The old district of Azure Harbor was located in the southeastern corner of the city, right by the coastal cliffs.
This was once the most prosperous area four hundred years ago—when the ancestors of the Chaoyin family led their fleet to discover this sea region, their first mansion was built here. But as the city expanded and the Chaoyin family declined, this area gradually became marginalized, now leaving only some dilapidated old houses and deserted courtyards.
Shen Lang and Yun Zhou walked through the narrow flagstone paths, arriving before an ancient mansion. The mansion's main gate was a typical Eastern style—vermilion panels carved with surging wave patterns, and a faded plaque hanging above the lintel, bearing the three ancient characters for "Chaoyin Mansion." A corner of the plaque was cracked, clearly un-repaired for many years.
The stone lions at the gate had lost their original majesty, heavily weathered and mottled by the sea breeze. But upon closer inspection, one could still discern two dull gemstones embedded in the lions' eyes—these were Tide-Observing Stones, a specialty of the Eastern Continent, rumored to predict tsunamis and storms, but now they had lost their spiritual potency.
"You're back?"
A hoarse voice came from the courtyard.
Shen Lang pushed open the creaking wooden door, seeing a white-haired old man sitting by a stone table in the courtyard, holding a yellowed ancient book.
"Grandpa!" Shen Lang walked over, placing the steamed buns and tea on the table. "The Biluochun was on sale at the market today, so I bought you some."
The old man looked up, revealing a face full of wrinkles but still spirited. His eyes were a rare deep blue, like Shen Lang's, but a deeper calm seemed hidden in their depths—a stillness only found in those who have long dealt with the ocean.
"Biluochun?" The old man smiled. "You little rascal, learning to save money now? With the competition imminent, you should be buying more meat to strengthen yourself!"
"I'm perfectly healthy!" Shen Lang sat opposite his grandfather. "It's you; your cough has worsened these past few days. This tea is good for the lungs; drink more of it!"
The old man—Shen Canghai, the current head of the Chaoyin family, and Shen Lang's only living relative—shook his head, saying no more. His gaze fell upon his grandson's face, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes.
"What rumors did you hear at the market today?"
Shen Lang paused, then forced a wry smile: "What else? Just talk about the competition, about me, about our family's predicament."
"Let them talk!" Shen Canghai waved his hand. "Rumors, the more you care about them, the more they cling to you. You just need to focus on the competition itself!"
"I know!" Shen Lang paused. "But Grandpa, I heard that voice again today."
Shen Canghai's expression instantly turned serious: "What voice?"
"Like before, intermittent, like someone calling me." Shen Lang recalled. "I heard it a bit more clearly today, it seemed to be saying words like 'Dragon Gate,' 'Awaken.'"
The old man remained silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the ancient book in his hands.
It was a handwritten manuscript written in ancient Eastern script, with the four seal script characters "Chaoyin Secret Records" on its cover. This was the hereditary family text of the Chaoyin family, passed down through generations, recording the secrets of Tingtao art and bloodline awakening.
"Shen Lang," Shen Canghai slowly began, his voice carrying an unusual solemnity, "Do you know how our family's ancestor acquired the Tingtao bloodline?"
Shen Lang shook his head. He had known since childhood that his bloodline was special, but his grandfather had never elaborated on the family's origins.
"Come, sit properly, I'll tell you a story."
Shen Canghai closed the ancient book, his gaze fixed on the distant sea. The afternoon sun cast its light upon his aged face, making his deep wrinkles even more pronounced.
"Four hundred years ago, our ancestor, Shen Moli, the first Chaoyin family head, was originally just an ordinary Eastern Continent sailor. He followed a Western exploration fleet out to sea, and during a storm, their ship was wrecked. Everyone perished in the ocean, but he alone survived."
"He drifted for seven days and seven nights, and just as he was about to drown, he encountered a dragon."
"A dragon?" Yun Zhou's eyes widened. "A real dragon?"
"Yes, a true Eastern Sea Divine Dragon!" Shen Canghai nodded. "According to the 'Chaoyin Secret Records,' that dragon resided in an unnamed underwater palace, where it had slept for a millennium. Shen Moli's arrival awakened it, and the dragon, seeing this drowning human, felt compassion."
"It asked Shen Moli: 'Why do you sail the seas?' Shen Moli replied: 'Because at the end of the ocean, there are sights I wish to see.'"
"The dragon was pleased with this answer. It said: 'Since you love the sea, I bestow upon you the ability to understand the ocean's language. But remember, this power is not without cost. One day, one of your descendants will come to the Dragon Gate to fulfill a mission.'"
"Then, the dragon used its own scales to carve an imprint on Shen Moli's heart—that was the Mark of Chaoyin. From that moment on, Shen Moli gained the ability of Tingtao, capable of sensing tides, predicting storms, and communicating with marine life."
"With this ability, he led his fleet to discover this rich sea region, established Azure Harbor, and founded the Chaoyin family."
Shen Lang listened intently. He had never heard this story before, yet it felt strangely familiar, as if etched into the deepest parts of his bloodline memory.
"What was that mission?" he couldn't help but ask.
Shen Canghai's expression turned complex: "The 'Chaoyin Secret Records' do not explicitly state it. It only says that when the bloodline awakens to a certain degree, the Tingtao will receive a summons from the Dragon Gate Strait. At that time, he must go to the Dragon Gate alone to undertake a trial. If successful, the Chaoyin family will regain its former glory; if it fails..."
"What happens if it fails?" Yun Zhou asked nervously.
"They will lose everything!"
Shen Canghai said solemnly, "Including their lives!"
The courtyard fell silent, with only the rustling of leaves as the sea breeze passed through.
Shen Lang's hand instinctively pressed against his chest. He could feel a faint mark there—a birthmark since birth, shaped like a dragon scale, yet also like a wave.
"So..." he slowly began, "you've always prevented me from exploring the Tingtao art too deeply because you were afraid I would be summoned?"
Shen Canghai did not deny it.
"Shen Lang, you are the first child in our family in three hundred years whose bloodline has awakened. I am both proud of you and worried for you. That trial is too dangerous; I don't want you to..."
"But I must go!"
Shen Lang interrupted his grandfather, his gaze firm. "Not just for the family, but for myself! I've been able to hear the sea's voice since I was little, and that feeling is like... I belong there! If I don't seek the answer, I'll regret it my whole life!"
Shen Canghai looked at his grandson, a mix of relief and sadness flickering in his eyes.
"You are as stubborn as your father." He sighed. "Very well, since you've made up your mind, I won't stop you. But..."