Chapter 1466: As I Write: Hai Se Yin (2)

The swordsman's wardrobe grew ever more crowded. People praised Aohema's Goldweave—lively, bright, and masterful. Yet only the swordsman noticed the girl's smile on her face gradually withered as the fire‑walking advanced.

The disaster of the earth's fissure added fatigue to the girl's heart. The battle of the arboreal courtyard stole the brilliance from the girl's eyes.

Another banquet, and Goldweave was absent again. The swordsman donned his finest robes and gently knocked on the tightly shut door. Jian Qi Jue's song sounded the prelude of the feast. Voices clamored, cups clinked, but Goldweave had no desire to partake of the honey brew.

"I never imagined… I've fallen to the point of seeking your comfort," she chuckled bitterly by the campfire, "When I first saw you, you were as dull as a reef at the bottom of the deep sea."

The swordsman clenched a narrow cup; the clear liquid inside rippled faintly, reflecting the two faces.

"I recall you were once curious about the stories beneath the sea. So let me use a ballad to show you that unknown past…"

…

In the depths of that dark sea, there lies a realm where phantom silhouettes dance.

The citizens of the city‑state all possess graceful singing voices, their music winding through every current. Because the queen deeply loves her people, she drowns all worries, leaving only feasts and swirling dances.

Only one reef fortress remains mute; it belongs to the ocean's princess, Princess Hai Lie Qu La.

Should a deep‑sea leviathan attack, the princess would draw her sword to meet it. People always sound a victory hymn in advance, for her swordsmanship is superb and unbeaten.

"Princess, join us for the grand feast!" the celebrants raised their cups to her, but she smiled and waved a hand to decline.

Her subjects laughed at her shyness, yet no one knew that in the deep of night, the reef fortress would also echo with music.

But that melody was a cacophonous, grating tangle. Before the piece ended, the princess clenched her lips, and the sea drank away her two streams of clear tears.

"Your subjects all sing and dance beautifully; why am I the only one without a good voice?" the princess sobbed at the queen's knee.

"The ocean's beloved can raise waves, ride tides, and never lose a battle. In exchange, Talandon took your voice away," the queen soothed, stroking the princess's hair bun, yet finally softened and fetched a narrow cup.

"If you are truly troubled, drink the honey brew from this blessed surge goblet… then throw yourself into the banquet with peace of mind."

The cup's interior was still and unruffled, reflecting only her solitary silhouette.

"Princess, come sing with us!" the people below the window warmly invited as usual.

She finally ceased hesitating, downed the honey brew in one gulp, leapt into the crowd. Music played, chants rose—each stanza a dream, each smile a frown.

When the song ended, the people awoke as from a dream, scrambling to raise cups in toast. Yet as soon as the honey brew touched her lips, the princess collapsed to the ground, her cheeks flushing with a rosy intoxication.

"Now that you've regained a graceful voice, you can never again enjoy the feast while sober."

The ocean's whispers lingered in her ears, and the princess repeatedly became drunk on the banquet's prelude…

"It seems you still haven't shaken off this curse," Goldweave lightly snatched the cup from her hand, "If you wish to indulge… keep this honey brew until the end."

She smiled faintly, tilting the cup's rim toward Goldweave's mouth.

"Even if you bear flaws, please remember… don't refuse that sip soaked in illusionary dreams."

——

Genshin.

"Miss Hai Se Yin never had a wonderful voice before?"

If Hai Se Yin hadn't spoken it herself, Wo Ya Ni Sha would never have believed that this melodious sea spirit could have a harsh voice.

As a water spirit also skilled in singing, Wo Ya Ni Sha fully understood Hai Se Yin's frustration; had she been in her place, she would likely have made the same choice.

Wo Ya Ni Sha was lost in thought when she suddenly sensed a gaze; she turned her head and saw Ao Dai Ta staring unblinkingly at her, that look… seemed tinged with curiosity.

"What are you looking at me for?" Wo Ya Ni Sha felt a bit embarrassed under her constant stare.

"I'm wondering…" Ao Dai Ta rested her chin, speaking very seriously, "What exactly distinguishes a water spirit from a sea spirit? Also, Wo Ya Ni Sha, could your voice also cause hallucinations? Make people experience pleasant fantasies… and the like."

Upon hearing this, Wo Ya Ni Sha instantly lifted her eyebrows, hands on hips, puffed up and glared, "Ao Dai Ta, what do you mean? You're questioning my… voice? Do I need to use my singing to hallucinate others? When people watch me, it's purely because of my—"

She tilted her chin up, deliberately elongating the syllable after "I" for a long stretch, while proudly puffing out her chest.

"—the singing and artistic charm that captivate! Even if someone is moved to tears because of it, that's not a hallucination; it's a willing surrender."

Ao Dai Ta blinked, then let out an "oh," her lips barely curving upward: "I see. So it's not that you can't, just that you don't need to."

"You—!"

Wo Ya Ni Sha, tangled by her words, huffed and turned her head away: "The difference between water spirits and sea spirits is huge; although both can turn their legs into fish tails, our water spirits' bellies never gurgle bubbles!"

"I don't believe it unless Wo Ya Ni Sha shows me her belly right now," Ao Dai Ta said expressionlessly.

"Ao Dai Ta—!" Wo Ya Ni Sha gritted her teeth, "Tonight I must capture you and take you to my shell to blow bubbles, so you'll see enough!"

——

"After many years, returning to her hometown, the ocean's queen stood sword in hand, pacing through the crimson haze of her companions."

Before her, the creator of the sea spirits, the mother goddess of feasts, had fallen into a near‑death trance.

"Pour for me, Hai Lie Qu La… whether it's clear honey brew or that world‑defiling disaster…" The blood pact of law won the ocean's flame, and the sea spirit again lost its graceful voice.

"I am willing to accept the final imperial command. Alas, our feast is ultimately but a mirage."

…

The deep sea is a silent dwelling. Hai Lie Qu La curled her knees and locked herself; terrifying beasts swam past her, none daring to disturb her sorrowful dream. Until one day, in her dim waters, a bubble from a golden trout drifted in.

"Long time no see, Jian Qi… Hai Se Yin. Now, you truly are the reef at the bottom of the deep sea."

Old acquaintances meet again, and new friends also arrive.

Many messengers came in groups; a restless kitten hid behind the golden trout, and a shadowy butterfly fluttered in a graceful salute.

"If you don't mind…" a crystal‑clear pearl flickered, "we hope you can rally and sing for the world once more."

Hai Lie Qu La hesitated, raising her lute‑sword; its strings had long since rusted and broken. Yet a few strands of golden silk cleared the surrounding murk, stretching anew into strings.

The golden strings showed Hai Lie Qu La that the world she loves is not yet mute, and the journey of salvation continues.

But the road to the Star Sea is not a carefree banquet.

The golden trout never met her again, and the waves brought endless sorrowful currents. During the long wait, she remained bound by the law.

Until this world fell into eternal silence, all flames extinguished. In the deep sea, the mute opposing force is the audience of this divine rite.

"You already know, the world is merely a fleeting illusion."

The sea spirit gazed beyond the heavens and once more raised a cup, filling it with honey brew.

"Since you indulge in the mirage of pleasure, you can only become fleeting foam that dissipates… When you return wandering, can you keep a handful of waves for me?"