Chapter 116

When the Queen was fifteen, she was the darling of her household—pampered, carefree, and wildly spirited. Fascinated by the world beyond the waves, she snuck away from her nurses one day, determined to sail off and see it for herself.
But her health had always been frail. It wasn’t long before she collapsed, her tiny boat overturned by the waves, and she sank into the sea.
In the dark, swaying depths, a figure swam toward her—a being with stunning, otherworldly features, trailing starlight in his wake.
When she awoke, she found herself on the beach. A boy sat beside her, saying he was a prince from the palace—third son of the royal family. He claimed to have found her on the shore and carried her to safety.
From that moment on, she was helplessly in love.
Despite fierce objections from her clan, she insisted on marrying that third prince. Over the years, he proved himself, rising above his brothers and taking the throne. She stood by him through his darkest trials. But once the hardship passed, so too did his love.
He began taking more and more consorts. Each time he visited her, he would hold her hand and whisper that he had no choice, that it was all for the kingdom’s stability. At first, she believed him. But as his visits grew rarer, as palace affairs grew more “urgent,” and the harem more crowded...his gaze never rested on her again.
Eventually, she understood—his heart had changed. He was no longer the youth who had once held her hand beneath the moonlight. He loved someone else now.
Or perhaps...he never loved her that much to begin with.
There were always reasons, always necessities. But stripped down to the truth—she simply wasn’t important enough.
Heartbroken, she withdrew from the court, spending her days in solitude, cherishing memories of the boy she once believed in. Her worried attendants eventually forced her to go out and walk the beach. That day, she heard a song carried on the wind and followed it—to find a beautiful young man reclining on a rock, gently tapping his silvery tail.
It was the merman.
He had come of age and been granted permission by his elders to explore the shallows for the first time. There, he’d seen a girl—frail, awkward, but delightfully earnest as she rowed her boat.
Playfully, he flipped the vessel. He had wanted to tease her, like he did with his kindred in the deep. But the girl panicked and sank swiftly beneath the waves.
Startled, he rescued her, lifting her up through the surf and laying her gently on the shore. He’d planned to greet her once she awoke, perhaps even apologize for his prank. But before she could stir, a human prince arrived. One glance, one shallow breath, and she was taken away.
And so the story of her life...had never included him. From that day on, the young merman never saw that girl again on the shore.
Not long afterward, he heard great celebration echoing from the land. He didn’t pay it much mind—what did the affairs of humans have to do with him? But a year later, he happened upon the coronation ceremony of the new king. And standing beside the king, in her bridal splendor...was the very girl he had saved.
She never came back. She married someone else.
The young merman was devastated. He returned to the deep sea, wounded in both body and spirit. Years passed, but the pain never dulled. Eventually, unable to let go, he swam back to the old coastline, consumed by vengeance.
He had harbored many dark intentions on his way there. But when he caught sight of her once more—frail, pale, weighed down by sorrow—his heart clenched painfully, just as it had all those years ago.
If she abandoned him, then why did she still live so unhappily?
Had his pain all these years meant nothing to her?
Driven by bitterness, the merman surfaced. He revealed the beauty of his kind: shimmering scales, sharp claws, a powerful tail. He showed the gifts the heavens had bestowed upon the sea people—irresistible allure, an enchanting voice, the power to weave illusions. He sang, casting his net for prey.
He meant to seduce her. To lure her in, ruin her, and leave her in disgrace—just as she had left him. But in the end, the one caught in the trap...was himself.
He learned how miserable her days had been. How her husband’s heart had turned cold. How his consorts bullied her under his protection.
The more the merman knew, the more he couldn’t pull away. He lost control. And finally, he told her the truth.
He had been the one who saved her. If she still wished it, he would take her away—right then and there.
But her response shattered him. She was in agony. She refused to see him again and sent a message through her maidservant: return to the sea, never show yourself again.
Even when he sang his soul out on the shore, night after night, she never came.
The merman thought: It must be because of that king. If the king died, she would leave with me.
Heaven gave mermen their incomparable beauty, their illusions, their siren song. But in return, it cursed them to be slaves to love for life. Once their heart was given, they could never reclaim it.
The merman learned when the Zixing Flowers would bloom and knew the King would hold a feast in the garden that night. He made meticulous preparations, planning to kill the King while he was trapped in an illusion.
But what he hadn’t expected was the arrival of another group—outsiders, each with unfathomable cultivation. The one at the head radiated the aura of an immortal.
He knew these people were far beyond his reach. And yet...he refused to give up.
The Zixing Flowers only bloomed once every hundred years. If he missed this chance, he’d have to wait another century.
And a merman could live for centuries—but for love, even eternity could be cast aside.
He wove illusions to ensnare the newcomers. He didn’t intend to harm them—he only hoped to delay them. If he could stall them for just a little while, it would be enough to kill the King.
What he hadn’t anticipated...was that the most powerful among them, the one he should have feared the most, was also the easiest to influence.
He couldn’t empathize with Luo Han or Zou Jibai. But Ling Qingxiao...his heart was something the merman understood all too well.
A bold idea formed in his mind.
If the King were to die at the hands of a Celestial Immortal in the chaos of an illusion—well, that was only natural. No one would dare blame an Immortal. Dongsha would surely not pursue the matter.
And with the truth buried, the King’s death would raise no suspicion. The Queen’s family would remain safe.
No one would know who truly wielded the knife.
The merman thought through everything. Every possibility, every detail. But he had vastly underestimated the strength of an Immortal.
Yes, Ling Qingxiao had been trapped in the illusion—but when power is overwhelming enough, illusions, arrays, barriers...they all become meaningless.
The merman failed. And he failed in full view of the King.
The assassination plot crumbled. The King’s cultivation far surpassed his own, and the merman was outnumbered. In the end, he was pinned to the ground.
The Queen threw herself beside him. For the first time, she embraced the boy from her dreams. She sobbed uncontrollably, mourning the tragic arc of her life. The man she had married had never truly loved her. The boy she had yearned for all these years was not the one who had saved her.
One wrong step had led to another, and now...she no longer had the power to make things right.
Her family was still within Dongsha. She could flee with the merman, yes—but what would become of them?
Tears streaming down her face, she shook her head over and over. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
The merman gently wiped away her tears. “You don’t have to apologize. This was never your fault.”
“It is my fault,” the Queen sobbed. “If I hadn’t been so willful and sneaked off to sea, I never would’ve met you. If I hadn’t stubbornly insisted on marrying him, I wouldn’t have dragged my whole family down. And if I hadn’t come to see you again, I wouldn’t have put you in danger.”
Then she turned, kneeling before the King. “Your Majesty, all of this is my doing. He is innocent. If someone must die—let it be me. Please, spare him.”
“You—” The King trembled with fury, his vision going dark. In front of the entire court, his Queen knelt to plead for another man.
What did that make him? What did that make his crown?
He forced himself to breathe. “You’ve long been unwell. Your mind is clouded. I’ll forgive this moment of madness. Guards—take Her Majesty back to the palace. Ensure she receives proper treatment.”
Then, his eyes turned cruel as he looked to the merman. “As for him—execute him on the spot.”
“No!” the Queen screamed, struggling wildly. But she was too weak to resist the soldiers holding her back. Powerless, she was dragged away from the merman.
Luo Han watched it all unfold. She stepped forward, about to speak and stop the King from adding blood to tragedy, but just then, a sharp scream rang out.
She turned in shock only to see the Queen wrench a blade from a soldier’s waist and raise it to her own throat.
The concubines and palace maids let out cries of panic. The King’s face contorted in fury and panic. “Yanran! What are you doing? You would threaten me with your life—for a mere merman?!”
“‘To find one heart, and never part till white-haired.’ Do you remember how happy we were before you ascended the throne?” The Queen held the blade to her throat. Her face showed no fear—only a mix of wistfulness and resolution. “But all of it...is gone now. Since Your Majesty no longer cares, then I too shall sever my ties. From this moment on, all debts between us are repaid.”
With a sudden motion, she sliced through her hair. Long strands scattered like black silk in the sea breeze. The palace women shrieked—“The Queen has gone mad!” Even her old maidservant collapsed in tears. “Miss, Madam said before she passed...that you must live well. You must treasure your life!”
At the mention of her late mother, the Queen could no longer hold back her tears.
The King stood frozen, numb. He couldn’t tell if what he felt was sorrow or regret. “Yanran...I know you’ve suffered all these years. Put down the blade. We can start over.”
His voice was soft, almost pleading—but the Queen no longer hesitated. “I don’t want to start over. This mistake began with me, and I’ll end it. Our bond is severed. With this life, I buy his freedom.”
And with those words, she turned the blade on herself.
A chorus of horrified screams rang out. The merman’s eyes widened in desperation as he lunged forward. “No—!”
In the chaos, time seemed to freeze.
The Queen suddenly found herself surrounded by a field of pure white light. Standing before her was a stunning young woman—elegant, otherworldly.
She recognized her instantly. The entire island had been talking about them since their arrival. Her maids had whispered rumors about this mysterious group for days. Now, seeing her in person, the Queen was startled. “Miss Luo?”
Among the group, Luo Han was the most beautiful—yet seemed the most unremarkable. Ling Qingxiao needed no introduction. Ye Zinan was a noble heir, Feng Yujia a phoenix princess, and Zou Jibai bore the legacy of a sacred beast. Everyone carried an illustrious background—except Luo Han, who had never been introduced.
The Queen had assumed Luo Han rose to their ranks by beauty alone.
She had never imagined...this was the one whose depths none could fathom.
Luo Han looked at her quietly and asked, “You only get one life. Yes, you’re disappointed in your husband. But are you truly certain this is the only way? Have you truly thought it through?”
“I have.” The Queen’s gaze was calm, all doubts dissolved. “Only in death will he release my family. My parents raised me—I’ve already failed them. I won’t let my personal entanglements drag the entire clan down. I’m willing.”
Luo Han never interfered with another’s fate. If this was the Queen’s choice, she would not stand in her way. She nodded and began to lift the illusion. “Very well. If this is your will, Heaven will not interfere. In your next life...choose more wisely.”
“I will.” The Queen smiled faintly, a wistful dream shimmering in her eyes. “I always yearned to see the world outside—but in this life, it was not meant to be. Immortal...are all women out there like you?”
Luo Han gave no answer, her eyes calm as still water. “If you wish to know, see for yourself in the next life.”
The Queen closed her eyes with a smile. The white light vanished. Luo Han had never moved from her place.
The Queen’s hand trembled—then, in one swift stroke, she slashed her own throat.
Blood bloomed like red blossoms across the stone.
The King stared at the sight, dazed. His voice trembled. “All these years...did you ever truly love me?”
“I did,” the Queen whispered, her lifeblood draining. “Back then, I believed you were him. I loved you very deeply...But that love died a long time ago.”
With the last of her strength, she lifted her head to look at the merman. He was bloodied and broken, dragging himself inch by inch toward her. She reached for him, uncaring of the blood pouring from her neck.
But she only made it two steps before her strength gave out. Her hand fell to the floor, outstretched...yet forever short of his.
Just a breath away. Yet that breath was eternity. The Queen was dead.
And the merman lost all strength. The outside world faded. The King, his people, the immortals—they no longer mattered.
She looked just as she had all those years ago, the day he pulled her from the sea—so delicate, so innocent.
Back then, he had saved her. This time, he could not.
In this life...he would never see her eyes open again.
A bone blade formed in the merman’s palm.
Luo Han sighed. “Why is it none of you are willing to live? Death ends all. Are you certain?”
“If she is gone, I cannot remain.” With a final, desperate cry, he drove the blade into his heart. Green blood poured from his veins as he collapsed beside her, using the last of his strength to pull her into his arms.
“This is good,” he murmured, holding her close. “Now you are mine—forever. Love is selfish. It is possession. It is throwing away everything. From now on, no one can separate us again.”
Feng Yujia and Ye Zinan looked on and sighed. The sea people were also monogamous—but compared to avian clans, they were far more extreme. Mermen were born for love, and they died for it. They disregarded all rules and decency. Even if their beloved was already married, they would chase them to the end. If they couldn’t have them, they would die together.
And so, they had more tragedies than any other race.
When a merman dies, their body dissolves into gentle light, returning to the sea.
They love fiercely—and they die with abandon. No trace remains.
The Queen lay cradled in his arms, and with him, faded into foam.
Luo Han raised a hand, collecting the drifting light into two glowing orbs. Within them, faint silhouettes—a man and a woman. With a wave of her sleeve, the orbs turned to streaks of light and vanished into the sea, bound for rebirth.
Each would carry a fragment of past life memory. Whether they would meet again in the next life—whether they would find their way to each other—was up to fate.
The King watched Luo Han, stunned. She had collected their souls and sent them to reincarnation. What kind of cultivation did that require?
Wasn’t this woman just a decorative face?
Luo Han turned to him, her voice calm. “They are dead. In death, all debts are cleared. Dust to dust, earth to earth. What’s past is past—it must not be pursued further. The Queen did not wish for her family to suffer. What say you?”
The King hadn't yet processed what was happening. Luo Han’s question left him momentarily stunned. “This...naturally.”
He said it just to appease these powerful guests—people he could not afford to offend. He hadn’t truly intended to let things go. But the moment his words fell, the King suddenly felt an invisible force binding him, as though...he had entered into a contract.
“You’ve agreed.” Luo Han’s voice was crisp as she sealed the pact. “I trust you’ll keep your word. If you violate it—you’ll lose the thing you hold most dear.”
A cold chill ran down the King’s spine. No one would willingly be shackled like this. But with Ling Qingxiao silently standing beside Luo Han, the King, despite all his inner resentment, dared not protest.
He gave a stifled nod.
Just then, a song began to echo across the sea. Luo Han turned and saw countless mermen rising from the waves, drifting along the currents, singing beneath the moonlight to mourn their fallen kin.
Yet to the merfolk, dying for love was not a tragedy—it was their destiny. The one leading them, the strongest among them with the longest, most elegant tail fin, turned back to glance at the group. Luo Han watched him for a moment—then suddenly understood.
She quickly gestured to Ling Qingxiao. “Follow them. They’re leading us to the Xuan Turtle.”

Author’s Note:
“To find one heart, and never part till white-haired.” — White-Haired Lament
In truth, that poem has one more line: “Now I’ve heard your heart has turned—so I come to bid farewell.”