“That’s just too much! It was one tiny bite—why be so stingy?” Tangxue huffed, pink fist cutting the seawater like a pebble skipping across a pond.

Just one bite… could it really hurt that bad? Her doubt pricked like a pin in a rolling tide.

He actually booted me off without a shred of mercy, words cold as sleet on stone—hmph.

“Fine, I’ll go! You don’t want me anyway, so I’ll just leave,” she snapped, voice wobbling like a lantern in wind.

After Dreamsound literally kicked her out, Tangxue couldn’t swallow the grievance, a sand-grit itch under the heart.

It wasn’t even much of a grievance, but it stung like salt in a cut.

She spun on her tail and left in a flare of bubbles, suitcase-light since everything was already packed like shells in a net.

Now she was headed for the nearest shore to the Duskmoon Empire, her hope a thin moon over black water.

But she got lost on the seafloor, the world a maze of blue pillars and shadowed dunes.

“This sea goes on forever—how am I supposed to find the way?” Tangxue clawed at her hair like a crab at kelp.

Before, Dreamsound would go biu~ and they’d arrive, a single spark across a night sky.

Now, with Dreamsound gone, the currents were knotted ropes, and every path felt like mist.

Helpless, Tangxue lowered her head, a wilted blossom drifting in the tide.

“Wait… what’s that?”

In Qingsheng Tangxue’s sight, a colossal octopus rose like a black moon, dark-blue sigils rippling across its skin.

Invisible maelstroms spun around it, shredding the water like phantom saws, and every thick tentacle bristled with backward barbs like hooked thorns.

Rough guess—it spanned several kilometers, a mountain moving beneath the waves.

Only an adult dragon or a muscle-unshackled mountain giant could stand with it, two storms colliding over a cliff.

This lord-of-a-region sea beast bore a savage, grand name: the Abyssal Maelstrom King.

It was also one of Qingyu Mengyin’s few “friends,” a sparse constellation around a cold moon.

That old woman loved her tentacle beasts most of all—hmph, vines she’d happily cultivate.

“Wait, Uncle Octopus, don’t go! I just need you to lead the way,” she called, voice bright as a bell over surf.

“Oh my little ancestor, don’t you make trouble for me,” boomed the octopus, backing away like a mountain sliding off a glacier. “I’m just passing by, just passing by!”

Because its body was too huge, even with Tangxue swimming hard like an arrowed fish, she could only barely keep pace.

After a long chase, the two finally stopped, breath and bubbles hanging like fog.

“Little ancestor… don’t chase me anymore. These old bones are rattling like driftwood,” the octopus begged, voice hollow as a cave.

“Wait for me, Uncle Octopus! I’m not here to play this time,” Tangxue panted, eyes bright as coins. “I’m lost… do you know the way to the beach closest to the Duskmoon Empire?”

“I don’t know anything! If you want directions, go ask your mother,” he snapped, voice cracking like a breaking oar.

“Don’t get so worked up,” she said, gold eyes blinking pure as morning dew. “I left with Dream— with permission. Something happened, and I forgot the road.”

“Little ancestor, why’re you sneaking off again? If you keep running wild, Lord Qingyu Mengyin will be heartbroken, like rain bruising a blossom.”

“I told you, she agreed!” Qingsheng Tangxue shouted, temper flaring like a struck match. “I’m not the kind who just runs wild.”

The octopus rolled a very vivid eye, a full moon doing a lazy turn.

If someone hadn’t looted the treasure it had cherished for centuries, he might’ve believed her.

Worst of all, she triggered the last mechanism, and to keep this little ancestor safe, he had to self-destruct his “paradise,” a coral garden blown like autumn leaves.

After Tangxue recounted everything, tide by tide, he listened with a face like stone; disbelief still clung like barnacles.

“So this time I really need your help, Uncle Octopus,” she said softly, voice a ribbon on the current. “I’m truly lost.”

“Little ancestor, I think you shouldn’t meddle in the continent’s affairs,” the Abyssal Maelstrom King said, gaze deep as trench-shadow.

“I’m meddling in my own affairs, not the continent’s,” she answered, meeting those judging eyes like starlight meeting a well.

At last, the octopus sighed, surrender rolling off him like a settling tide. “If you truly left with Lord Qingyu Mengyin’s consent, I can guide you.”

“Yay!” Her cheer bubbled up like a spring.

“Climb on.”

The Abyssal Maelstrom King drew in all his aura, even that terrible pull that turned seas into ropes, then slowly extended a barbless tentacle like a careful bridge.

Qingsheng Tangxue didn’t resist; that “small” tentacle coiled around her like a sash, and lifted her onto his head as gently as a wave lifting a leaf.

Compared to other creatures, his head was slick as polished stone; without the tentacle, she’d slide off like rain off slate.

Being wrapped by tentacles didn’t feel great—tight as a too-fast current.

But she was in mermaid form, so no weird bondage play was happening, just secure knots like a sailor’s craft.

Sitting on Uncle Octopus’s head was only for the view, a lighthouse set above the swell.

“Sit tight. We’re moving,” the Abyssal Maelstrom King thundered, his voice echoing through the water like drums in a canyon, as the giant body surged toward their goal.

“Mhm~!” she chirped, joy light as foam. Not having to swim myself is bliss, a boat hitching a ride on the moon.

…

Meanwhile, a small episode broke the surface like a fin.

The moment the Abyssal Maelstrom King began to move, the sea above heaved, a tsunami rearing like a wall of mountains.

“Bad news, boss! A sea beast’s on us again!” a sailor yelped, voice sharp as a gull’s cry.

“What?!” The bearded middle-aged boss kicked the table, the thud booming like a drum.

“Why do I hit this kind of rotten luck every voyage?” he roared, anger spitting sparks like a forge.

“Boss, what do we do? The sea beast’s below us… it’s chasing, waves biting at our keel!”

“Do you really need to ask? Run! Run like a rabbit with a hawk on it!”

“Awooo!” The crew howled, a kennel of hounds in a storm.

“…”

“No use, boss! It’s too fast—like thunder on our heels!”

“Then dump the cargo! I’m not swimming down there again,” he snapped, face black as charcoal, eyes hot as coals.

“But… oh…” The sailor saw that soot-dark face, and swallowed his words like a stone into a well.

Clearly, this wasn’t the boss’s first dance with sea devils, scars hidden like knots in wood.

So Huang Engong fled across the surface all night, eyes wide as lanterns, wake glowing like a silver scar.