SES Chapter 57 V1

Chapter 57

The first tableau: someone was crouched by the river, seemingly kneeling to drink. Behind them, another figure crept up stealthily, clearly preparing to push them in.

The second tableau: the person who had been drinking was now being held underwater by the second figure. Their hands were raised, struggling desperately. Off in the distance, a third figure was running toward them, rushing in, perhaps in response to a cry for help.

That third person was none other than Yan Jiuxiao. Earlier, they’d thought his twisted pose on the seabed was from lying awkwardly, but now it was clear—he had been frozen mid-sprint. Even in his diving suit and helmet, which looked oddly comical, the horror of it erased any inclination to laugh.

In an attempt to lighten the mood—or maybe because he noticed something—Luo Ren said, “What a ridiculously clumsy clam.”

Mu Dai asked, “What is it?”

Luo Ren pointed at the second tableau. “Look—the scene’s layout moves from the bottom right to the upper left, but it’s incomplete. It’s only just reached Yan Jiuxiao.”

“But he was tied down there days ago. What does that tell us?”

Yiwansan hesitated. “That… the clam works slowly?”

Does it work slowly? Mu Dai almost laughed, but one glance at Yan Hongsha’s tear-reddened eyes made her swallow it down. No matter what, that was still her uncle lying down there.

Luo Ren said, “It tells us this thing doesn’t follow any logic. At the end of the day, it’s just a low-level creature—not the mastermind we’ve imagined it to be.”

“If we calculate from when Yiwansan’s father died, this old clam has been down here at least ten years. Ten years! Even a blunt iron rod could be ground into a needle in that time. Whatever it’s trying to depict, even if it’s ten tableaus, it should’ve finished them all. Why is it only halfway through the second one now?”

Cao Yanhua thought for a while, then suddenly had a realization. “Maybe… because it needs people? Maybe the core of the scene is always a person. It can’t continue without one.”

Mu Dai understood.

It was like a painter working on a piece who lacked a specific material. They’d leave that section blank and finish the rest first, then return once the missing piece was available.

But this clam wasn’t like that. It was rigid, mechanically stacking the scenes in order. When it reached a part that required a missing character, it simply stopped.

There was no one to fill the role, so naturally, the work halted.

Yan Hongsha asked slowly, “So… it tied up my uncle and kept him down here just to store him? To save him for later?”

Yiwansan said, “In theory, that checks out. When a person dies, the body can float up. So the clam likely anchored him to the bottom, just in case. Look here—”

He pointed to Yan Jiuxiao’s ankle, where a horned cow skull had been turned upside down and anchored with stacked stones.

“It’s like a primitive clamp. The horn tip wedges into the ankle and embeds into the seabed, like a tack pinning something down. The body isn’t just lying on the sea floor—it’s partially submerged. Easier to hide. If pearl divers showed up in numbers, it could quickly shift some sand over him.”

Yiwansan paused, then his voice turned heavy. “That might explain why my dad, my mom, and the old clan chief’s bodies were recovered. It was right after the incident, and people dove in en masse to rescue them—maybe the clam didn’t have time to hide them. Or maybe it didn’t even want to. If enough people were stirring up the seabed, its secret would’ve been exposed.”

But later, things got easier. The villagers of Wuzhu had relocated, and anyone entering the sea did so alone.

Before Yan Jiuxiao, at least four people had died. Some were skeletons, others were bundles of bones wrapped in tattered, seawater-rotted clothes—too old to date accurately. Who knew if they died before Yiwansan’s father or after the village was abandoned?

Yiwansan stared at the corpses. “Maybe… one of them also went to Hangu Pass, took one of the cursed slips, and then drowned here.”

Maybe. But now, no one knew what had truly happened. Bones couldn’t talk.

Clearly, this second cursed bamboo slip had something to do with water.

Compared to the first slip, this one had similarities—but also key differences. The first was about repeated scenes. But the second… seemed to be building toward a single event.

Mu Dai frowned. “Why are both slips so obsessed with recreating past events?”

Luo Ren replied, “Don’t you think… it’s like a sacrifice? A ritual reenactment of an old murder?”

A near-pathological recreation. In the world of the living, and now under the sea. And the others—where were they? What if all seven came together?

Mu Dai shivered involuntarily.

Yan Hongsha asked, “That Phoenix… something lock—what does it even do? Why doesn’t it intervene?”

She’d only learned about the seven cursed slips yesterday from Cao Yanhua and didn’t quite remember the proper names yet.

Luo Ren said, “Probably because it can’t. If it could, the slips would’ve been sealed already.”

Mu Dai wasn’t satisfied. “But in the last incident, it at least severed the criminals’ feet. That’s something, right?”

Luo Ren reminded her, “That was after the slips had left their hosts. When anyone was still carrying a slip, did the Phoenix Lock ever stop it?”

Mu Dai fell silent. He was right. The Phoenix Lock only ever showed up after the worst was over, like it was afraid of picking a fight. Useless when danger was near, and only swooping in afterward to serve up delayed justice.

Would it be the same with the clam? Wait until they strip the skin away before burning, stabbing, or frying it? What would even be the point?

Luo Ren tried to offer some comfort. “Look on the bright side—maybe because the slips are scattered, the Lock is powerless right now. But once we recover more, maybe its power will grow too.”

Cao Yanhua asked, “So we’re on the Phoenix Lock’s side, then?”

He was already imagining it. “You think it’ll reward us for all this effort? Maybe each of us will get our little phoenix! We’ll be strutting around town, showing them off—way cooler than a panda!”

Mu Dai rolled her eyes at him.

But then he turned to her and added, “Little sister-master, imagine you and Brother Luo each with a phoenix. And then—what if the two phoenixes fell in love?”

Huh. That did sound cute. Mu Dai couldn’t help but smile.

Clearly, master and apprentice were a perfect match in nonsense. Luo Ren doused them both with cold water:

“Yeah, right. You’ll be lucky if you get a local mutt.”

He said it casually, but Yiwansan froze.