Yueyang found a spare moment to visit the Warriors’ Guild on the sixth floor of the Sky-Reaching Tower and posted a quest.
A bounty of one hundred thousand gold — seeking a Mermaid’s Tear.
Since returning from the Heavenly Realm, he had asked every faction and every race he could think of, and come up empty every time. The Sea Clan under Haiyan’s influence, the Spectral Clan of the Dark Continent, the Eastern Demon Clan, the Golden Elves — he had gone through all of them. Nothing. The Mermaid’s Tear existed only in legend, and no one alive claimed to possess one. Haiyan had gone back specifically to consult Earl Jubi, Earl Yan, and the other Sea Clan elders, and they had turned their entire treasury inside out — not a trace. The Southern Demon Queen, who had more rare treasures than practically anyone, went back and combed through her own private vault. Even Xiayi had returned to her homeland on the Ancient Wind Continent and made inquiries through Queen Zige and others — and still came back with nothing.
The Mermaid’s Tear existed. That much was certain. But whose hands it was in — nobody knew.
The Sky-Reaching Tower’s historical archives contained no shortage of legends about it, and Yueyang had read through many of them.
Despite the name, a Mermaid’s Tear was not actually a tear shed by a mermaid — if it were, he could simply ask the Storm Mermaid to cry one out and call it a day. It was, in fact, an extraordinarily rare pearl. So breathtakingly precious and beautiful that ordinary people who laid eyes on it found themselves completely unable to resist its pull. Legend had it that even mermaids themselves, upon seeing one, would weep with longing. Hence the name.
Wearing a Mermaid’s Tear allowed aquatic creatures to walk on land and breathe freely. Conversely, land-dwelling beings could breathe underwater while wearing one. In combat, warriors or war beasts wearing one received a substantial enhancement to their fighting strength, making it one of the most coveted support-type treasures in existence.
Several thousand years ago, Mermaid’s Tears had been reasonably plentiful — there were estimated to have been no fewer than a hundred scattered throughout the Sky-Reaching Tower, typically worn as personal ornaments by the rulers of the various clans or by female Innate Sovereign cultivators. But the great war six thousand years past had gradually swept them into the tide of history, never to resurface.
Perhaps some still existed somewhere — but even with all of Yueyang’s connections, he couldn’t locate one. He had exhausted every contact he had, leaving him no choice but to head to the sixth floor and post a public bounty.
Never mind the Mermaid’s Tear’s actual worth — he set the reward at a hundred thousand gold for now, hoping that whoever knew something might find it persuasive enough to come forward.
“Son-in-law, you’re looking for a Mermaid’s Tear?”
The Eastern Heavenly King suddenly materialized at his side.
“You have one?” Yueyang’s heart leapt.
“I don’t. That sort of thing is trinket jewelry for women — why would a man like me have anything to do with it!” The Eastern Heavenly King waved the idea away dismissively.
“The problem is I need exactly that kind of women’s trinket to fulfill an obligation,” Yueyang said flatly. Seeing that he had nothing, Yueyang was already looking for an excuse to send him on his way. The last thing he needed right now was to be dragged off for drinks. His mind was split three ways — the Sacred Grimoire, building up his energy reserves before going to see Queen Vivienne, and now this Mermaid’s Tear business. He had no bandwidth left for the Eastern Heavenly King.
“Sulking never solved anything, you know!” The Eastern Heavenly King could see Yueyang wasn’t in the mood, and to his credit, didn’t push the drinking invitation. But just before he left, he leaned in close and dropped his voice to a whisper: “Ask His Majesty. But if you breathe a word that I told you, I will deny everything.”
“Naturally,” Yueyang said, perking up immediately.
He gave the Eastern Heavenly King a solemn hand-over-heart guarantee.
Of course, if Yueyang actually ended up catching flak over this from Emperor Huaxu, he would sell the man out without a second thought — every man for himself. Besides, the Eastern Heavenly King getting scolded for his misdeeds was practically a seasonal event at this point. The man had hide thick enough that he genuinely didn’t care, and his shamelessness was the kind of thing even broke mercenaries nursing cheap wine in taverns across Dragon Rise Continent could have told you about.
The Eastern Heavenly King clapped Yueyang on the shoulder and smoothly pocketed the Spirit Warrior Pill that Yuedian had quietly slipped him.
Tipping off the right person had its rewards. Why not?
“Good son-in-law, I’m off. Next time you need something tracked down, don’t bother posting a quest — too much hassle. Come straight to me. Do you know who I am? I am the legendary secret-digger whose reputation once shook the entire Sky-Reaching Tower!” The Eastern Heavenly King appeared to genuinely believe he was cut out for the private investigator business.
“…” Yueyang was speechless.
The man’s daughter had thankfully inherited none of him whatsoever.
Come to think of it though — if Emperor Huaxu was truly male, why would he possess a Mermaid’s Tear?
And even if he did happen to have one — why keep it so secret? Why had the Eastern Heavenly King and the others never mentioned it?
Yueyang’s curiosity was threatening to kill him. The Dream Jade last time, the Mermaid’s Tear this time — just how many undisclosed treasures were sitting inside the Heaven’s Web imperial vault?
The moment the Eastern Heavenly King was gone, Yueyang went straight to request an audience with Emperor Huaxu.
Same story as last time — His Majesty was feeling slightly unwell and could not receive visitors.
The lady-in-waiting, however, asked carefully after Yueyang’s purpose and assured him she would relay the message to His Majesty, leaving the outcome to the Emperor’s discretion.
This time, though, things played out a little differently. Last time, it was the Drunken Cat Older Sister who had brought him the Dream Jade afterward. This time, he was actually summoned. He was still kept on the other side of a palace door, but at least Yueyang was now within ten meters of the Emperor — closer than he had ever been. The same commanding, authoritative aura of someone long accustomed to absolute power permeated the air, noticeable even to Yueyang with his Sovereign-level will. As a junior before someone who had watched over Fourth Elder Sister and Shuang’er all these years, and who was the elder of Luohua and the other women — Yueyang was on his best behavior, bowing correctly and projecting the image of a perfectly well-mannered young man.
“Who told you?” Emperor Huaxu’s voice carried unmistakable irritation.
Yueyang didn’t hesitate for even a second. “Your Majesty, it was the Eastern Heavenly King.”
“That man must be itching for a beating again — either drinking himself senseless or filling young people’s heads with nonsense!” Emperor Huaxu erupted with a fury that startled even Yueyang. The Eastern Heavenly King, he estimated, was in for a rough few days. Though he had probably known the consequences when he tipped Yueyang off and had almost certainly already made himself scarce — there was no way he’d be coming back until the storm had blown over. Running off to lounge around at Jun Wuyou’s place and freeload meals was, after all, a long-established tradition of his.
“He was very wrong to do so. I also criticized him just now,” Yueyang added, putting in every effort to present himself as a responsible young man.
“Don’t try that with me,” the Emperor said flatly, seeing right through him.
“You’re absolutely right, I was also very wrong!” Yueyang’s skin, it turned out, was not much thinner than the Eastern Heavenly King’s.
“A Mermaid’s Tear isn’t some priceless rarity — giving you one is fine. It’s your underhanded little maneuvers that are truly infuriating.” Despite the words, Emperor Huaxu’s tone carried the reluctance of someone parting with something dear, and Yueyang got a thorough dressing-down before the Emperor would agree to hand it over. Then, after a short pause: “For certain reasons, I may need you to do something in the future.”
“I’m at Your Majesty’s disposal, day or night.” Yueyang thumped his chest in promise.
“Stop smirking — this is a very serious matter. From this point on, you are forbidden from taking that tone in my presence!” The Emperor seemed particularly offended by Yueyang’s expression, and his smile in particular received a pointed reprimand.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Might I ask what it is Your Majesty requires of me?” Yueyang allowed himself one completely private, completely unvoiced thought — that with no company in the imperial inner chambers, perhaps the lonely Emperor needed someone to warm the bed — but naturally, this remained buried so deep it would never see daylight. Acting on it would most likely end with him in pieces. Whatever else, the Emperor’s dignity had to be maintained.
“We’ll discuss it later. You are forbidden from mentioning this to anyone. Nothing has been decided yet, and it is a matter of considerable… difficulty. Never mind — go for now. The Mermaid’s Tear will be sent to you shortly.” Before Yueyang turned to leave, one final warning came through the door: “Forbidden from speculating, and forbidden from letting a third person know about today’s conversation. If Wuxia or any of the others find out, I will have your tongue cut out.”
“Rest assured, Your Majesty — I am renowned for my discretion. I almost never talk in my sleep, and when I do, it never involves anything beyond beautiful women. Today’s secret is absolutely safe with me,” Yueyang declared, apparently ready to crown himself the most tight-lipped person in the entire Sky-Reaching Tower.
“Everyone knows what you are. Get out.”
The Emperor’s final words carried more exasperation than anger.
Yueyang grinned, and left as promised.
He hadn’t seen the Emperor’s face through the door, and hadn’t caught any distinctive scent. But after advancing to the Innate Sovereign realm and having glimpsed the edges of the Sacred Sovereign’s divine state, his perception was an entirely different instrument from what it once was. What he had previously needed his eyes for, he could now sense with clarity that surpassed sight. His Insight, while not yet at its absolute ceiling, was drawing very close to the supreme level of the Divine Eye. The Emperor’s appearance through the palace door was unclear — but Yueyang had caught at least a small glimpse of something.
Being the sharp young man he was, of course, he immediately pretended he had caught nothing at all. Maintaining the Emperor’s dignity was of paramount importance.
Not Night Empress.
That was Yueyang’s conclusion.
He had long suspected they might be the same person — but now he could finally put that theory to rest. Night Empress was Night Empress. The Emperor was the Emperor. Certain similarities existed, yes, but they were two different people entirely.
That evening, the lady-in-waiting delivered a lacquered box as promised. Inside, cradled carefully, lay a Mermaid’s Tear — dazzling with seven-colored light, shimmering and resplendent. Yueyang’s nose twitched faintly; he thought he could detect a trace of delicate fragrance clinging to the treasure even through the air, as though it had spent a long time close to someone. He thanked the lady-in-waiting, and wasted no time making for the Trial Grounds of the Western Heavenly Realm — slipping quietly past the Central Divine Temple’s death squad cordon, entering the Trial Grounds again, and heading to the third stage’s Sand Valley to find Grandma Sha and fulfill her wish.
The moment Grandma Sha put on the Mermaid’s Tear, pulses of light rippled across her body.
She still couldn’t pull herself free of the water — but gathering it around herself to wash her face, her hands, even her feet, was no trouble at all now.
And this was only the beginning. As Grandma Sha grew more practiced at drawing on the Mermaid’s Tear’s energy, her wish of a proper bath would in all likelihood not be far off.
Grandma Sha wept with joy.
She had no reward to offer Yueyang, but she reached back into her memories and offered him what she could — the location of a set of ancient runes: “If no one has disturbed it, it should still be there. Ancient runes don’t fade with time — how long they’ve existed is beyond what any of us can truly comprehend. Oh — I’ve just remembered something else. Long ago, the Fairy Qiluo and the True Lord of Raging Fire fought their final battle in each other. Both fell at Buried Sword Valley, and neither was ever heard from again — they must have destroyed each other. Go look into it sometime. You may find relics left behind by both of them. I’m sorry, little Yueyang — it was all so long ago, and I’m too happy today to think clearly. I can’t recall more right now. Come back another time, and I’ll see what other memories might still be useful to you.”
“Thank you, Grandma Shaloman. Even just the location of ancient runes is more guidance than I could have asked for — I’m truly grateful.” Yueyang meant every word. The value of ancient runes was beyond anything money could measure — and for him, at this stage of his growth, finding more ancient runes to integrate was exactly what he needed most.