Volume One: Hidden in the Azure Abyss Chapter One

Eighty thousand years had passed since the end of the war between gods and demons. Peace now reigned across the Six Realms, yet the whereabouts of the Ninefold Emperor remained unknown—a lingering mystery in the heavens.

Lotus River

In the spring, the Lotus River was densely adorned with lotus blooms, forming a stream of subtle elegance. Though the delicate flowers had not yet opened, their fragrance wafted softly through the air. The emerald lotus leaves, large as platters, floated atop the clear pond, where bright koi drifted freely and unhurried.

Jinli reclined in a small boat among the lotus, her face shaded by a lotus leaf. Her legs were crossed, hands resting naturally on her stomach, the very image of leisure. Beside her, a fishing rod lay quietly, undisturbed by the passage of time.

“Lady Jin, Lady Jin, something’s wrong!”

The anxious voice of Yun Xiang shattered the tranquil morning.

Jinli did not move. Her reply drifted lazily from beneath the lotus leaf, unhurried and calm, “Don’t be anxious. Tell me slowly.”

Yun Xiang gazed at the sea of lotus leaves, locating Jinli only by her voice, and said, “Lady Jin, the Crown Prince of the Southern Sea has sent another formal request—he seeks your medicine. He waits now outside Pear Blossom Valley.”

“For his mother, again?”

Yun Xiang confirmed with a soft assent. Jinli removed the lotus leaf, bent one knee, and rested her hand upon it with feigned nonchalance. “I’ve told him before: his mother’s fate is her own tribulation. If he forces her lifespan to continue, the entire Southern Sea will suffer the wrath of the heavens. Does he truly wish to see all the Southern Sea buried for her sake?”

Yun Xiang pondered, then asked, “Shall I tell the Crown Prince to stop waiting and return home?”

“You explained it to him last time, did you not? No need to repeat yourself. Let him wait. When he tires of waiting, he’ll leave of his own accord.”

Yun Xiang nodded and took her leave.

Jinli gazed at the swaying lotuses and leaves, at the flower buds poised to bloom, and smiled. “Spring has come again. I wonder if I will see you blossom this year.”

She reeled in the fishing line, her eyes shining with laughter as she watched the koi in the clear water. Rising to her feet, she gripped a slender pole; dressed in moon-white robes, tall and graceful, she guided her small boat through the floating duckweed, gliding downstream.

Spring was radiant and boundless. The pear trees by the shore, while not as splendid as those in Pear Blossom Valley, were heavy with snowy blossoms, their fragrance sweet as honey.

Jinli stopped, her clear gaze falling on a white boulder ahead. Her eyes brightened and a faint smile curved her lips.

The rock was pure white, sparkling in the sun as if dusted with stardust. It had been a tribute from the Western Sea Prince. She’d paid it little mind at first, asking Yun Xiang to place it somewhere in the Lotus River.

Now, upon the stone, sat a figure with hair white as snow. His bare chest and powerful arms were adorned with tiny pearls, pearls also decorating the fins at his ears. He lounged with his back to her, hands braced against the rock, basking carelessly in the sun and breeze, humming a quiet tune.

A merman.

“Little merman?”

Jinli had not wished to disturb his contentment, but to remain silent would feel like spying—an act beneath her. She had always conducted herself openly, never sneaking or hiding, especially not on her own domain.

At the sound of her voice, the merman startled and dove into the water with a splash, vanishing in a heartbeat.

It was said merfolk were wary of strangers, and this seemed true—he had been genuinely frightened. Jinli smiled, stepped lightly onto the wind, and landed on the boulder. She drew closer, then crouched, peering at the merman who now clung to the rock, peeking out from behind it.

“Are you lost, little merman?”

Startled, the merman looked up. Jinli could swear it was the most beautiful face she had ever seen.

Near ethereal in beauty, with eyes blue as a field of stars, skin white as snow, golden lashes fluttering, and lips like crabapple petals kissed by dew, as if misted by a spring rain—a sight to stir the soul.

But in an instant, the merman vanished beneath the surface, leaving only the fleeting glimpse of a tail, iridescent as morning clouds.

Jinli stood, a flush rising in her cheeks, her heart beating wildly as if it might leap from her chest. Pressing a hand to her heart, she stepped back and noticed a jade pendant lying forgotten upon the stone.

She picked it up. It was smooth and rounded, not of the finest quality, but the ornate silk cord made it quite lovely—simple jade, elaborate cord, a pleasing contrast. At its center was a single character, likely in the language of merfolk, which she did not understand—but Yun Xiang surely would. She held it in her palm, gazing through the lotus leaves. It seemed important to the merman. He would have to return for it himself.

A wisp of cloud, and Jinli departed the Lotus River. Far beneath the surface, the merman watched her go, his eyes deep with unreadable emotion.

Night fell.

Jinli traced the jade pendant between her fingers, recalling the events of the day. The memory of that face brought a flush to her cheeks.

Yun Xiang entered with a pot of floral tea, observing his mistress’s thoughtful yet radiant demeanor with a smile. “Lady Jin, have you received some happy news? You’re positively glowing.”

Jinli smiled, lifting her cup. “And how would you know?”

“Of course I know. Every time you return from the Lotus River, you come back smiling.”

Jinli laughed softly.

She handed Yun Xiang the jade pendant. “Yun Xiang, you know the language of merfolk. Tell me, what does this character mean?”

Accepting the pendant, Yun Xiang examined it, then returned it. “Lady Jin, it is the character for ‘Purity.’”

Jinli fell silent, lost in thought. Yun Xiang continued, “The jade is fine, but not of the sea. It appears to be from the land. Lady Jin, where did you find it?”

Jinli shook her head. “I found it by the boulder in the Lotus River.” Yun Xiang’s face grew serious. “An outsider has entered? Should I investigate?”

Jinli’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “No need. He’ll come to us on his own.”

Yun Xiang was left thoroughly confused, but took his leave. The demon realm was behaving itself these days; it seemed nothing serious.

Jinli asked, “Has the Crown Prince of the Southern Sea left?”

Yun Xiang shook his head. “No, he has neither guards nor attendants—he waits alone outside Pear Blossom Valley for your summons.”

“Alone?”

Yun Xiang nodded again.

Jinli smiled. “Let him wait, then. Let’s see how many days he’ll endure.”

Three days passed. Jinli had overestimated the importance of the pendant to the young merman. She had thought to quietly resolve the matter by having Yun Xiang return the pendant to where it was found. Yet the image of the merman lingered in her mind, refusing to fade.

It was his beauty—striking enough to be unforgettable.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, Yun Xiang entered. “Lady Jin, the Crown Prince…”

Jinli pressed her brow, eyes closed, speaking idly, “Has he gone home?”

Yun Xiang shook his head. “No, and now two others have joined him. The whole valley has seen them waiting, and rumors are swirling that there is some feud between you and the prince.”

Jinli opened her eyes, her gaze icy. “The Crown Prince is determined to make trouble for me.”

With that, she rose to her feet. “Come, let’s see for ourselves.”

Yun Xiang followed Jinli out of the Lotus River to find the people of the valley gathered at the entrance, craning their necks for a glimpse. Yun Xiang hastily explained the situation and sent them away, while Jinli, arms folded, sat with a look of displeasure.

She was certain she had never provoked the Southern Sea, yet now the Crown Prince came to the Lotus River every other day, a persistent headache. She sat in a bamboo chair, tapping the table with a single finger, her face expressionless and her tone low.

“Let the Crown Prince in.”

Yun Xiang, sensing her lady’s irritation but unsure what else to do, could only hope the Crown Prince would know when to yield.