbled down, its contents of grain and fruit flesh scattering all over the floor.

“Wasting food is not good, you know. The Divine Lord ought to conduct himself with more care.” Konggu surveyed the mess on the ground, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and crouched down to clean it up. There wasn’t a trace of anger in her — even though her mood was dreadful.

Come to think of it, the Celestial Empress really was a petty woman. Konggu had done no more than speak up on behalf of her dear friend Bing Li, saying “the petals from the morning are no different from the petals at midday” — and for that, she had been transferred from the Hundred Fruits Garden to Sacred Beast Mountain to do hard labor. After all, they were only flower petals picked for infusing the water-plants — yet because the petals that her little friend had picked happened to be the midday ones, she was to be subjected to an unwarranted caning. The Celestial Empress was far too unfeeling!

Yet that was the Celestial Empress she was talking about — the one who held sway over the fates of every celestial maiden in the heavenly realm. With one word, Konggu had gone from celestial maiden to animal keeper; with one more word, she was to leave the heavenly realm entirely and go to that wilderness on the banks of the Western Waters, teeming with venomous snakes and insects, and be married to a bald old man.

But what could be done? She could hardly send frail little Bing Li to that dreadful place. The Celestial Empress had made it clear: either Bing Li or Konggu — the Western Waters River Deity had submitted petitions for the imperial gift of a marriage match multiple times now, and it was time to honor this loyal minister’s wish.

“Are you truly going to become the River Deity’s wife?” He leaned against the door frame, watching her bustle tirelessly.

“The marital destinies of celestial maidens are all arranged by the Celestial Empress. My opinion doesn’t matter.” She collected the scattered fruits one by one, and those still-bright apricot-shaped eyes betrayed neither sorrow nor joy. “Perhaps being the River Deity’s wife won’t be so bad after all.”

“Once you go, it will be very difficult for you to return to the heavenly realm.”

“Never mind — I like places where there is water. Rivers, lakes, seas, the mortal world — it may well be no worse than the heavenly realm.” She said with a smile. “I’ve heard that the Western Waters River Deity, though not much to look at, has a rather good temperament.”

He was quiet for a long while, then said: “Perhaps I could try to ask the Celestial Empress to call off this marriage.”

“Please don’t!” She blurted out immediately, entirely resolute. “The Celestial Empress is already displeased with the Divine Lord over the matter of the birthday gift — if you were to incur her displeasure again on account of someone as insignificant as me, I fear it would only breed trouble in the days to come.”

With that, she bowed to him with great solemnity: “Konggu has been fortunate to know the Divine Lord for over ten years. I have been honored beyond my station to have been treated as a friend by the Divine Lord, and I am deeply grateful. From this day forth, no matter where Konggu may find herself, the kindness and friendship of the Divine Lord shall never be forgotten for all eternity. Please, take your leave.”

He furrowed his brows, ever so slightly: “Treated as a friend?”

“Konggu knows she is reaching well above herself.” Her head dipped even lower; her words were spoken with great sincerity. “Whatever the case may be, Konggu is always grateful that the heavenly realm has someone as upright, impartial, and compassionate toward all living beings as the Divine Lord.”

He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Not cursing me for lacking virtue anymore?”

Konggu let out an involuntary laugh. How could she ever forget the very first time she and he had met?

“Very well. I am leaving.” He turned away. “Take good care of yourself, my friend.”

He left the feed house and walked with a heavy heart along the mountain path. On both sides, the pens of rare birds and exotic beasts erupted sporadically in all manner of cries, stirring up a vague, sourceless agitation.

From the very day he had come to know her, this reckless and bold little celestial maiden — utterly at odds with the atmosphere of the heavenly realm — had proven impossible to drive from his heart.

He had watched more than once from a distance as she chased mischievous celestial children around the orchard — those little rascals loved to tease this careless, absentminded maiden. By the bank of the Rosy Clouds Lake, she secretly practiced embroidery, her fingers covered in pinholes; he had looked at the phoenix she had embroidered that ended up looking like a pheasant and honestly advised her to give up on needlework — she didn’t listen, persisting regardless, and a very long time later, a perfectly rendered embroidered phoenix handkerchief was born; beaming with delight, she had run to find him and spent a long while deliberately showing it off, waving the handkerchief before his eyes. She was bold and also loyal — whenever a sister in the compound was bullied by a celestial official, she was the first to step in and seek justice, and she paid no small price for it both openly and in quiet ways. Her every movement and every action he had taken in fully, and his feelings for her had undergone a quiet transformation. He could not have said when exactly it began, but whenever he was in the heavenly realm, his gaze would instinctively search for her presence. If she wasn’t there, he would feel a faint, nagging emptiness; if she was there, he would find himself drawn irresistibly to her side, beginning some perfectly natural conversation. They talked of many things — the scenery of the heavenly realm, the joys and sorrows of the mortal world, the fish in the Rosy Clouds Lake…

This feeling — he had never known anything like it before.

Ten years in the heavenly realm had passed in the blink of an eye. So quickly that he hadn’t even had time to prepare, and already Konggu was about to be married.

He walked faster and faster. Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps came from behind him, along with Konggu’s breathless voice: “Divine Lord!”

Like a pebble dropping into a still, calm lake — an inexplicable hope splashed up, like ripples of water.

He turned around and watched the figure rushing toward him — stumbling, once again, on her own skirt.

“Looking for something you’ve lost again?” He crouched down and looked at her lying on the ground, half-smiling.

“Divine Lord…I…I…” Konggu looked up at him, her apricot eyes brimming with tears.

“You’ve changed your mind?” His bleak mood suddenly showed the first signs of lifting.

“I have heard that in the waters of the mortal world, there is a ‘Fish King’ that once every ten years comes ashore and wanders abroad in human form. The Fish King is by nature kind and cheerful, and greatly enjoys conversing with whomever it encounters; when it departs, it will kiss the person on the forehead. And this kiss can bring a person endless happiness and joy — those fortunate enough to receive the Fish King’s kiss will live their entire lives free of sorrow.” She couldn’t even pick herself up off the ground, and the words came out all at once. “Divine Lord, you preside over all the rivers, lakes, and seas under heaven — do you know whether this Fish King truly exists?”

His expression shifted slightly, but he composed himself quickly. “You ran all this way,” he asked her, “just to ask me this?”

She nodded emphatically.

“I have only heard the legends. I have never encountered any such Fish King.” He stood up. “I wish you all happiness in your upcoming marriage. Farewell.”

“Thank you, Divine Lord.” Konggu’s apricot eyes curved into crescents.

He turned and walked away, never looking back. A dull ache settled in his heart; he felt the urge to flare up at someone, yet had no idea who he should be angry with. A grand celestial deity, and yet he had managed to exhaust his own peace of mind for no good reason.

What he could never have anticipated was this: it would be the last time he and Konggu ever met.

7

The Northern Mist Sea. Zhu Xu Island.

The severed limbs and heads of demons and monsters reeked with a nauseating stench, carpeting the entire surface of the sea. Blood of every color had turned the once-cerulean world into a foul, filthy dyepot. Fish large and small floated up from below, bellies turned to the sky, innocent victims of it all.

A savage black miasma hung like a thick curtain wrapped tightly around Zhu Xu Island. Strings of bubbles churned up from beneath a sea like a living hell, and wave after wave of grotesquely shaped sea demons surged up from the deep, weapons in hand, screaming and hurtling themselves toward their target, one after another.

Crystal-clear arrows flew with pinpoint precision from a bow wreathed in shimmering light. Each arrow felled several demons at once; the power was extraordinary. The sea demons at the front were torn apart by the arrows’ force. For a moment, the remaining monsters were seized by dread and retreated temporarily into the sea. After all, Zhu Xu Island was already completely surrounded, and the sea demons’ numbers were vast — strike down one wave, and two more would rise to take their place. As for the Four Seas Water Sovereign: no matter how formidable, he was still only one person, and the single young aide at his side was of little practical use. Being overwhelmed was only a matter of time.

At the center of Zhu Xu Island, deep within a rocky cavern, he leaned against the dripping wet stone wall. His face was pale; his breathing labored.

The demons beneath the Northern Mist Sea had gathered in force and in a single night swallowed whole the surrounding villages — not one person, young or old, man or woman, had been spared, the scene too grim to look upon. This mob of miscreants had also declared their intention to overrun all under heaven and strike directly at the celestial realm. The Celestial Emperor’s fury was great, and he commanded this divine soldier to go and subdue them.

But things had not unfolded as anyone had imagined. The sea demons were too numerous, and their poison miasma provided powerful cover — not a force to be taken lightly. The troops he had brought were few to begin with, and one by one they had fallen; now only a single young celestial was left to fight at his side. Three hours ago, he had released his jade crane to return to the heavenly realm and summon reinforcements. Yet reinforcements had yet to arrive.

“Uncle Shangshan, there are simply too many sea demons. If we keep fighting head-on, I fear we’ll suffer greatly.” Zi Miao came running into the cave, his face slick with sweat. “While the sea demons have drawn back temporarily, let me use water arrows to open a path for you, and you can seize the chance to break out!”

He looked at this young boy — fearless, resolute of expression — and smiled. “Little Zi Miao has grown up.”

Without realizing it, decades had slipped by. The once-young celestial child had grown into a graceful young man who had also become one of the celestial officers under his command. He had always harbored a particular fondness for Zi Miao — not only because the child was diligent, eager to learn, and exceptionally gifted, but also because even at such a young age, he already possessed a heart of pure goodness and integrity. The beauty in the passage of time could only be seen in young people such as these, who were still growing. Unlike himself — forever unchanged, forever still. The heavenly realm was likewise: forever peaceful, forever orderly — yet if you peeled back that surface, what would you find beneath? The Celestial Emperor had long since ceased to govern in earnest; the Celestial Empress cared only for her own looks; the various deities had split into factions of veiled enmity and rivalry. A hidden “sickness,” lurking beneath the surface, had quietly begun to spread through the heavenly realm.

“Uncle Shangshan, you cannot be harmed!” Zi Miao rose to his feet; a bow formed from water materialized in his palm. “I’ll go draw them off!” Before the words had even left his mouth, the young man seemed to remember something, reached into his garments, pulled out a white jade waist token about three inches square, and pressed it into his hand. “This fell from you in the chaos. Uncle Shangshan — you must love this person a great deal?”

He was momentarily taken aback. On that jade token, which had accompanied him for so many years — both front and back — not a single surface remained uncarved. The same name, over and over: Konggu.

From the time they had first met to the time they had parted, in every sleepless, tossing-and-turning night, he would take out a small knife and carve her name into the token. Each stroke was cut deep, as though only by doing so could he feel even a slight measure of relief.

By now, there was no space left on the token to carve another word.

“Zi Miao!” He called out to Zi Miao, who had been running toward the cave mouth. In the moment Zi Miao turned back, he released a current of air from his palm, which gathered the child into a transparent bubble.

“Uncle Shangshan, what are you doing?” Zi Miao pounded furiously on the inside of the bubble.

“My spiritual power is only enough to send one person away from here.” He waved his hand, and the bubble vanished with a whoosh.

There. Now the very last of his strength was nearly spent. Through the roiling sound of crashing waves, the shrieking of the sea demons drew steadily closer.

He drew a deep breath, tightened his grip on the bow in his hand, and strode with great steps toward the mouth of the cave.

8

The Celestial Emperor held a banquet to celebrate the celestial army’s successful annihilation of every last demon in the Northern Mist Sea.

The Water Army’s Shangshan — the greatest contributor to that victory — claimed illness and did not attend.

By the bank of the Rosy Clouds Lake, battered and covered in wounds, he lay on the soft grass, a lotus leaf draped over his face.

This life had been snatched back from the brink. Even though he had thrown everything into the battle, he had still lost to that swarm of sea demons as dense as locusts. If Zi Miao hadn’t arrived in time with reinforcements, he would likely be nothing more than scattered debris on the Northern Mist Sea by now.

He no longer had any interest in looking into who had covertly intercepted his jade crane when it flew back seeking aid, with the cold intent of leaving him to fight and die alone. Nor did he have any interest in going to that lively banquet to kneel three times and bow nine times in fulsome gratitude while receiving the Celestial Emperor’s commendation.

When all was said and done, he was simply someone who had been abandoned.

In the battle of Zhu Xu Island — had the Celestial Emperor truly never received his call for reinforcements? Or was it that the Celestial Emperor, increasingly despairing and cowardly in the face of sea demons, had decided that rather than risk his divine troops on a rescue mission, it would be better to abandon the losing general and keep more men to protect his own safety? After all, the reinforcements Zi Miao had brought were not from under the Celestial Emperor’s command — they were from the Old Man Under the Moon’s forces, with whom he had a reasonably good relationship. The implications therein, each party understood in their own heart.

And then there was that foolish woman, who had also let him go without the slightest reluctance. Decades of longing and sleepless nights on her account, and she had felt none of it.

Ridiculous.

The celestial carp in the lake continued to blow their foolish bubbles. In truth, these creatures were the most gossip-hungry beings in all of heaven, exchanging tidbits in their own language every single day.

He could understand the language of fish. And so he heard news of someone’s death.

“I heard from Immortal Haitang that the Western Waters River Deity came with tears streaming down his old face to report a death — he said his wife has passed away, blub blub blub.”

“His wife? Isn’t that Immortal Konggu, who used to come and feed us fish food, blub blub blub?”

“Indeed. That place is nothing but a savage wasteland teeming with venomous insects and pestilent vapors — someone who didn’t grow up there simply can’t adapt, blub blub blub.”

“Such a pity. She would have been better off marrying even the gold-armored deity who guards the Celestial Gate rather than going so far away to the Western Waters, blub blub blub.”

He turned over. The lotus leaf fell to the ground and was scooped up by the wind into the lake; the gossiping celestial carp scattered in all directions.

All of a sudden, he found he rather despised this world.

An unnoticed shadow drifted across from the lake’s surface, soundlessly, and settled upon him…

He spent less and less time in the heavenly realm. He had developed a love of fishing, and would often sit by some random river or stretch of sea in the mortal world and stay there for many days at a time.

The rain on this occasion had been falling for many days. He sat at the ocean’s edge, his attention fixed on the hook in the water.

“Divine Lord! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Several celestial officers came stumbling and scrambling to him. “Heavy rains have been unceasing along the Southern Branch City line, and floodwaters are running rampant. If the Divine Lord does not step in to control the floods, there may well be entire cities submerged!”

He continued to stare at the hook with full concentration, as though he had not heard a single word. No matter how earnestly the celestial officers beseeched him, it made no difference.

In the end, the celestial officers had no choice but to depart in dismay.

The floodwaters, freed from all restraint, truly became a beast — rampaging on and on, until seven cities were swallowed by water, with countless bodies floating in the flood.

Corpses with eyes wide open in death’s agony drifted downstream past him, and even this could not draw a single glance from him.

Grief-stricken humans turned their resentment upon the statues of the water deity they had worshipped for years, smashing and destroying them. No one knew where things had gone wrong — what had caused this deity who had always protected the mortal world to abandon them.

“You’re still fishing!” Exhausted to the bone, Zi Miao dove down from the sky and grabbed him by the front of his collar, shouting: “Uncle Shangshan! What has happened to you?!”

He showed not the slightest reaction.

“You taught me that all living beings are precious, and that a celestial deity ought to have a heart of compassion — that we must never commit any act that harms living creatures! Have you forgotten?” Young Zi Miao raised his fist. “Say something!”

He extended his hand and struck Zi Miao squarely in the chest — without mercy.

Completely unprepared, Zi Miao was flung sprawling onto the riverbank ten meters away. The damp palm print on his chest gave off faint wisps of steam. A young celestial who had not yet cultivated deeply — how could he withstand such a blow? A surge of acute pain shot from his chest as Zi Miao tried to sit up, but his vision went black, and he crumpled and lay still.

And still he had no intention of stopping. His bloodshot eyes radiated a killing intent as cold and sharp as winter, and he walked step by step toward the unconscious Zi Miao.

He could see nothing with his eyes; he felt no attachment to anything in his heart. This world had nothing whatsoever to do with him.

“Shangshan of the Water Sovereign, where do you think you’re going?”

He turned his head. Something small and bright traced a beautiful blue arc through the air, and with a whoosh burrowed into his chest.

It didn’t hurt at all — in fact it felt wonderful, like plunging into cool water on a blazing summer’s day, every droplet of the splash alive with joy.

“Water only lives when it flows. You are the Four Seas Water Sovereign — and yet you have forgotten even this most fundamental truth. Closing yourself off ends only in stagnation, harming yourself and others alike.” An unfamiliar voice came through the dreamlike haze with crystalline clarity.

He lowered his head in a daze and looked at his chest. A small blue stone, with what appeared to be the flowing color of a deep blue sea within it, was now embedded firmly in his flesh. His body felt lighter and lighter, smaller and smaller, drawn by a faintly cool hand down into a deep and overwhelming drowsiness.

“In ancient times there was a Fish King, who swam the four seas and delighted in speaking with people. Once every ten years it came ashore, and found joy in bestowing upon others a spirit of gladness. All those whom the Fish King guided would live with open and unclouded hearts. After the Fish King’s death, its tongue transformed into a small blue stone, hidden in the deep sea, known as the ‘Fish King Stone’ — a divine stone that may be called a remedy for the sorrows of the world. Shangshan, I give it to you now. Conduct yourself well — do not let my painstaking efforts go to waste.”

The Fish King Stone…

That voice grew further and further away, and his body, too, felt as though it was sinking into a serene, deep-blue, tranquil ocean — finding a peace such as he had never known before…

9

A small golden crab swiveled its eyes, and with a shy, furtive air wriggled its way out of one of the “shell prison cells.” It looked left and right, then scrabbled down and stood on the ground, waving its claws and emitting strange little gurgling sounds.

At that noise, the other seven large shells each yielded a small crab of a different color, one by one. These little creatures converged on the ground, lined themselves up in a row, and — like soldiers who had just earned great military merit — marched toward me with tremendous self-satisfaction, then each one raised its claws and burst into click-click-click laugher at me!

I narrowed my eyes, extended one finger, and summoned a small dancing flame at the fingertip, murmuring as though to myself: “One roasted crab, two roasted crabs…”

By the time I reached the fourth, all seven had vanished in an instant, and scrambled off to hide behind that man standing opposite me.

Much good it does me to call myself an experienced old demon who has traveled the world far and wide — I had been completely and utterly fooled this time. Every sort of shame, sorrow, and humiliation churned together inside me; I rather wished I could crawl inside one of the giant shells and hide.

It finally dawned on me: I had never seen through it at all — those eight children were not children, and the two men in red suits were not men. They had all been a collection of crabs and a pair of lobsters!

“The Deep-Sea Diamond Clams are the most inescapable prisons in the world. Don’t even think about wandering in carelessly — without my incantation, you’d be trapped for a lifetime and never get out.” Shangshan, seeing right through my thoughts once again, gently stroked a crab that had climbed up onto his shoulder. “And don’t be hard on yourself for your ‘mistake’ either. My skill at transforming seafood into human form has reached a level of consummate mastery. What’s more, when a demoness is pregnant, both her spiritual powers and her intellect — in every department — inevitably run at reduced capacity.”

“You’ve confused mockery with comfort, you old fellow!” I rolled my eyes at him.

“I share a bond of master and disciple with Zi Miao, which by generational reckoning makes me your grand-master. You ought to address me as such.” Shangshan smiled.

“I have never called Zi Miao ‘master.’ I was only his serving maid.” I stated the record straight.

“But he taught you quite a number of things, didn’t he.” He carried the serenity of someone who had already decided he was my grand-master. “Whether you call me that or not, the relationship is set in stone.”

Two old beings who had been in a life-or-death struggle just moments ago now sat peacefully across from each other, with a plate of sweet-smelling fruit set between them in friendly fashion. Shangshan said these were a local specialty of the Sea God Bay — golden fruit that grew on white coral, crisp and sweet, and his favorite everyday snack.

I know that you may find it difficult to bear such a dramatic reversal — I found it hard to take in at first too — but facts are facts. The graceful, strikingly handsome young-looking man before me was, in reality, older even than Zi Miao: the celestial realm’s first Four Seas Water Sovereign, Shangshan — a deity who had been sealed by the Fish King’s Tongue for many long years.

“Your head… is it all right?” I looked at the small red dot on Shangshan’s forehead, somewhat concerned.

This madman had deliberately let me believe he was the kind of monster who harvested people’s tongues, and then manipulated me into firing that bullet into his own body.

He touched his forehead and smiled: “This was not a bullet — it was a Departure-from-Water Talisman. Only this particular incantation could help my elemental spirit leave my physical body. Because I have been sealed for many years, I lost my divine position long ago; my original powers have weakened greatly, and I have no means of infusing this talisman into my own body. I needed someone of high cultivation to do it for me. Although you are a demon, your cultivation is profound, and furthermore, in years past Zi Miao used his own elemental spirit as a conduit to bestow your human form upon you — so your body has always harbored a wisp of mysterious celestial energy. Having you do it for me was therefore perfectly reliable.”

I drew a deep breath and said: “The whole thing, as I understand it, comes down to this: a madman one day decided he wanted to die, but discovered he couldn’t kill himself — so he went to elaborate lengths to lure someone else here to help him reach his end?”

“Not a bad summary.” He smiled and stood up, gesturing at the Diamond Clams beside him. “If I told you that people have genuinely been imprisoned here before, and that I have genuinely taken their tongues — would you believe me?”

I frowned.

He walked over and took my hand in his…

10

“Betty, will you say something to Mama? Just one word?” A golden-haired woman with tear-stained cheeks and swollen red eyes drew her thirteen- or fourteen-year-old daughter close and pleaded in a choked voice. “Just one word — will you?”

The lovely-faced young girl paid it all no mind, utterly unresponsive, as though she had gone deaf and mute. She focused intently on the Rubik’s cube in her hands.

The helpless mother let go of her, then produced an elegantly decorated box. She opened it, revealing a pair of expensive earrings, and said to her daughter in a near-pleading tone: “These are a gift from Uncle Benny. He’s a very, very good man.”

Betty twisted the Rubik’s cube, not sparing the earrings so much as a glance.

“You play here then — Mama’s going out for a bit.” The lady heaved a long sigh and left her room. “You’ve been in your room for a whole month without going out or saying a word. Mama is heartbroken.”

The moment the door was shut, Betty set down her Rubik’s cube, took out a small hammer, and smashed those earrings to pieces.

“Hello, young lady — enjoying a world all to yourself?” A man appeared behind her as if from nowhere, full of smiles, and sat down on her bed.

Betty was startled for a moment, but quickly returned to her unaffected, indifferent state, turning her head and refusing to look at him.

She was already a person the entire world had abandoned. Everything in this world had nothing to do with her — even if an alien had crashed through the ceiling and landed right in front of her, it couldn’t stir even the faintest flicker of interest. Yes, this was exactly what she wanted: to lock herself away, to let the world shrink down to just herself.

“Your mother and Uncle Benny make a lovely pair, you know. You should be happy for them — your father has been gone for so many years.” The man said. “Or maybe you feel that your mother, who was always away for work, has already owed you so much — and now that she’s going to marry another man, you are truly and completely shut out of her world?”

Betty’s hands paused briefly on the Rubik’s cube, then resumed their twisting.

“Do you truly no longer wish to speak to anyone?” The man asked in earnest.

The cube clicked and clicked in Betty’s hands. Her lips remained perfectly still.

“Very well.” The man sighed and stood up. “Since you no longer wish to speak, your tongue would seem to have little purpose.”

A faint puff of pale smoke drifted through the room, and there was no longer any trace of anyone.

On the desk, under the Rubik’s cube, lay a folded note:

I’ve taken Betty out for a walk. Back within a month at the latest. No need to worry. —The Manager

Unusual light filtered through the sea around them and fell upon that circular stretch of floor, breathtakingly beautiful.

Inside a great Diamond Clam, Betty was pounding frantically on her “cell” in alarm, letting out muffled mmm-mmm cries.

The man stood outside, cradling a gleaming glass bottle in which a human tongue floated.

Betty clasped her mouth in horror.

“Since you have already given up your right to speak, your tongue now belongs to me.” The man smiled. “This is the deep of the deep sea, and this clam shell is an inescapable cell. I imagine you’ll enjoy it — you wanted ‘a world all to yourself,’ didn’t you? Don’t even think about harming yourself — this cell not only provides the energy to sustain your life, it will also prevent any action you might take to hurt yourself. Enjoy your world of solitude.”

With that, he turned and walked away, paying no mind at all to the kicking and pounding from inside the shell.

Three days later, the man returned.

An exhausted Betty sat inside the shell, glaring at him with resentment.

“It seems you’ve settled in.” The man said with a smile, and sat down before the shell. “I’m feeling a little bored today — shall I tell you a story?”

Betty furrowed her brows, turned her body to one side, and even pressed her hands over her ears.

“Your mother must have told you the story of the Little Mermaid.” He paid no heed to whether she wanted to listen and launched into it on his own. “That poor little mermaid traded her beautiful voice to the witch in exchange for the chance to become human, and that was how she found her beloved prince. But the mermaid was punished: if she did not kill the prince, she would turn to sea foam at dawn. In her kindness, the mermaid chose to let herself dissolve into foam. How very pitiable.” He paused. “In truth, the real version of this story is not entirely as told. That mermaid who became a mute — she was real, and there was more than one of them. In the ancient mer-people tribe, both men and women who wished to come ashore as humans could only do so by exchanging their tongues. Handsome and beautiful as they were, they could easily find a beloved on land — but if they could not call out their beloved’s name aloud with their own voice, they would dissolve into sea foam at dawn on the seventh day. It sounds much easier to call out the prince’s name than to kill him — yet this one simple thing is something the mer-people can never do.”

Betty’s hands, pressed over her ears, loosened ever so slightly.

“That’s all for now. I’m leaving.” The man brushed off his clothes and departed.

Betty hugged her knees, her brows drawn tight.

Ten days later, the man returned.

Today, there was somewhat less hostility in Betty’s eyes.

“No more Little Mermaid today — I’ll tell you the story of a foolish man.” He leaned back against the shell and settled in, those long, narrow eyes sinking into what seemed like a deep and lengthy dream. “A very, very long time ago, there was a man who fell in love with a woman. He thought of her smile so often that he couldn’t sleep at night. He sought her face in a crowd. He talked and talked with her about everything under the sun, and he carved her name into a jade token he always carried with him. All of this made him believe he loved her very deeply. But then one day, the woman married someone else. In their last meeting, she thanked him for his friendship. He was so angry — all those years of effort and longing she had never taken to heart; she gave him up so easily and with no regret. At that moment, he felt the world had abandoned him — and so he resolved to abandon the world in return.”

Betty looked at him; in her eyes there appeared for the first time a yearning for him to continue — something she had never shown before.

He was silent for a long while, then continued: “Many years later, the man who had awoken from a long sleep finally understood why the woman had left. When she fell, he never helped her up. When her hands were covered in needle marks, he never tended to them. When she was bullied, he never stood up for her. When she was lonely, he never appeared at her side when she needed him most. And yet he had the audacity to interpret his entire conduct as a magnificent ‘silent love’ — and then had the gall to resent her for not appreciating it. Truly, what a fool! A person could think of another ten thousand times a day until their heart ached and their stomach knotted; could carve the other person’s name to the very ends of the earth — and still bring that person not even a shred of real comfort. So-called ‘silent love,’ no matter how many times it circles through your heart each day, cannot compare to a single bun delivered when the one you love is hungry — or a single word of comfort offered when they feel low. Not saying anything, not doing anything, ‘loving’ someone through a kind of self-righteous silence — the other person is not a creature living inside your stomach; they have no way of knowing. Ha.” He smiled and shook his head. “What a pity that when this man finally understood all of this, it was already far too late. Young girl — in this world, there are far too many people just like this man, who have closed themselves off. And what is frightening is that they themselves are often the last to realize it. Whether it is a beloved or a close friend — one refuses to open one’s heart to others, and then turns around and resents them for failing to understand. And here is a perfectly good tongue, going entirely to waste.”

Betty pressed her lips tightly together and buried her face in her knees.

Ding!

A small white shell was tossed down beside her.

“You have one more chance to take back your tongue. I’ll return in three days. If you want it back, throw this shell out. If not, keep it as a toy.”

Through the gap in the clam shell, she watched his figure recede into the distance. She reached carefully for the small shell, her fingers trembling faintly…

Three days later, the Diamond Clam was empty, and the small white shell lay quietly on the ground outside.

One month later, the bells of a city church rang out joyfully. A middle-aged couple in formal attire exchanged rings before a priest.

The audience applauded.

A young girl stood before that couple, their faces radiant with happiness. Without any expression on her face at all, she extended her hand to the groom and, after a long struggle to get the words out, said: “Thank you for the earrings.”

Outside the church, the man who had been watching from the shadows walked away, satisfied.

11

I withdrew my hand and stared at Shangshan in bewilderment: “You can transmit your memories to me?”

“Water in itself is a medium. The human body is about seventy percent water, and the human forms cultivated by immortals and demons are much the same. Even though I am only a fallen water deity, anything to do with water is still something I can manage.” He ran his hand along the smooth surface of the Diamond Clam. “In all the years I have lived in the Sea God Bay, more than one Betty has been imprisoned here. Whenever I wander ashore, I tend to encounter people who have locked themselves away.” He turned back to look at me and smiled: “If someone has a clinically defined condition, I understand and I have compassion for them. But there are far too many people in this world who are ‘sick’ without any actual illness — squandering their years and hurting each other. The legendary Fish King, who could take people far from sorrow with a single kiss — what it bestowed upon them was not divine power. It was a state of heart, gentle yet steadfast as flowing water, a willingness to engage with the world. Stagnant, closed-off water cannot grow any true happiness.”

I studied him for a moment and laughed: “How do you know about the Fish King? By the time you were sealed, the Fish King was already nothing but a stone.”

He touched his chest and winked at me: “This stone told me. Do you believe it?”

“It would be more accurate to say you wrote the answer yourself.” I put a piece of fruit in my mouth — sweet with a hint of sourness, exactly to my taste. “But what I can’t make out is how you came to the Sea God Bay, and how you created a place like this.”

He walked to the center of the space and looked around: “Someone placed me in a nameless deep sea. A hundred years ago I woke from my long sleep, sat among coral, and spent a very long time remembering everything from the past. With nothing to occupy myself, I followed the sea currents westward until I reached the Sea God Bay, where I discovered this remarkable market that had long existed, along with this curious submerged space. The sea turtle called Jack told me it had been built by the powerful sea demon who once ruled the Sea God Bay — a prison specifically for keeping disobedient subordinates in line. After the sea demon was later destroyed by a powerful being, the place was left unused. A creature like me deserved to live in a prison, quietly reflecting on my mistakes.”

“Besides reflecting on your mistakes, I imagine you were also busy with other things?” I gave him a sideways glance. The rock on the beach was obviously a kind of barrier formation.

“As you know, there are fewer and fewer places in this world where demons can make their home.” He sighed. “The creatures of the Sea God Bay are not bad sorts — they are simply doing an honest business. They bring all manner of treasures they worked hard to find, and trade them fairly with humans who come here. All I did was ensure the market’s safety. Anyone who caused trouble would be dealt with — no mercy. The boundary formation at the entrance is my doing; anyone with ill intent is denied entry.”

“How do you judge whether a visitor is well-intentioned?”

“Intuition.” He pointed to himself. “A weathered old creature who has lived for tens of millions of years is a very good judge of people. You’ve always had this same confidence in yourself, haven’t you?”

“But I couldn’t see through you.” I answered honestly. “Just as I could never see through Zi Miao. Two generations of the Four Seas Water Sovereign — you really are very alike.”

He broke into a laugh: “Water has always been unpredictable and ever-changing. It doesn’t matter that you couldn’t see through me — what matters is that we found each other.”

“Don’t be so poetic with me!” I let out a sniff. “What on earth do the Sea God Bay demons want to exchange from the humans?”

“Tongues,” he said candidly. “Sea demons cannot speak, so they trade their treasures with humans in exchange for the ability to talk — because once they can speak in the human tongue, it means they can enter the world in human form. But the rules of the Dew Market stipulate that the market opens once every ten years, and each sea demon may only borrow the ‘tongue’ of the same person for no more than three days at a time. During the exchange period, the human will lose the ability to speak, and once the time limit is exceeded, the sea demons revert to their original forms.”

“Just that?” I weighed it up. The mermaid silk being sold was top-tier treasure — to exchange it for a mere three days of speech seemed rather a poor deal.

“Just that.” He nodded. “Sea demons who have a ‘tongue’ can take human form and wander in nearby cities. Being able to go to a karaoke bar and sing a few songs, being able to haggle with a street-stall vendor, being able to sit in a coffee shop and chat with a young woman about the weather — for the creatures of the Sea God Bay, these are the most precious things imaginable. I love to see them so cheerful and alive.”

He truly did love it — the eyes don’t lie.

Yet no matter how pleasant the atmosphere was between us at that moment, we still had to face one unavoidable, pressing matter: the Departure-from-Water Talisman.

His body had been changing by degrees — becoming more and more transparent, with the faint movement of water currents visible within.

“Why leave?” I asked him. “Don’t you love the Sea God Bay?”

He looked down at his feet: “Take a close look at what’s beneath us.”

I bent my head and looked carefully for a long while before noticing that beneath the transparent floor, there was a faint, winding, enormous dark shadow — pitch black.

“That is a sea rift.” His expression turned grave. “When I first arrived here, it was already present, though not as large as it is now. As time passed, humans stirred up various conflicts in nearby waters, and the frenzied mining of deep-sea resources has caused this rift to expand and expand. I brought in the world’s most skilled mending demons to stitch it up, but even they could not seal it completely. A month ago, a group of Japanese men brought their Onmyoji and performed a ritual near the Sea God Bay. Although they never found the entrance to the market, the power of their incantations spread far and wide, causing the rift to expand several times over in a single night. If it is not sealed, within ten days this entire submerged place will crack in two, and everything in the Sea God Bay will be swallowed into it, with no hope of recovery. So I had to do something.”

“You want to use your own elemental spirit to seal the rift?” I was taken aback.

“A celestial deity’s elemental spirit is the purest essence of the cosmos — it should not go to waste.” He smiled. “I didn’t bring you here solely to help me release my elemental spirit.”

“You also want to hand the Sea God Bay, those fish and crabs and shrimp, and this ridiculous market over to me?” I didn’t need him to say it — I already knew.

“You may have a good many flaws, but just on the basis that you were willing to stake your life against mine for the sake of children you’d never met before, you are the most fitting manager there could be.” He raised his eyes, watching the various creatures gliding past overhead. “The creatures of the Sea God Bay have always worked hard and lived contentedly with what they have. I hope this market can go on for as long as possible.”

I said nothing. I was already a proprietress — was I now expected to moonlight as nanny to a bunch of sea demons as well?!

“How did you know I was in New York? And all those details about me…” I asked one last question.

“The proprietress of Bu Ting has long been renowned throughout the demon world, and someone even turned your story into a fantasy novel that’s been selling everywhere — it would be very hard to remain ignorant of you. As for the fact that you left Bu Ting and have been searching for stones along the way — a bug-person I employed told me. I paid it twenty blue pearls.” He answered straightforwardly. “There is also one thing I should warn you: from what I have gathered, those Japanese seem to be here for the Fish King legend and the market. There is no telling what else they may get up to — you should keep watch.”

The Japanese can wait — the real outrage was the bug-person! Those gossip-peddling creatures who live in the shadows and make their living trading information — how dare they sell me out too?!

Just as I was seething with fury, he suddenly extended his already half-transparent hand toward me with a smile: “I believe the time has come to say our permanent farewell. I hope our parting need not be too sorrowful. To encounter Zi Miao’s disciple at a time like this — I am very glad.”

“We’re hardly even acquainted — why on earth would I be sad!” I pursed my lips, hesitated for a moment, but still reached out and shook his hand.

“And don’t feel guilty about shooting me.”

“You tricked me into doing it! What on earth do I have to feel guilty about — a crab?!”

“Grandchild, you are a fine demon.”

“Stop taking it upon yourself to demote my seniority!”

“Grand-master is very fond of you. That set of manager’s uniforms — consider them yours!”

“I am not becoming some bizarre masked auntie.”

“Grand-master and you are both of a face to overturn cities — the uniform is what keeps us inconspicuous.”

“Why haven’t you disappeared yet…”

12

Holding that small stone — blue as seawater — I floated calmly upward toward the surface.

This parting was different from any other I had ever known. As Shangshan had said, this “farewell” of ours carried no sadness. Whether he was the Four Seas Water Sovereign who had tamed floods and subdued demons, or the unremarkable market manager quietly living in the Sea God Bay — he had done what he set out to do and what needed to be done. The regrets of tens of millions of years past, and the wrongs he had committed, had been washed clean by the endless sea.

Before he left, he passed along to me the method of entering and exiting the market, as well as how to find this “Sea Prison” in the vast deep sea — along with the incantations for commanding the Diamond Clams and temporarily borrowing a human’s tongue. All of this, he said, was a gift for me. He knew I was a businesswoman, and he couldn’t let me help him for nothing. He also mentioned, with a touch of regret, that he never got to try that cup of “Fu Sheng” tea. He said, too, that he trusted my judgment of people, and that if one day I found it necessary, I was welcome to confine certain “patients” who lacked self-awareness to this place.

I, for my part, hoped that day would never come. What was the point of waiting until you had lost your tongue before remembering how precious speech truly was? That said, if Ao Chi or Jiayi ever came down with that particular affliction, the Diamond Clams might well come in handy… That thought gave me a sudden flutter of excitement.

The world around me was growing brighter and brighter. Through the shimmering water above my head, I could already faintly make out a beam of sunlight.

Epilogue

I won’t dwell on the scene of devastation that greeted me when I emerged from inside that rock.

Ao Chi, who had been kept outside for a full day and night and was so frantic his head had practically caught fire, shot out of a colossal pit he had dug in the ground — covered head to toe in sand and soil — and threw his arms around me. He seemed close to counting every strand of my hair and tallying up each of my fingers and toes to confirm I was in one piece.

He told me the rock had been extraordinarily strange — no matter what he tried, he could not move it by a fraction. Having exhausted his ideas, he had decided to tunnel under the rock instead, hoping to find another way in. He had dug countless holes and burrowed several thousand meters underground, yet still found no trace of me.

Not far away, three wooden stakes were firmly planted in the ground, and three men in identical black robes were trussed up to them, hollering and wailing. At each man’s feet burned a pair of bonfires; Jiu Jue and Jiayi were crouched beside the flames, patiently fanning them.

“Oh, you’re still alive?” Jiayi glanced at me and turned back to continue fanning. “I’m asking you one more time: where is your leader?”

“%%##¥#…” The men at the stakes shook their heads and babbled away in Japanese.

Jiu Jue came bounding over to me cheerfully and said: “You’re all right — good! Come look at us roasting people! These Japanese were really ferocious yesterday — pulling out knives and guns, declaring that this island was now theirs and telling us to clear off.”

“Then keep roasting until they understand that this island is not theirs.” I waved him off, then added: “My car is in your gourd — tip it out for me first!”

“What for?”

“I need a tin of tea!”

After Jiu Jue rejoined the group, the small wine gourd he always carried on him had proven its extraordinary value. The thing could hold not only wine but an entire car! From that point on, whenever I didn’t need the car, I never had to worry about where to park it anymore…

With the tea in hand, and having dispatched Ao Chi to fill in all the tunnels, I walked alone down to the shore.

At that moment, a golden sun hung bright and vigorous in the sky, and across the broad expanse of sea, gold and blue shimmered together in a fairy-tale palette of glittering color.

By the time I climbed up from the water, the market had already come to an end. Shangshan had told me that the humans who frequented the market were mostly regulars; like the sea demons, they were bound by the rules, and when the market closed, they would leave the way they came. Once all the humans who had entered had departed, the market’s gates would close to them, not to reopen for another ten years.

I looked at the empty little stalls on the beach and all the different footprints scattered across the sand, and thought of those little demons who called out their wares with such enthusiasm, willing to spend everything they had in exchange for the brief happiness of a few days’ “tongue” — and then thought about the people around me, who at the slightest thing would respond to the world with silence and withdrawal. I suddenly felt that Shangshan was right.

The very thing that the little demons wait ten years and give everything to acquire — those who already possess it are so willing to throw away.

Whatever the case may be: whether you are a person, a demon, or a deity — the proprietress has something to say to you. When you feel the urge to lock yourself away, when you are about to give up your tongue, count down from ten and ask yourself honestly: was it that world you resent that gave up on you first — or was it you who gave up on the world first?

And so, this market, and the Sea Prison — both should continue to exist. As their new manager, ten years from now, all are welcome to come and browse. If you don’t want your tongue, there are plenty of demons who do.

A cool breeze swept against my face; gentle waves lapped warmly over my bare feet. Sunlight on a summer beach — it truly is enough to lift the spirits.

I opened the tin of tea, tossed a handful, and bright green leaves scattered into the water. A dopey old sea turtle floated up from the waves, yawned, and drifted lazily toward the distance.