Seeing the royal family’s secretive and evasive manner, Ying Ying only felt satisfaction.
He hadn’t forgotten the man’s conditions either.
Li’er Kingdom’s secret realm opened once every ten years. To open the secret realm required a direct bloodline member of the royal family had to ascend the Constellation Platform and personally open the entrance. If the royal family was coerced into forcibly opening the secret realm, the entrance would collapse on its own. The Liuli Sect had few members, only Rong Yu and her senior brother, making them less likely to be discovered, so he had hidden within Rong Yu’s body, planning to infiltrate when the time came.
However, he hadn’t expected Gu Baiying and the others to come. Even less had he expected that the people from Taiyan Sect would stumble upon the truth from years past.
He originally hadn’t come for revenge, at least not entirely so. But now, when the truth was discovered, Ying Ying felt that whether he entered the secret realm or not didn’t matter—he had already achieved his purpose.
“What does the other party want you to find in the secret realm?” Gu Baiying asked.
“I won’t tell you.”
“Seems you don’t want your demon core anymore.”
“It’s a painting, a portrait of a woman! He said I’d know it when I saw it,” Ying Ying said angrily. Not everyone could endure the pain of having their demon core cut open.
“I still don’t understand,” Zanxing said, looking at him seriously. “Whether you came for revenge or to enter the secret realm, I’ve never held any hostility toward you. But why did you sneak into my room in the middle of the night?”
Ying Ying was stunned. His gaze fell on Zanxing, becoming somewhat strange in an instant: “That’s because you…”
Just as he reached this point, the pitch-black scale on his chest suddenly flickered.
“Danger!” Gu Baiying’s face changed, and he pulled Zanxing behind him.
From Ying Ying’s chest, large masses of black mist suddenly rose. Rather than calling it black mist, it was more like beams of light condensed from black mist. These black beams instantly pierced through Ying Ying’s chest. The merfolk’s expression became agonized, as if enduring tremendous torment. Those beams gradually spread and grew, like a swamp-like fog, enveloping Ying Ying within.
“Ying Ying!” Yinli cried out in panic.
But he was only a wisp of primordial spirit—he couldn’t even touch his brother’s body. He could only watch helplessly as Ying Ying was devoured by the black mist, leaving only a torn robe on the ground.
“Is he… dead?” Tian Fangfang asked dazedly.
“That scale was problematic.” Gu Baiying’s face was unusually grim. “Perhaps the other party used giving him demonic power as a way to hold his weakness. Once something went wrong, they’d take the merfolk’s life.”
It was a guaranteed profitable deal.
“Yinli…” Zanxing looked at the small merfolk. He had wandered alone in the imperial mausoleum’s corridors for decades, thinking he might touch freedom, even if just for a brief moment. But just after meeting his beloved relative, they had to part again.
She wanted to help Yinli find fulfillment, but this long story had been destined for a tragic ending from the beginning.
The cultivators watched him from afar. Between heaven and earth, this small merfolk’s figure was so pitiful.
Until a woman’s voice rang out: “Yinli…”
Yinli’s body stirred, and he slowly turned around.
The woman in red robes stared at him blankly, with a bow and arrow fallen on the ground beside her. Her gaze penetrated through years, like their first encounter at sea, confused, puzzled, that warmth he could never forget.
Princess Lizhu slowly approached, walking before Yinli.
Forty years had passed since then.
Forty years was but a finger’s snap for merfolk, yet enough to turn a human maiden into an aged woman.
She still loved wearing red robes as in the past, just like when killing pirates on the merchant ship, with her long robes cut short and wide sleeves rolled to her elbows, heroic and spirited. Her hair was still bound high, but the black silk had turned to white hair. Her eyes were still bright, but wrinkles had crept around their corners.
Life had passed for a long time.
“Yinli… is that your name?” Princess Lizhu asked softly.
He was stunned for a moment, then nodded shyly.
Tears flowed from her eyes: “I’m sorry.”
But the merfolk smiled: “It doesn’t matter.”
Those truths, those truths buried deep in the imperial mausoleum and reduced to ashes along with the demon-extermination formation, burned alone and unnoticed like those bright eternal lamps in the underground corridors. Perhaps one day they would see the light again, or perhaps they would never be known.
The white jade palace of the imperial mausoleum suddenly seemed very insignificant. Wind blew from all directions, and the earth was empty and vast. The merfolk’s silver fish tail gradually became visible, tracing a brilliant streak of color across the vast night sky.
The youth looked at the white-haired woman before him, suddenly leaned forward slightly, and shyly, firmly kissed her forehead.
Time seemed to stand still.
He remembered long, long ago, when the moon over the West Sea reflected on the huge sailing ship, and he saw the woman in red robes with black hair standing at the bow, carefully wiping the horn bow in her hands. He lurked behind the reef, eager to try, following her to a foreign land.
On that night, the princess looked directly at the silent young guard for the first time and said to him: “Thank you.” He gave her the blue conch shell he had polished countless times, hoping to make her smile.
Walking hurt, but his heart was joyful.
Humans and demons had always walked different paths, and being together would have no good ending. But he had never hoped to be with her. This humble youth liked someone but couldn’t say it out loud—he could only… only hide it in his heart.
The merfolk said, “I want to become human.”
The witch of the Serpent Witch Clan looked at him: “I want your demon core in exchange.”
He said, “Alright.”
“You must pull off all the scales on your body, one by one.”
He said, “Alright.”
“It’s not easy for demons to become human. Though you’ll have legs, every day will be like walking on blade edges.”
He said, “Alright.”
In the witch’s eyes was an all-seeing compassion, as if she had already seen through the ending. She said, “Destiny is already determined and cannot be changed. Between you and her, the bond’s beginning and end are but an instant. Why force it?”
An instant?
Yinli felt his body becoming very light, like the wind that blew from the edge of the West Sea in summer. He looked at the woman before him.
Her eyes reflected his, and she had also called out his name.
This was enough.
Zanxing had once jokingly said: A fish’s memory is very short, only lasting an instant.
But she didn’t know that sometimes, that instant is eternity.
In the sky dome, the night sky became an ink-blue sea. Starting from the merfolk’s fish tail, he gradually dissolved into brilliant white stars. Those twinkling stars floated over the vast wilderness, slowly scattering in the darkness.
From his tail to his torso, then to his arms, until his entire being was completely transformed into points of light and disappeared. Only those stunning stars remained, burning brilliantly and magnificently, then returning to tranquility.
The night sky darkened once more.
The merfolk Yinli no longer existed in this world.