“You’re not actually planning to listen, are you? Right here?”
“I get teenage hormones—but have some damn sense of timing!” Wei Qiuying sneered.
“If you even *think* about telling it, I’ll beat the crap out of you!”
I shot her a glare. A strange rustle came from behind. Swinging my flashlight around, I saw several long-haired Whispering Maidens crawling up the distant lower steps toward us, their bodies twisted into grotesque postures.
“No time for dirty jokes—the show’s starting!”
Wei Qiuying yanked a flare gun and a small cubic box from her backpack.
I squinted. It was a compact speaker—what we’d call a subwoofer.
“Are you freaking Doraemon or something?”
“Cut the crap. I’ll lure the Pulao and Whispering Maidens above. When it’s clear, you charge like hell!”
“Listen once: beneath the throne’s right armrest lies a mechanism. Sit first, *then* press it. That leads to the Palace of the Corrupted Heart.”
“Those were your mom’s exact words! Memorize it—*damn it*!”
Her words were rapid but crystal clear. Before I could nod, Wei Qiuying vanished into the dark, night-vision goggles strapped tight.
I swung the beam back. The late-arriving Whispering Maidens scrambled up the stairs at terrifying speed, nearly upon me. No signal from Wei yet. Hunched low, I crept higher, crouched on the steps, scanning warily. Trapped between a rock and a hard place. My nerves felt exactly like that time in English class—zero prep for dictation, frantically flipping pages under the desk.
...
A flare erupted far across the staircase, flooding the Royal Citadel in sudden light.
I jolted. Thumping nightclub beats blasted from the distance. The Whispering Maidens on the upper tiers erupted into frenzy, swarming toward the sound. The Pulao’s massive crimson orbs swiveled sharply that way.
*Wei Qiuying had begun!*
Relief surged. I tensed to sprint—then froze. Illuminated above, the vaulted ceiling revealed a colossal, vivid mural:
The black Pulao stood unmistakable. Behind it, Dragon Tamer Clan members in brilliant robes knelt in worship. *Above* the Pulao, a strangely postured human figure knelt, arms raised high as if offering something.
A second flare shot skyward—*for me*.
Snapping back, I charged upward, taking three steps at a time. The Pulao was fully distracted. I burst onto the vast summit platform. The fading light caught a five-meter cyan throne near the stone wall, gleaming starkly. A few stray Whispering Maidens lingered nearby—but I ignored them. Teeth gritted, knife gripped tight, I surged forward with slash-anything resolve.
Then I saw it: the entire space before the throne stained deep crimson.
I had to cross it.
...
Stepping in, my boots stuck. The stench hit me—*that* foul, millennia-old blood oozing from Whispering Maidens. I pushed on. Blood rose to my knees. The reek choked me; I gagged uncontrollably.
...
[An enormous blood reservoir lay before the throne!]
Thankfully, the flare dimmed—blurring the pool’s horrors. Nearby Whispering Maidens didn’t attack. They crouched at the edge, silently watching.
*Flash!* A third flare blazed—Wei’s pathlight. The music had faded.
And I saw: a headless Whispering Maiden’s torso half-submerged ahead, one arm visible, soaked crimson. All around, faint shapes of dismembered “parts” floated in the blood.
Further on—I froze.
Thanks to Wei’s flare, every detail burned into view.
My legs trembled.
“Wh-what… *what is this*…”
At the pool’s end, countless severed “parts” formed a revolting mound.
...
The horror struck deep: Whispering Maidens’ limbs mirrored humans’. This wasn’t just gore—it felt like a deranged killer’s exhibition of dismembered victims.
...
No forced imagination needed. This sight alone triggered primal human dread.
Some half-bodies twitched slightly—fresh additions.
Understanding crashed over me.
[“Mom said: Pulao’s piercing cry lures Whispering Maidens… to be devoured.”]
[“That ten-minute wail at the Citadel’s base? Pulao’s call.”]
(Stepping over the corpse-heap, I waded out, reached the throne.)
The stench had numbed my nose. My face felt hollow.
[“But *this* Pulao arrived *after* the wailing stopped. The cry came from *inside* the Royal Citadel.”]
[“So… it wasn’t the Pulao.”]
(Gripping the throne, I climbed up, settled in, fingers finding the protrusion beneath the right armrest.)
I lifted my gaze.
The ceiling mural loomed majestic. From this seat, golden murals lined both walls of the entire Royal Citadel. As light faded, their glow dimmed—like the Dragon Tamer Clan’s civilization fading from glory to silence.
This golden hall, once radiant, now slept forgotten beneath the lake.
...
...
So…
What *was* wailing inside the Royal Citadel?
Why *must* Mom and I meet in the Palace of the Corrupted Heart?
Why endure all this?
All of it…
Time to lift the curtain.
(I pressed the mechanism.)
