The Sea That Looked Back

Lang Tuyet raised her eyes toward the sky.

For the first time since nearly ten days of drifting across the Sea Region, the constant thoughtfulness in her gaze finally eased. The familiar low layers of gray cloud had fallen behind them, replaced by a long bank of clouds stretching across the horizon like a distant mountain range.

She took out the wooden block she had used as a marker, looked at the two cuts carved into its surface, and dropped it into the sea.

An hour passed.

Then another.

The block did not appear again.

Lang Tuyet remained beside the railing for a long while before finally breathing out.

“Good.”

Hao Nhien, standing not far away, turned toward her.

“What’s good?”

“At least this time…”

She looked back toward the waters they had already crossed, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly.

“We actually left somewhere.”

Hao Nhien laughed.

After spending days repeatedly returning to the same stretch of sea, no longer seeing that insignificant wooden block was indeed enough to make a person feel relieved.

Lang Tuyet withdrew her gaze and suddenly asked,

“So what direction are we traveling now?”

“Across the Sea Region.”

“I asked for the heading.”

“Don’t know.”

She looked at him helplessly.

“You do realize those are two very different things?”

“Of course.”

“And you’re still this calm?”

Hao Nhien looked ahead.

After thinking for a moment, he answered,

“Not knowing the road doesn’t mean we’ve chosen the wrong direction.”

“At the very least, we’re entering waters we haven’t crossed before instead of returning to the same place.”

Lang Tuyet was silent for a moment.

Then she slowly nodded.

“That is true.”

She stored the remaining wooden marker.

“But I still want a proper sea chart.”

“So do I.”

The two looked at each other and laughed.

Sea wind crossed the deck, bringing cool moisture with it. Far ahead, the unfamiliar cloudbanks continued drifting across the horizon while the Cosmic Ark followed the deep current Hao Nhien had chosen.

No one knew where the current would ultimately lead.

But at least the scenery ahead had begun to change.

Three days later, the Cosmic Ark unexpectedly slowed.

At the time, Hao Nhien was circulating True Qi inside one of the cultivation rooms.

The moment he felt the subtle change in the vessel’s movement, he withdrew his intention and stepped outside.

Lang Tuyet was already on deck.

Lanh Hoa stood near the bow.

Little Spirit sat on the railing in its usual posture.

All three were looking ahead.

The sea had changed.

The wind had nearly vanished.

The surface was so still that not a single ripple could be seen.

Yet there was nothing peaceful about that calm.

From directly beneath the Ark to the distant horizon, the water stretched out like a dark surface of polished stone.

It reflected neither the pale gray sky nor the clouds above.

Even the Cosmic Ark itself cast no reflection beneath it.

Lang Tuyet stared down for a while.

“No shadow.”

Hao Nhien stepped beside her.

The water was clearly there.

Still.

Deep.

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And yet looking into it created the strange impression that nothing existed beneath the surface at all.

He began extending spiritual sense.

“Not too deep.”

Little Spirit’s voice suddenly sounded behind him.

Hao Nhien stopped immediately and turned toward the child.

“Why?”

Little Spirit lowered its gaze toward the sea.

Its small brows drew together slightly.

It thought for a long time before answering.

“Don’t know.”

“Only remember… shouldn’t.”

Hao Nhien watched it for several breaths.

Then slowly withdrew his spiritual sense.

Little Spirit’s memory remained incomplete.

But a warning that had somehow survived from the past was worth taking seriously—especially in waters none of them understood.

Lang Tuyet turned toward it as well.

“You know this place?”

“Don’t remember the name.”

“Have you been here before?”

Little Spirit tilted its head.

It appeared to search its fragmented memory.

“Maybe.”

Lang Tuyet sighed softly.

“Your answers are always extremely useful.”

The child nodded with complete seriousness.

“Mm.”

Lang Tuyet stared at it.

For once, she could not think of a response.

Hao Nhien suppressed a smile and returned his attention to the sea.

The Cosmic Ark was still moving forward.

Only much more slowly.

No force seemed to be pushing it backward.

The hull showed no sign of pressure.

Yet its movement had become sluggish, as though it were traveling through water possessing entirely different properties.

“Little Spirit, is there something wrong with the Ark?” Hao Nhien asked.

“No.”

“Then why did it slow down?”

The child looked beneath the ship.

“Water is different.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

He did not press further.

He could not determine what exactly was different, but at least the Cosmic Ark remained stable.

One hour passed.

Then another.

The surroundings barely changed.

There were no seabirds.

No fish.

No demonic beasts visible beneath the water.

Even the surrounding spiritual energy had become thin.

The silence was so complete that at times the sound of footsteps on deck seemed louder than the movement of water.

Lanh Hoa remained near the bow, watching the sea as always.

After a while, he suddenly moved closer to the railing and leaned forward.

One hand instinctively settled on the hilt of his sword.

Hao Nhien noticed immediately.

“What did you find?”

Lanh Hoa did not answer at once.

He stared down for several breaths.

His expression gradually became serious.

“A shadow.”

Hao Nhien walked over.

Sure enough, on the surface that reflected nothing else, a human figure had appeared directly beneath Lanh Hoa.

The clothes were familiar.

The sword at the waist was identical.

Even the facial features matched the man standing above.

But after looking more carefully, Hao Nhien immediately noticed something wrong.

Lanh Hoa was leaning slightly over the railing.

The figure beneath the water stood completely upright.

Its eyes were not looking upward.

They stared straight ahead, as though the reflection belonged to another person standing somewhere entirely separate.

Then the figure slowly lifted its head.

Its eyes looked directly up through the water.

Lanh Hoa’s fingers tightened slightly around his sword.

Standing beside him, Hao Nhien quietly said,

“I don’t sense killing intent.”

Lanh Hoa remained silent for a beat.

Then released his sword.

Strangely, the figure beneath the water also relaxed its hand, but its movement came slightly later and did not perfectly match the person above.

After a while, the image slowly blurred.

Then disappeared.

The sea returned to its original emptiness.

Lanh Hoa watched for several breaths.

Then turned and returned to his post.

Hao Nhien looked after him with some amusement.

“You’re not going to keep watching?”

“Not an enemy.”

Lanh Hoa’s answer was brief.

Then he resumed his watch at the bow.

Hao Nhien shook his head.

To Lanh Hoa, anything that did not pose an immediate threat apparently did not deserve much further attention.

Lang Tuyet had also approached.

She had witnessed the entire phenomenon.

When she looked into the sea, however, Lanh Hoa’s image was already gone.

“Let me try.”

She stepped closer to the railing.

The water below trembled faintly.

A figure slowly appeared.

It was Lang Tuyet.

The face.

The clothing.

Everything matched her present appearance.

But almost immediately, a second image appeared behind it.

Hao Nhien’s attention sharpened.

A woman dressed in ancient clothing stood not far behind the reflection of Lang Tuyet.

Her features were blurred.

Yet something about her appearance reminded Hao Nhien of the fleeting figure associated with Lang Tuyet that he had glimpsed within the Fate-Convergence Realm.

As he watched, the woman suddenly turned her head.

Her gaze moved directly toward him.

For one extremely brief moment, their eyes seemed to meet.

Then both images dissolved at once.

The sea became empty again.

Lang Tuyet remained beside the railing.

Only after a while did she turn toward Hao Nhien.

“You saw that too?”

Hao Nhien nodded.

Her gaze shifted subtly.

“You recognized her?”

“Not certainly.”

Hao Nhien shook his head.

“Only that she seemed familiar.”

Lang Tuyet remained quiet for a moment.

Then slowly looked back at the sea.

She did not ask what exactly Hao Nhien had seen before.

And he did not ask what that ancient-clothed woman might mean to her.

Hao Nhien remained beside the railing and began considering what had happened.

The sea reflected neither the ship, the clouds, nor ordinary objects.

But when Lanh Hoa and Lang Tuyet approached, images connected to them appeared.

More importantly, those images were not simple reflections.

Was this some type of illusion?

Or was the sea responding to something else entirely?

He did not rush to decide.

At that moment, however, the circulation of soul force within him suddenly fluctuated faintly.

There was no feeling of compulsion.

No pressure.

The currents of soul force continued moving according to the foundation of the Quan Family Soul Art.

But their rhythm seemed to slow for an instant.

Hao Nhien had the distinct feeling that something beneath the sea had quietly responded.

He slowly lowered his gaze.

An image appeared.

It was still his face.

But unlike the figures seen before, this image did not float directly upon the surface.

It seemed to exist far beneath the water.

So deep that only faint outlines could be seen.

Then lines of light began appearing within the figure.

They originated near the head.

Extended through the chest.

Then continued downward, intertwining into an extremely complex system of movement.

Some points intersected.

Others branched apart.

Occasionally, a tiny thread of light passed through one junction before slowly returning toward its original position.

Hao Nhien unconsciously held his breath.

Those glowing paths did not resemble ordinary bodily meridians.

Several of the junctions and the rhythm of their movement, however, were remarkably similar to the circulation of soul force he sensed within himself.

Most strikingly, when one line of light passed through a familiar intersection, Hao Nhien felt an almost corresponding fluctuation inside his own soul.

He immediately withdrew his active intention.

He did not probe deeper.

The image beneath the water remained.

It continued looking upward.

The luminous pathways within it circulated according to their own rhythm.

Caution rose within Hao Nhien.

He had no idea what this sea could do.

Nor did he understand why it was revealing something resembling the internal structure of his soul force.

Little Spirit’s earlier warning made him even less willing to send his spiritual sense farther down.

At that moment, a tiny ripple appeared beside the submerged image.

Hao Nhien frowned.

The ripple did not expand.

It merely trembled near the edge of one glowing line, as though something else were trying to take shape but had not yet condensed into a recognizable form.

A moment later, it disappeared.

Hao Nhien watched for a while.

Then turned toward Little Spirit.

“Come here.”

The child had been sitting on the railing farther away.

Hearing him, it jumped down and slowly walked over.

“What?”

“Look into the water.”

Little Spirit lowered its head.

Nothing happened.

The sea beneath it remained perfectly still.

No figure.

No image.