Echoes of the Vast Sea, Mermaid of the Tides

She opened the card pool preview for Mermaid's Love Song—a deep-sea-themed gown floated in the center of the light screen. The main dress was a sea-blue gradient fishtail gown, its hem spreading out like seafoam, while the bodice was adorned with delicate pearls and silver-thread embroidery.

The headpiece was a crown woven from conch shells and coral, shimmering with a soft, lustrous mother-of-pearl sheen.

Other accessories included earrings, a necklace, a bracelet, an armlet, a veil, a waist chain, an ankle chain, a handheld conch flute, and a pair of translucent fin-like shawls.

Taking a deep breath, she tapped her finger to perform a ten-draw.

The light screen burst into a deep-blue whirlpool as ten spheres of light fell one after another. She flipped through them one by one—the first was a mother-of-pearl bracelet.

The second was the waist chain, the third was the armlet, the fourth was the handheld conch flute, and the fifth was the fin-like shawls. The remaining five were all duplicates converted into points.

With the ten-draw complete, her progress was at six pieces. (She had previously received a random piece when she broke through to the Golden Core Stage.)

Pursing her lips, she used her remaining eleven tickets for another ten-draw and a single draw.

The second ten-draw yielded the necklace, earrings, and veil, while the single draw gave her the ankle chain.

After spending all twenty-one tickets, she had obtained ten of the twelve regular pieces of Mermaid's Love Song, leaving only the main fishtail gown and the crown.

Lin Zhiyue leaned against the ice wall, staring at the two unlit icons on the light screen, and let out a soft sigh.

She had noticed earlier that the set skill preview for Mermaid's Love Song read: “Echoes of the Vast Sea, Mermaid of the Tides.” It didn't elaborate on the specific ability, but those words alone were enough to spark the imagination.

In the legends of the cultivation world, mermaids were a spiritual race of the deep sea. They were unmatched in underwater combat, and their control over water far surpassed that of land-dwelling cultivators.

The power of this set was definitely not to be underestimated.

Rubbing her fingertips, she closed the light screen, stood up, and brushed the snow off her clothes.

Cen Xi'er returned with the water, handing Lin Zhiyue a canteen of fresh water and asking if she had rested enough.

Lin Zhiyue took it, had a sip, and nodded. “Let's go. We can walk for another hour.”

The two of them stepped out of the wind shelter and back into the wind and snow.

The wind on the snowy plains had grown stronger, making their hems rustle loudly, but they didn't slow their pace.

As she walked, Lin Zhiyue thought to herself that with only the fishtail and the crown left, she needed to save up more tickets. The Northern Realm Secret Realm had only just begun; there would be plenty of opportunities later.

...

After leaving the snowy valley, the Qingling Sect group traveled south for a while before setting up a temporary camp beneath a wind-sheltered cliff face.

The atmosphere was heavy. No one spoke, and the only sounds were the crunching of boots on gravel and the occasional metallic clink of weapons.

Cui Yu'er walked in the middle of the group, her face as cold as frost on ice. She reached into her robes and touched the Ice Marrow Jade Pendant several times—it felt cool to the touch, and its spiritual energy was pure. Yet, every time she looked up and saw Tang Yiran walking ahead with slumped shoulders, the anger she had managed to suppress flared up again.

When the group stopped to rest, Cui Yu'er finally lost her patience.

She set her water canteen on the ground with a thud. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly across the quiet camp. “Some people really know how to freeload. No real skills, but a master at causing trouble. You actually dared to provoke a Mirror Demon, and then you ran away, dragging everyone else into it and forcing the entire sect to clean up your mess. How do you have the face to just shed a few tears and act like everything is solved?”

Tang Yiran sat huddled by a rock in the corner of the camp, her head bowed in silence. She clutched a bag of dry rations so tightly that her knuckles turned white and her lips were pressed into a thin line, as if swallowing all her rebuttals.

Sitting on a nearby rock, Song Mu wiped his sword blade with lowered eyes, acting as if he hadn't heard Cui Yu'er's words.

Normally, he was the most protective of this Junior Sister. Tang Yiran's talent was mediocre, but she was obedient and sensible, and he always saved a share of any good resources for her.

But this time, he really had no desire to defend her.

Seeing that Song Mu didn't speak up, Cui Yu'er grew even more confident. She stood up, walked over to Tang Yiran, and looked down at her. “Why did you go and provoke the Mirror Demon anyway? Don't tell me it was an accident. At the entrance of the secret realm, the elders warned us three times not to go near Mirror Lake. Are your ears just for show?”

Tang Yiran's shoulders trembled, and the bag of rations in her hand was squeezed completely out of shape.

She looked up at Cui Yu'er, her eyes welling with tears once more. Her lips trembled as she whispered, “I... I didn't mean to... I really didn't know it would turn out like this...” Her voice was soft and weak, carrying her usual tearful and pitiful tone.

Cui Yu'er rolled her eyes, too annoyed to look at her further, and turned to walk away.

Song Mu sheathed his sword, looked up at Tang Yiran, and spoke in a tone that, while not harsh, carried a flat seriousness. “Tell me the truth. What did you go to Mirror Lake for?”

Tang Yiran bit her lower lip, her gaze flickering. She lowered her head and remained silent for a long time.

She didn't know how to explain it—she had actually wanted to look into the Mirror Demon's mirror.

She had heard a rumor that a fragment of a Mirror Demon's true body could permanently freeze a living person's appearance at the moment they were reflected in it. As long as one kept the fragment close, they would never age.

Cultivators could only maintain their youthful appearance indefinitely once they reached the Nascent Soul Stage. With her talent, forming a Golden Core would already require all her effort; the Nascent Soul Stage was an impossible dream.

She was the illegitimate daughter of the Qingling Sect Master in the mortal realm. She had entered the sect through this connection, but her talent was mediocre and her spiritual root was ordinary. The only asset that made her father spare her a glance was her decent face.

She was terrified that in a few years, even this face would fade, and then she would truly have nothing left.

Those who have nothing are the ones who fear losing the most.

But she didn't dare say any of this out loud. Not a single word.

She could only keep her head down, burying her face in her knees. Her voice muffled against her sleeves, she spoke with utter exhaustion. “Eldest Senior Brother... please don't ask... I really know I was wrong...”

Song Mu stared at her curled-up figure, silent for a long time.

He could guess some of it, but he didn't press further. Standing up, he hung his sword back at his waist. After taking a few steps, he paused, and without turning around, he said to Tang Yiran, “Once we return, report to the Sect Discipline Hall to receive your punishment. I won't plead on your behalf this time.”

Tang Yiran remained huddled by the rock, offering no response.

Sitting on the other side, Cui Yu'er let out a disdainful snort but said nothing more.

Silence fell over the camp once again, broken only by the whistling of the wind through the cracks in the cliff and the faint, distant howling of demon beasts across the snowy plains.

Tang Yiran buried her face in her knees, her fingernails digging deep into her palms, and spoke no more.