Chapter 3 — The Seven-Colored Blood of Sorrow

Little Sea Snail staggered forward, her steps trembling with every movement, yet she tilted her head back and let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. The sound echoed through the desolate expanse, as cold and hollow as a graveyard in the dead of winter. "Concubine... oh, dear Concubine... Is this the man for whom you risked your very life to bear a child?" She spat the words out, her voice dripping with venom. "How truly... how truly pathetic you are."

My spirit wept in silence. I am sorry, Little Sea Snail. I am so sorry. In this agonizing moment, I wish only to return to the day I first met Don Hien. If I could go back, I would turn away without a single moment of hesitation. I would not even spare him a fleeting glance, let alone allow myself to be ensnared by his cruel trap.

We walked for a long time, eventually reaching the site of my grave. It was hidden in the deepest, most desolate reach of the Divine Realm, a place where the biting frost pierced the soul and not a single blade of grass dared to grow. Little Sea Snail reached into her sleeve and produced the jade hairpin I had once gifted her. It was the only key; by plunging the hairpin into the stone wall guarding my tomb, the array I had carved with my own hands would be undone.

Don Hien’s eyes locked onto the hairpin, and his brows knit together in a sharp, jagged line. It was the only adornment I had ever worn, and the only gift he had ever deigned to give me—a cheap, worthless trinket he had bought in the mortal world, a mere plaything to the proud Dragon Clan. He stared at it for a long, suffocating moment, his voice vibrating with sudden, jagged rage. "How typical! So, you have found yourself a lover, and now you have the gall to hand him the very treasure I once bestowed upon you!"

Little Sea Snail offered a chilling, mirthless smile, a mocking hum lost in the biting wind. She struggled to lift her hand, desperate to drive the pin into the stone, but her wounds were too grave; time and again, her strength failed her. I am sorry, Little Sea Snail. The fault is mine. I should never have placed the focal point of the array so high. She collapsed repeatedly, her frail body slamming against the unforgiving ice until, finally, she fell completely still, unable to rise.

Don Hien, his patience vanished, lunged forward and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her upward with brute force. His voice thundered through the Divine Realm like a collapsing glacier. "Do you dare to toy with me?! You promised I would see the Concubine! Where is she?!"

Little Sea Snail wheezed, her finger trembling as she pointed toward the stone wall. "The Concubine... she is right behind this wall."

She gazed up at the high-reaching anchor point, heaving a sigh so heavy it felt as if her heart were tearing itself from her chest. Don Hien scoffed, snatched the jade pin from her hand, and plunged it into the stone with ferocious intensity. The mountain trembled, and the array flickered and dissolved. But behind the wall, there was nothing. It was empty. No bones, no artifacts, no Lu Sung Tran.

Don Hien froze, his expression darkening into a mask of pure, murderous shadow. Believing he had been deceived, his killing intent surged, dropping the temperature of the cavern to a freezing point in a heartbeat. Little Sea Snail leaned against the wall, her body wracked with tremors, her lips turning a deathly shade of violet, yet she refused to fall. I stood beside her, my spirit screaming in agony, desperate to shield her, yet I remained a ghost, powerless and tethered to this nightmare.

Suffering from such grievous wounds and exposed to the lethal frost of Don Hien’s aura, Little Sea Snail was at death’s door. Yet, she seemed indifferent to the cold, staring into the empty void. "Concubine... it has been a long time."

Indeed. It had been so long that my very remains had turned to ash and dust.

Suddenly, Don Hien lashed out, seizing Boi Boi by the throat and hoisting the tiny child into the air. She thrashed in a frenzy of terror, her small hands batting at the empty space, her legs kicking uselessly as her face turned a strangled, bruised purple.

"Very well!" he roared, his eyes bloodshot with fury. "You lot, just like Lu Sung Tran, think it is amusing to mock me? Then let the daughter of that harlot and her lover serve as a sacrifice to the heavens!"

With a violent flick of his wrist, he forced Boi Boi back into her original form—a small, iridescent pearl clam. She had not even had time to fully retract before he pried her shell open with cruel force, fresh blood dripping from the jagged edges. "Hmph, a single pearl? It seems your mother's lover was as pathetic as she was."

I shrieked in silent agony, but he could not hear me. I was a phantom, forced to watch as the child I had brought into this world was decimated. I had been trapped in Don Hien’s ice for a hundred years, and throughout that century, Boi Boi had been poisoned by the cold from within my womb. She was born barely clinging to life; I had sacrificed every drop of my essence to keep her alive, allowing her to grow only in the most stunted, fragile way. She was the lowest of the Seven-Colored Clams, capable of producing only one single, humble pearl.

"Enough!" I wailed into the void. "Don Hien, are you truly so lost that you would slaughter your own flesh and blood?"

In that moment of despair, the stench of blood wafted from the entrance of the Divine Realm. The Concubine, Ngoc Thu, entered, supported by her attendants. Her face was as pale as snow, her lips stained with fresh, crimson blood. She spoke in a weak, ghostly whisper, like a winter gale whistling through a canyon: "Brother... if this sister is unwilling, then let it be. I do not wish for you to compromise yourself for my sake..."

She shivered violently, her arms crossed over her chest, her lips trembling with the biting cold. Don Hien immediately rushed to her side, gathering her into his arms with a tender, protective intensity, wrapping her in his warmth as if she were his most cherished possession. Even though he had retracted his magic, the residual frost of three hundred years permeated the air, chilling the bone.

"Do not fear, Thu," he crooned, his voice softening. "For your sake, I would do anything. Even if that woman refuses to emerge, I will not let her daughter go unpunished."

Ngoc Thu bit her lip, her eyes brimming with feigned tears as she nuzzled into his chest, her face flushed with an act of modesty. Yet, beneath her lowered lashes, a sharp, cruel glint betrayed her true intent.

Little Sea Snail, having found a final, flickering spark of strength, watched the scene and erupted into a hollow, mocking laugh. "Don Hien! If you dare to touch Boi Boi, you will regret this for the rest of your life! You will regret this until your soul is extinguished!"

Don Hien sneered, his voice like ice shattering against stone. "Is that so? I, too, am curious to see how I shall regret this."

He raised his hand, and golden light spilled from his palm. In an instant, Boi Boi’s only pearl was torn away, still radiating the warmth of her fading life. Boi Boi emitted a mournful, piercing wail, the sound of her shell being torn asunder echoing like a dying gasp. But then, from within her small, broken form, a dragon’s roar erupted—sharp, majestic, and overflowing with ancient authority.

Don Hien stiffened. That was a dragon's cry—a sound that could only come from the true bloodline of the Dragon Clan. Though Boi Boi was a Seven-Colored Clam, she was, in her essence, a divine creature born of dragon blood! Don Hien’s eyes widened, his gaze locked in horror on the pearl in his hand. It still held a layer of iridescent light, shimmering with the brilliance of a divine blessing, yet pulsing with the undeniable, pure aura of the Dragon Clan.

Ngoc Thu, failing to notice his transformation, gave a subtle nod to her attendant. The maid stepped forward and snatched the warm pearl from his hand, bowing deeply. "Congratulations, Your Highness, the Concubine has been saved. I shall go and cleanse this filth at once."

The maid turned to leave, but Don Hien remained motionless, his eyes fixed on Boi Boi’s dying, broken body. Seeing his distraction, Ngoc Thu faked a violent coughing fit, spitting up a dramatic spray of blood. "Brother... what is wrong? Why do I feel... as if you are not yourself?"

Don Hien did not stir, his gaze glued to the child’s final, ragged breaths. Sensing he was slipping into a daze, Ngoc Thu signaled the attendant with a cold look. The maid understood immediately and, without a second’s hesitation, brought her heel down upon Boi Boi—a cruel, crushing blow that shattered what remained of the child’s fragile, fading body.