On the small, lonely island, eerie sounds filled the air — a woman's wail tangled with the howls of wild beasts. It was the kind of noise that could make even the bravest soul uneasy. Even in broad daylight, the wind seemed to carry faint, human-like screams.
Lang Huan and Lang Ruhua exchanged uneasy glances. This was not a place for ordinary people; without strong inner strength to shield themselves from the sound, their eardrums might have been torn apart. Both of them wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
"Don't you want to take something from here?" It was ironic — so many had fought and risked their lives to reach this treasure, yet the one who stood here now seemed uninterested.
Lang Huan shook her head. "I don't lack anything. And besides, whoever designed this place clearly didn't intend for anyone to take all the treasure. Look around — nothing but the black sea, and only one small boat. It's still a question whether we can even make it back to the outside world alive."
Her words trailed off as her gaze fell on a sword clutched in the hands of an armored statue. Something about it drew her in, and a voice kept whispering her name.
She reached out, fingers brushing over the cold hilt, and the voice vanished instantly. The craftsmanship was exquisite. When she pulled it free, the blade gleamed, thin, flexible, and light.
Her fingertips grazed the edge in a daze. She hissed softly as a bead of blood welled up and vanished, seeping into the blade's pores.
"That's… creepy," she muttered, sliding the sword back into its sheath and placing it on the stand.
The sword began to tremble, the vibrations intensifying until the entire statue cracked.
"I think you have to take the sword," Lang Ruhua said calmly. "It's angry because you abandoned it."
A chill ran down Lang Huan's spine. She reached for the hilt again. The moment she touched it, the sword stilled as if soothed by her presence.
Lang Huan had no intention of taking it, so she let go. As if reading her thoughts, the weapon suddenly leapt forward and smacked her on the head with a metallic thunk.
"Ow! Damn it…" Lang Huan winced, rubbing the sore spot on her head. With no other choice, she finally decided to keep the sword.
After securing it at her side, her eyes wandered over the remaining treasures. She picked up a finely crafted gold bangle and slipped it onto Lang Ruhua's wrist."For remembrance,"
Lang Ruhua glanced at it, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Not bad."
The moment she adjusted the bangle, a strange sensation crept over her. When she tried to remove it, the metal abruptly tightened—tighter and tighter—until it bit into her skin. A sharp sting followed, and a thin line of blood trickled down her wrist. Slowly, the blood seeped into the bangle, and it loosened, returning to its normal shape.
Are all the treasures here cursed? she thought, her gaze sweeping across the room. Ancient relics, jewels, gold, and silver lay scattered across the floor in great heaps, their beauty masking a dark and possibly bloody past.
She glanced warily at the bracelet, but since it was a gift from Lang Huan, she kept it on despite her unease.
As she passed a standing mirror, her reflection caught her eye—flawless as carved jade. Since eating the mystical fruit, her meridians had fully recovered. She ran her fingers through her long black hair, smooth and dark as midnight silk. The bracelet shimmered faintly under the dim light, enhancing the refined grace of her entire appearance.
Then, like a venomous whisper, a voice slithered into her mind, telling her the Eldest Princess was far more beautiful than she could ever be—followed by soft, mocking laughter. Her chest tightened.
Lang Ruhua didn't believe in ghosts. Seeing that Lang Huan experienced nothing unusual, she concluded it was probably just an illusion and chose to ignore it.
"Lang Huan, don't you want to bring something for Feng Yao?" Lang Ruhua asked as they passed piles of glittering treasure.
"She's not lacking in gold or jewelry. If I make it back safely this time, the first thing I'll do is marry her."
Lang Huan had once planned to melt down the golden scale and forge it into a ring. But if they waited until they arrived in Luo City, she worried their wedding plans might be disrupted. It would be better for them to marry before returning there.
Whether by coincidence or fate, as they approached the exit, her gaze fell on a pair of exquisite rings nestled in a carved jade box. She stepped closer, brushing her fingers over them.
With the rings safely tucked away, a faint smile touched her lips at the thought of slipping one onto Feng Yao's finger. "Let's go."
Lang Huan and Lang Ruhua pushed the small boat into the black sea. The water was so dark it seemed bottomless, swallowing what little light there was. A foul, metallic scent thick with the stench of blood hung in the air, and the surface rippled as if something unseen moved just beneath.
They climbed aboard, the wood creaking under their weight. The boat rocked uneasily, and each splash of the oars echoed too loudly in the oppressive silence. From time to time, a cold gust swept past, carrying faint whispers that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end.
Lang Ruhua told Lang Huan to rest her oar on the side of the boat. Then, lifting her palm, she released a powerful surge of qi that struck the water. The small boat jolted forward, gliding smoothly across the black sea, following the pull of the waves. Neither of them knew where it would eventually dock.
"Lang Huan… I'm scared," she murmured, her voice trembling as she leaned into Lang Huan's embrace, seeking warmth and reassurance.
"You say you're scared, yet you still jumped after me into the depths of the sea," Lang Huan replied softly, her hand tracing slow, soothing circles over Lang Ruhua's back.
Still, she found it hard to believe that a woman like Lang Ruhua could be frightened.
What Lang Ruhua truly feared was not the sea. It was the moment she would see Lang Huan standing before Feng Yao again, her eyes lit with a tenderness that had never belonged to anyone else.
That look alone would be enough to make Ruhua feel as though she had vanished from the world entirely.
So she stayed in Lang Huan's arms a little longer, trying to steal just one more heartbeat before that gaze was no longer hers to see.
Her hand gently touched Lang Huan's face. "Do you want to know how two women in our Lang clan can… have a child?"
Lang Huan's gaze met hers, their faces only a breath apart. She shook her head, afraid that Lang Ruhua might say something that would make her heart pound wildly.
"Close your eyes and sleep." Lang Huan hurriedly changed the subject, making Lang Ruhua chuckle at her nervous expression.
Lang Huan lifted her palm and struck the surface with her own qi, imitating Lang Ruhua. The boat surged forward even faster. Hours passed as they drifted across the black sea, the air growing colder, the current subtly shifting beneath them.
Gradually, the gentle pull of the waves turned into a stronger, more insistent force. The current quickened, tugging the small boat toward an unseen destination. In the distance, a deep, thundering roar began to rise, blending with the sound of the wind.
Because the night was pitch-black and the water was like ink, neither Lang Huan nor Lang Ruhua realized what awaited them ahead.
The roar grew louder with each heartbeat, the current dragging them faster and faster. Only when a spray of mist brushed their faces did the truth reveal itself—they were rushing straight toward the edge of a massive waterfall.