Story Reader / Event Story / Summer Anecdotes / Story
A slight chill rides on the sea breeze, carrying that unique salty scent of the ocean.
On a sweltering summer day, it's usually the perfect relief—if not for the unsettling rumor making the rounds.
If you feel a sudden, spine-tingling chill in the sea breeze, you'd better watch your step!
That abrupt cold snap signals the sea siren awakening from her slumber. She's about to surface and ruthlessly devour every creature she finds on the shore.
That's not the point! The point is...
If we don't catch that siren, everyone will be so freaked out by the rumors they won't even step outside—then we'll have to cancel the bonfire party. Boohoohoo...
Right after saying that, Pulao makes a show of wiping away tears that don't actually exist, trying to look as pitiful as possible.
You realize you shouldn't have let your curiosity get the best of you by listening in on Pulao's story. Now that eerie "siren rumor" has already morphed into its fifth version.
You try to remember what the version before last said. Something about a water ghost ripping out people's hearts... or maybe it was their eyes? It's all starting to blur together.
Commandant, please! If you can get to the bottom of this so everyone can breathe easy, that's all we need.
You accept Pulao's request and head to the rumored siren haunt at midnight, when the area is deserted. Locals say the creature follows moonlight ashore before unleashing a killing spree.
The beach is deserted, and the only sound is the wind howling off the sea. Your footsteps may be light, but they still send a chill down your spine.
Suddenly, the breeze turns ice-cold, and you hear unsettling noises coming from the water. The air grows more and more sinister.
You hope this is all in your imagination.
But the moment that thought crosses your mind, the shallows in the distance seem to pick up on your doubt and respond right on cue.
Something stirs beneath the surface, and as you approach, you pick up a faint sound. Listen closely, and you hear a distant unfamiliar tune.
For some reason, the strangest version of all Pulao ever told you suddenly comes to mind.
People say a siren's "hunt" progresses step by step: they start by luring humans in with their bewitching song.
Once their prey is lured to the surface and loses all reason, the sirens strike, biting through the victim's neck. They then drag the broken body below the waves, perform a dark ritual dance, and devour the remains.
That faint melody you heard just now... it really does resemble some kind of ancient ceremonial music.
You instinctively reach into your storage bag, rummaging around. In a predicament like this, you need to be ready with something—anything—to defend yourself.
But the shape you feel is all wrong. The second you bring out the "weapon," your worst fears are confirmed.
No handgun or anything of the sort—just a massive conch shell, gleaming in the moonlight.
While chatting with Pulao, you set your storage pouch aside and it ended up mixed with her belongings. It's likely she accidentally took it when leaving in a rush.
A single conch won't cut it against the siren, so your only option is to get out of there.
You're not sure if the creature senses your departure or if it's simply surfacing by chance, but behind you, a noise suggests something is about to break the water's surface.
The chilling sea breeze blows once more, sending a shiver straight through your bones.
What—
You don't have a second to wonder why the siren behind suddenly speaks; your instincts kick in, and you bolt forward.
But you barely take two steps before a rock hidden under the sand trips you, and you're about to slam face-first into the ground.
[player name]! Watch out!
A hand grabs you just in time, keeping you from hitting the ground. The familiar voice and your instincts help you lower your guard, letting the panic slip away.
You turn around and, instead of some fearsome siren, you see a familiar face brimming with concern.
The place is so unnervingly quiet that every slight rustle or shuffle rings out with crystal clarity.
She might not realize it, but her voice quivers a little when she calls out.
Even though you are only on a soft, shallow shore—where a slip wouldn't lead to serious injury—it doesn't stop the person behind that voice from worrying on pure instinct.
Moonlight spills across the shoreline, bright and clear.
Though the sea and star-filled sky are behind her back, offering no reflection, you suddenly feel every shimmering light converge in those eyes that lock with yours—vibrant, flickering like dancing shadows.
Commandant! Are you okay? Any injuries?
It turns out to be Hanying.
Her voice is full of concern, and the hand resting on you grips just a little too tightly.
After a few tense seconds, Hanying realizes how stiff she is and slowly loosens her grip, her face marked by both embarrassment and urgency.
S-sorry... Things seemed pretty intense just now, and I guess I overreacted... I didn't mean to offend you...
Your words lighten some of the embarrassment and guilt on Hanying's face, though a faint blush still lingers, keeping her looking shy.
You look up at Hanying and realize she's wearing a new outfit—pure and elegant in every way.
Fresh from the ocean, her water-friendly attire still holds a few droplets, and they fall onto the sea's surface with a clear, ethereal echo.
Like a lotus blooming at midnight, quietly unfolding in a tranquil, deserted place.
Commandant, why are you here so late?
Sensing the awkward mood in the air, Hanying speaks up to break the tension.
Is it really that serious—so urgent you have to deal with it at this hour?
You share those terrifying siren rumors with Hanying, but it turns out she's never heard them before.
I see. So people saw me practicing my new dance routine at night, couldn't see me clearly, and mistook me for something else.
I can't believe you actually believe in sirens, Commandant.
A strange melody?
Is it "The water goddess is Fufei, ensnared by marshland's snare"? It's probably the track I play during my dance practice.
Hanying laughs softly and patiently begins her explanation.
Yeah, it's a song adapted from a legendary tale, tied to a goddess known as "Luo" in Kowloong's records.
"Graceful as a startled swan, elegant as a wandering dragon." A poet named Cao Zhi wrote these lines.
Cao Zhi, once a prince, despaired after his demotion. Exiled by the Luo River, he encountered its goddess for one dazzling moment—an impossible bond of mortal and divine. To keep that spark alive, he composed "Ode to Goddess Luo".
Later generations, inspired by the story, created the Dance of Goddess Luo. Unfortunately, it faded away over time, leaving only a few written records.
Commandant, you feel the same way Yoyo did back then. Once she heard the story, she said she hoped to see this legendary dance for herself.
Because the records are so fragmented and abstract, only a fraction of the moves have survived. Most must be reimagined by the dancer, making it nearly impossible to restore the Dance of Goddess Luo to its original form.
It's fine. I'll give you an example—I'm sure you'll catch on quickly, Commandant.
Hanying smiles softly and moves to stand where the moonlight is the brightest.
It's like... one part of the records says, "Each step carries a hint of the divine, leaving behind wistful imagination, looking back in quiet sorrow." But it doesn't really explain what movement it refers to.
There are countless ways to express a sense of longing in dance—like this.
Hanying goes up on her toes and takes two steps forward, raising her arms gracefully. She only turns her cheek halfway, her expression tinged with sorrow.
Or like this.
She lowers her arms and then lifts them again, spinning in place several times. Finally, she drops her gaze before shooting a glance upward.
Although this gives the dancer plenty of creative freedom, it also leads to a multitude of different interpretations of the Dance of Goddess Luo in later eras.
Even now, there isn't one definitive version everyone agrees on.
Hanying smiles and nods. Then, as if remembering something important, a flicker of uncertainty crosses her face.
Commandant, about looking into the siren legend... did Yoyo ask you to do that for the bonfire party?
I see... It looks like time really isn't on my side after all.
Hearing Hanying's soft murmurs, you sense she's weighed down by something. Considering she's still practicing so late into the night...
Yes. I haven't told Yoyo yet—I want to surprise her at the event she's been most looking forward to.
Well... I guess I've got the choreography down, but I still feel like something's missing—like the dance isn't perfect yet.
If it's you, Commandant, I'd be more than happy to do it.
Hanying glides across the shallow water, her dance movements ethereal and radiant—even in this partial routine.
You have witnessed her dance before, yet this time, there's a noticeable change. Her movements seem different, as if something is indeed missing.
It's like listening to a piece of music and not knowing whether it's meant to be sad or joyful, or reading a poem without being sure if the writer intends to praise or protest.
Hanying finishes her dance, and you tell her what's on your mind. She doesn't look surprised at all.
Hanying shakes her head, looking earnest and composed.
No, Commandant. What you're feeling is definitely the key to all this.
I'm always dissatisfied with this choreography because I realize I've lost the single most important part of being a dancer.
It's the motivation and emotion behind the dance.
Even though I go through all the existing records and try every move I believe fits best, I still feel this isn't the ideal Dance of Goddess Luo.
Ode to Goddess Luo invites countless interpretations: some see mutual longing between Cao Zhi and Goddess Luo, others an idealized vision veiling his disappointments. Or it could simply be an ordinary travel dream.
A dancer's emotional motivation shapes every move. Whether dancing for someone dear or a cherished ideal, each purpose uniquely transforms the performance.
Because I cannot fully comprehend Goddess Luo's feelings, I find myself unable to craft a dance that truly embodies her essence.
With the bonfire party just around the corner, I don't have any time left to sit and ponder.
I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid none of this makes a real difference... This isn't something that responds just because I put in more effort.
Emotions are humanity's innate gift, and they're not something mechanoids can ever claim as their own.
I wonder if my mechanoid nature is why I can't truly resonate with Goddess Luo.
Yoyo must be disappointed. I can't show her the dance she's been waiting for, and to make matters worse, I lost the bracelet she gave me during last night's practice. I still haven't found it.
I guess this is what people mean by missing the forest for the trees.
The sea breeze remains unchanged, but as it brushes the reefs, it emits a strange, mournful cry that deepens the loneliness.
A hushed moan drifts from the beach to the sea. After a few steps, it fades away completely, and the end of the path is nowhere to be seen.
I looked everywhere, but I still can't find it. Maybe the current carries it away during my practice underwater.
A new bracelet?
This seems to be the best solution right now, so Hanying quickly accepts the suggestion.
It happens to be low tide now, so the two of you walk along the beach, gathering fresh shells to make the bracelet.
With no answer, you turn. Hanying stands there, brow furrowed, and only comes to her senses upon noticing you have stopped.
Sorry! Were you calling me just now? Is there anything I can help you with?
Hanying feels guilty about how she's behaving. You're genuinely trying to help, but she's so caught up in her own trouble that she ends up neglecting the person who matters most.
Seeing Hanying's unease, you pick up a seashell from the sand and return to her side.
I...
Hanying can't quite explain it, but she finds it hard to hide her true feelings around you. She never wants to burden anyone or make them worry, yet now somehow, she fails to uphold her own principles.
When she is with you, she feels "vulnerable" and can't keep her worries buried like she always does.
I'm just a bit concerned—do you really think this will work?
Even if I offer a bracelet as an apology, it's still a different one. Once something's gone, you can't ever really get it back...
Is it really okay to give Yoyo something like this?
As you speak, both of you gaze at the radiant moon hanging in the night sky. Sometimes, a little imperfection seems to be exactly what fate intends.
Pure white light falls like a soft veil that cleanses the soul with a sacred ritual. Hanying reaches out to touch the moonlight, and her heart settles into a quiet calm.
I'm not sure why, but whenever I'm with you, Commandant, things always seem to turn out for the better.
You shift your gaze away from the moon overhead and lock eyes with Hanying instead.
You finish speaking, place the freshly picked shell in Hanying's hand, and then move on to collect more shells.
Hanying looks at the shell in her palm, gently closing her fingers around it. A faint warmth from human contact still clings to its surface—not exactly hot, but enticing enough to make her crave more of it.
When she hears your words, a sudden, inexplicable surge of delight washes over her. She never imagined that being noticed could feel so uniquely gratifying.
Even now, she isn't sure if this is the best solution, but she feels a newfound sense of security and courage in her heart.
She leaves the bracelet issue as is for now. Later, she plans to properly apologize to Yoyo. So now she does her best to make up for it, but there's still something else weighing on her mind...
Hanying thinks about the unfinished dance.
A buried disappointment surges within her again. What does she dance for, after all?
She cares so deeply that she worries over every gain and loss. Unable to decode the ancient legend's answer, Hanying fears a wrong one would strip away meaning and render her efforts futile.
If she never finds her motivation to dance, then what? Will everyone be disappointed? The silent sea breeze is her only reply—no one else can make that choice for her.
Hanying alone must discover the answer to that question.
