Invitation

White Whale Town had never been so lively.

The seaside square was hung with blue lanterns, and a giant shell arch stood at the street entrance. Vendors sold mermaid hair clips, mermaid soda, glowing plastic scales, and "tide-sound souvenirs" in small glass bottles. Children ran through the crowd wearing fake fish tails, not caring at all if the tails were on backward.

Shanhu wore a wide-brimmed hat, blending into the crowd. She couldn't help but write on her paper: His tail is on backward.

Lu Wenchao glanced at it. "Don't mind."

She wrote again: It'll affect his swimming.

"He doesn't need to swim."

Shanhu's expression turned sympathetic.

Today she wore a light blue dress. Her silver-blue long hair was hidden under her hat and scarf, and the scale marks around her ankles were wrapped with gauze. She couldn't speak and could only hide her small notebook in her sleeve. Xiaoman said this made her look like a mysterious girl, perfect for sneaking into the plot. Lu Wenchao said she'd trip easily like that and told her to walk slowly.

As it turned out, Lu Wenchao was closer to the truth.

Shanhu had already been tripped by three tourists, two balloons, and a barrel in front of a stall. Every time she stumbled, she'd bow her head and apologize to whoever—or whatever—got in her way. Even the barrel.

Their plan was simple: Xiaoman would sneak into the volunteer team from backstage, Jiang Yue would sabotage the lighthouse signal, Lu Wenchao would lure Qin Yan away, and Shanhu would get close to Madame Bai and take the pearl earrings.

Simple, in the way that every step was bound to go wrong.

And sure enough, the first step already went wrong.

Madame Bai hadn't left the pearl earrings backstage, nor had she handed them to a bodyguard. She was wearing them herself, personally hosting the celebration.

She stood at the center of the stage, her pearly long dress shimmering like a beautiful wave under the blue lights. Smiling, she told the legend of "a mermaid falling in love with the world ashore": a little mermaid came to White Whale Town, drawn by human lights, music, and love, and ultimately chose to leave her voice on land, becoming a fairy tale that would never fade.

The tourists applauded.

But Shanhu frowned and wrote on her paper: She's wrong. The mermaid didn't love the shore—she wanted to see the shore.

Lu Wenchao murmured, "Is there a difference?"

Shanhu looked at him, then wrote slowly: Yes. Only after seeing it can you know if you love it.

Lu Wenchao was momentarily speechless.

Xiaoman's voice came through the earpiece, hushed: "The backstage is full of hunters. The volunteer list has been switched. I can't get into the prop room."

From Jiang Yue's end came the sound of wind: "The lighthouse signal is locked out. Bai Lingzhu was prepared."

Lu Wenchao looked toward the stage. "Where's Qin Yan?"

"Second-floor VIP area," Xiaoman said. "Has he spotted you?"

Before Lu Wenchao could answer, Shanhu suddenly grabbed his sleeve.

She pointed at the sky.

Fireworks rose, blue light cascading down. Hidden within each burst of light were thin silver threads, falling from the square's sky to the eaves, lampposts, and the stage edges, and quietly stretching toward the sea. Ordinary tourists saw only the beauty of the fireworks, but Shanhu heard the lingering song stretching taut.

She wrote on her paper: The threads are in pain.

Lu Wenchao's expression changed. "The ritual has been moved up."

Madame Bai raised her wine glass.

"Tonight, White Whale Town will witness a fairy tale with its own eyes."

The crowd cheered. Children waved glowing fish tails, vendors seized the chance to hawk their wares, and tourists raised their phones to record. No one noticed the dark shadow spreading deep beneath the sea, and no one heard the faint weeping inside the blue lanterns.

Shanhu wrote: We need to take the earrings now.

Lu Wenchao held her hand back. "No, too many people."

She wrote again: With so many people, she'll dare to open the door.

Lu Wenchao knew she was right.

Madame Bai dared to start the ritual in plain sight because everyone thought it was just a performance. The bigger the stage, the better it hid the real blade.

Xiaoman suddenly sucked in a breath over the earpiece: "I have an idea. The celebration dance starts in ten minutes. The VIPs and host will all move into the aquarium hall. Madame Bai will be toasting up close there. You can sneak in."

"There's a list at the entrance," Lu Wenchao said.

Xiaoman's words came rapid-fire: "I stole two invitation brooches. Don't ask how—just say it's a beautiful girl's professional skill."

Jiang Yue said coldly, "Save the chatter. Get them over."

Xiaoman squeezed out of the crowd and shoved two blue brooches into their hands. The brooches were shell-shaped, with a faint lingering song scent on the back. The moment Shanhu touched one, her fingertips went cold.

Lu Wenchao pinned the brooch onto her and asked quietly, "Can you handle it?"

Shanhu wrote: I'm not a goldfish.

He looked at the words and remembered what she had written before—"I'm not your goldfish in a bucket." He folded the paper back into her sleeve.

"I know."

The doors to the aquarium hall slowly opened.

Light, music, champagne, and laughter spilled out all at once. Madame Bai stood at the entrance, as if she already knew they would come. She raised her glass toward the crowd, the pearl earrings glowing with a faint blue light by her ear.

Shanhu stepped forward.

Deep in the sea, the black tide opened its first eye.