The Conch Shell's Call
Ne Zha approached the petrified form of Ao Bing, the small vial of antidote clutched tightly in his hand, the only hope of restoring the dragon prince to life. He uncorked the vial with a flick of his thumb and began to carefully apply its contents to the stone statue.
He started with Ao Bing's feet, pouring a small amount of the liquid onto the calcified surface. To Ne Zha's amazement and relief, the stone began to soften and crumble away like dried mud washed away by spring rains, revealing Ao Bing's actual feet beneath.
Encouraged by this success, Ne Zha worked his way up, methodically applying the antidote to Ao Bing's legs. As he did so, life seemed to flow back into the limbs, the stony exterior giving way to supple flesh and flowing fabric, as if the dragon prince was being reborn from his rocky cocoon.
"It's working!" Ne Zha exclaimed.
He moved to Ao Bing's arms next, carefully rubbing the antidote over the stone surface with a gentleness that few would have thought the impetuous young warrior capable of. Each spot he touched began to transform, the calcification wearing off to reveal Ao Bing's true form underneath.
As Ne Zha worked, Ao Bing's consciousness slowly returned. Though still unable to move or speak, his eyes regained their ability to see and track movement. He watched in silence as the small boy who had been his opponent just moments ago now worked diligently to save him, a reversal of fate as unexpected as it was profound.
Ne Zha, oblivious to Ao Bing's returned awareness, continued his task with a single-minded focus. His tongue stuck out slightly as he made sure to cover every inch of the statue with the life-restoring antidote, not willing to risk even the smallest patch of stone remaining.
"Almost done," Ne Zha murmured, reaching Ao Bing's face. He hesitated for a moment, then carefully applied the last drops of the antidote to Ao Bing's features.
As the stone melted away from Ao Bing's face, their eyes met. Ne Zha stepped back, suddenly unsure of himself in the face of Ao Bing's steady gaze.
"Um... how do you feel?" Ne Zha asked, fidgeting with the now-empty vial, his earlier bravado suddenly evaporating like mist in the morning sun.
Ao Bing took a deep breath, savoring the rush of air into his lungs, the simple act of breathing suddenly seeming like the greatest of luxuries. His voice, when he finally spoke, was a mix of confusion and grudging gratitude.
"I... I am well," Ao Bing said slowly, flexing his fingers experimentally as if marveling at the sensation of movement restored. "You saved me. Why?"
Ne Zha shrugged, a faint blush stealing across his cheeks as he looked away, suddenly finding the barren sheet of ice beneath them immensely interesting. "It was my fault you got turned to stone in the first place," he mumbled, scuffing his foot against the ground. "I couldn't just leave you like that.
As Ao Bing fully regained his mobility, his first concern shifted to the innocent child caught in the conflict. "The child, are they safe?" he asked.
Ne Zha nodded, gesturing towards the shoreline where the young toddler stood, their tiny form dwarfed by the vast expanse of the lake. "Yeah, they're okay now, no thanks to that stupid water demon."
Ao Bing nodded, his shoulders easing as he exhaled a relieved puff of air, the tension draining from his body. "I see. That's good to hear."
As the awkward moment passed, Ao Bing's expression turned curious. "I must say, I'm surprised you were able to subdue the water demon on your own. It's no small feat, even for a cultivator of significant skill."
Ne Zha, still riding the emotional rollercoaster of the day's events, misinterpreted Ao Bing's tone, hearing condescension where there was only genuine admiration. He took a step forward, raising his fists, his
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ne Zha bristled, his voice sharp as a newly forged blade. "You think I can't handle a measly water demon? Come on then, if you want to go another round, I'm ready!"
But to Ne Zha's surprise, Ao Bing didn't assume a fighting stance. Instead, the dragon prince lowered himself to the ground, pressing his forehead to the ice beneath them in a formal kowtow, his long hair pooling around him and onto the chilled ground.
"Young boy," Ao Bing said, his voice filled with sincerity, "you have saved my life. For this, I owe you a debt that cannot be repaid. You have my deepest gratitude."
Ne Zha froze, completely caught off guard by this display of humility from one who had been his equal in battle mere moments ago. His cheeks flushed red, and he began to fidget awkwardly, unsure how to handle such formal thanks.
"Uh... it's... it's no big deal," Ne Zha stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. A goofy, lopsided grin spread across his face, masking his sudden shyness.
Ao Bing raised his head, a small smile spreading across his face as he observed Ne Zha's flustered state. "Nevertheless, your actions were noble. You could have left me as I was, but you chose to help. That speaks volumes about your character."
Ne Zha's blush deepened, staining his cheeks a shade of crimson that rivaled the vibrant red of his vest. He shuffled his feet, looking everywhere but at Ao Bing. "Well, when you put it like that... I guess I am pretty great, huh?" he said with a nervous laugh, trying to cover his embarrassment with confidence. "But- uh, if you ever do want a rematch, I'm ready anytime! Just say the word!"
As the tension dissipated like smoke on the wind, Ne Zha realized they hadn't properly introduced themselves, too caught up in the heat of battle and the aftermath of the demon's defeat. He straightened up, puffing out his chest slightly, trying to regain some of his usual cocky demeanor.
"So, who're you supposed to be anyway?" Ne Zha prompted, looking at Ao Bing expectantly, looking the
Ao Bing shifted slightly, his expression turning more guarded, like shutters being drawn across a window, concealing the thoughts within. "I am... Ao Bing," he said, his voice measured, each word carefully chosen like a move in a game of weiqi.
Ne Zha waited expectantly, but when no further information was forthcoming, he prodded, "And? Are you some kind of warrior too? I mean, you've got to be something special with those horns and all that ice power. That's some high-level cultivation technique right there!"
Ao Bing shifted uncomfortably, conscious of the weight of his secrets - his dragon heritage, his connection to the Spirit Pearl, and the expectations of his father and all dragonkind, bearing down on him like a mountain on his shoulders.
"I... I'm a
Ne Zha's eyes widened with interest, shining with an almost childlike wonder that seemed at odds with his fearsome reputation. "Wow, that sounds amazing! You must have seen all sorts of cool things and fought lots of monsters!"
Ao Bing smiled softly at Ne Zha's enthusiasm, finding it strangely refreshing in contrast to the weight of his own responsibilities and the expectations placed upon him. "I've had my share of adventures, yes. But I must say, this encounter with you has been one of the more... unique experiences of my journey thus far."
Ne Zha beamed at this, taking it as a compliment. "Just wait! One day, everyone will know the name Ne Zha, the greatest demon hunter and warrior in all the land!"
As Ne Zha and Ao Bing were talking, a small figure toddled up to them. It was the young child they had rescued, clutching a shuttlecock in their tiny hands. The child looked up at Ne Zha with wide, innocent eyes.
"Dis yours?" the child asked in broken baby babble, holding out the shuttlecock.
Ne Zha blinked in surprise, then crouched down to the child's level. "You're... you're not scared of me?" he asked, his voice filled with a wonder that mirrored the child's own, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.
The child shook their head vigorously, bouncing on their little feet. "No! You beat up bad guy!" they exclaimed, grinning toothily.
A wide smile broke across Ne Zha's face, his eyes sparkling with a joy that seemed to come from a place deep within him, a place that had been hidden for far too long. He scooped up the child, spinning them around in circles, their laughter ringing out across the frozen lake like the chime of a thousand silver bells.
Ao Bing watched the scene with a serene smile, touched by the pure, unbridled happiness radiating from Ne Zha, a happiness that seemed to chase away the shadows clinging to the boy's spirit, if only for a moment. In that instant, he caught a glimpse of the true Ne Zha, the one beneath the bluster and fury.
After setting the child down gently, Ne Zha took the shuttlecock, turning it over in his hands thoughtfully.
Ao Bing, seeing an opportunity, asked, "Do you want to play?"
Ne Zha's face fell slightly. "No... my mom always tells me kicking the shuttlecock around is dangerous. I'm too powerful, I could hurt someone."
"Nonsense," Ao Bing insisted gently. "Try it. I can handle it."
Hesitantly, as if expecting the world to shatter at any moment, Ne Zha gave the shuttlecock a gentle kick towards Ao Bing. The dragon prince returned it gracefully, not a hair out of place.
Ne Zha's face lit up like the dawn breaking over the horizon, and soon the two were engaged in a lively game, the shuttlecock flying back and forth between them. The child clapped and giggled, a delighted audience to their play.
But as they continued, the shuttlecock struck Ne Zha's chest. Ao Bing looked up, ready to continue their game, but the words died on his lips when he saw Ne Zha's expression.
The boy's eyes were brimming with tears, a tempest of emotions swirling in their depths. Before Ao Bing could utter a single word, Ne Zha turned and walked away, facing a large boulder nearby.
When Ao Bing saw Ne Zha turn away, he approached the young boy with concern. He knelt beside Ne Zha, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Ne Zha? What's wrong?" he asked softly.
Ne Zha, still facing away, sniffled and mumbled, "I... I just got eyes in my sand."
Ao Bing chuckled softly at the boy's attempt to save face. "I think you mean 'sand in your eyes'."
Ne Zha turned to face Ao Bing then, and for a moment, their gazes locked. In Ne Zha's eyes, Ao Bing saw a vulnerability, a raw pain that the boy had been trying so desperately to hide.
Suddenly, as if realizing he'd shown weakness, Ne Zha yanked himself away from Ao Bing's touch. With a cry of frustration, he whirled around and punched the large boulder in front of him, reducing it to dust in an instant.
"This is so embarrassing!" Ne Zha shouted, his voice a mix of anger and shame.
Then, as quickly as his outburst had come, Ne Zha deflated. He plopped down on the ground, folding his arms across his chest, refusing to meet Ao Bing's gaze.
"I... I've never played with anyone before," Ne Zha mumbled stubbornly, his cheeks flushed. "So I just got emotional, alright!?"
Understanding dawned in Ao Bing's eyes, softening his expression. He sat down next to Ne Zha, careful to give the boy some space. "Well," he said, his voice warm and kind, "now you have. And if you'd like, we can play again sometime."
At this, Ne Zha finally looked up at Ao Bing. "Really? You... you'd want to play with me again?"
"Of course," Ao Bing nodded.
Ne Zha turned to face Ao Bing fully then, hastily wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. A small, hesitant smile began to form on his face. "I'd like that."
As their moment of understanding settled between them like a gentle snowfall, Ao Bing reached into his robes and pulled out a beautiful conch shell, its surface smooth and pearlescent, with intricate swirls of blue and white.
"Ne Zha," Ao Bing said, holding out the shell, "I want you to have this."
Ne Zha looked at the shell with curiosity, gently taking it from Ao Bing's hands. "What is it?"
Ao Bing smiled warmly. "It's a special conch shell, imbued with a bit of my own spiritual power. If you ever want to see me again, just blow into it. No matter where I am, no matter how far away, I'll hear it and come to you."
Ne Zha's eyes widened in wonder. "Really? It can do that?"
Ao Bing nodded. "Really. This way, whenever you want to play or... if you ever need a friend, I'll be there."
Ne Zha turned the shell over in his hands, marveling at its beauty and the promise it held. He looked up at Ao Bing in disbelief, as if he couldn't quite believe that someone would make such an offer to him. In the next moment, Ne Zha clutched the shell to his chest, a genuine smile spreading across his face, as warm and bright as the fire-child himself.
But the moment was shattered as Ao Bing's eyes suddenly darted past Ne Zha, his expression turning concerned, a frown marring his perfect features. "Ne Zha, do you know those people?" he asked, nodding towards something behind the boy.
Ne Zha turned to look, his heart sinking as he saw a group of townspeople approaching in the distance, their faces set in grim, angry expressions. When Ne Zha turned back to respond to Ao Bing, he was startled to find that the dragon prince had vanished without a trace, as if he had never been there at all.
Before Ne Zha could process this sudden abandonment, the townspeople were upon him, their voices rising in a cacophony of accusations and anger, crashing over him like a tidal wave of hatred and fear.
"There he is! The demon child!"
"He's the one who burned our homes!"
"He kidnapped little Ming!"
Ne Zha tried to explain, his voice rising desperately above the shouts, his hands held out in a pleading gesture. "I was trying to save-"
But his words fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the roar of the mob. The villagers, fueled by fear and misunderstanding, continued their tirade, their voices growing louder and more vicious with each passing second.
"Liar!" one shouted, his face twisted with rage. "We saw you chasing poor Ming like an animal!"
"You're nothing but trouble!" another yelled, shaking his fist in Ne Zha's face. "A curse upon our village, a blight upon our lives!"
Ne Zha felt his temper rising, a familiar heat building in his chest, but he tried to rein it in, tried to remember Ao Bing's kindness, the joy they had shared in their brief moment of friendship. He didn't want to prove the villagers right, didn't want to give in to the darkness that always seemed to be lurking just beneath the surface of his skin.
"You're not listening," Ne Zha pleaded, his small fists clenched at his sides, his body trembling with the effort of containing his anger. "I saved Ming from the water demon. I'm not—"
"Demon!" one of them spat, the word hitting Ne Zha like a physical blow, cutting through his heart like a knife. "That's what you are! A demon in human form, a monster that needs to be put down!"
Ne Zha flinched at the word, feeling as if he'd been physically struck. His body trembled with the effort of containing his anger. "I am not a demon," he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous.
But the crowd pressed closer, their fear making them bold, their hatred making them cruel. One man, his face twisted with loathing, raised the oar he was holding.
"Be gone, demon child!" he shouted, his voice cracking with the force of his fury, as he swung the oar with all his might, aiming directly for Ne Zha's head.
The wooden oar connected with Ne Zha's skull with a sickening crack, shattering into splinters upon impact, the force of the blow enough to kill an ordinary child. But Ne Zha had barely felt it, the pain drowned out by the surge of rage that exploded within him at that moment, the last fragile thread of his self-control snapping like a twig in a storm.
His eyes blazed with a crimson light, glowing like the embers of a dying fire, his small body radiating an aura of power that made the villagers step back in alarm, their eyes widening with sudden, deserved fear.
And then, in an explosion of rage and pain and uncontrollable power, Ne Zha lashed out, his fists flying, his strength unchecked, his fury given physical form. Villagers were thrown back like rag dolls, their bodies crumpling to the ground, some crying out in agony. Trees were uprooted, the earth cracking and splitting beneath the force of Ne Zha's rage, the very air around him shimmering with the heat of his anger. And yet, despite all this- he stopped just short of killing anyone.
"Ne Zha! Stop this at once!" a familiar voice cut through the chaos. It was Taiyi, Ne Zha's master, accompanied by Li Jing, Ne Zha's father.
But Ne Zha was beyond reason, lost in his pain and anger. It took both Taiyi and Li Jing to subdue him, their combined strength and mystical abilities barely enough to restrain the raging boy.
As they dragged him away, Ne Zha's anger slowly gave way to despair, the realization of what he had done, of the ruin he had wrought, crashing over him like a wave of icy water. Once again, he had only proven what everyone had always believed - that he was dangerous, uncontrollable, a threat to everyone around him. The memory of his brief moment of normalcy with Ao Bing, of the friendship and acceptance he had found, only made the pain of this rejection cut deeper, like salt rubbed into an open wound.
"I'm sorry, my son," Li Jing said sadly as they dragged Ne Zha away from the scene of destruction, his voice heavy with the weight of his own failure. "But this is for your own good, and for the safety of others."
Ne Zha struggled against their grip, tears of frustration and betrayal streaming down his young face. "Let me go!" he screamed, "I didn't do anything wrong! I was trying to help! I was trying to be good!"
But his protests went unheeded. They brought him back to the manor, securing him behind locks and mystical barriers once more.
As the doors closed, leaving Ne Zha alone in his confinement, leaving Ne Zha alone in the suffocating darkness of his solitary confinement, he clutched the conch shell Ao Bing had given him, his small fingers tightening around it until his knuckles turned white. It was the only proof he had that the events of the day hadn't been a dream, the only tangible connection to the first friend he'd ever made.
In the days following the incident, Ne Zha fell into a deep depression. The once energetic and boisterous boy became a shadow of his former self and he clung to that shell like a drowning man clings to a piece of driftwood in a stormy sea. He laid in his room, unmoving, his hair unkempt and tangled.
The servants whispered among themselves, their voices filled with pity and fear in equal measure, as they watched the young master waste away before their very eyes. They spoke of the darkness that seemed to hang over the manor like a shroud, of the sorrow that seeped from every crack and crevice of the once-great house.
Any attempt to bring Ne Zha food was met with violent outbursts. Trays clattered against walls, furniture flew across the room, and servants fled in fear of the boy's uncontrolled strength.
"Leave me alone!" Ne Zha would shout, his voice hoarse and broken, echoing through the empty halls like the howl of a wounded animal. "I don't want anything!"
And through it all, Li Jing and Lady Yin could only watch, their hearts breaking with each passing day, as their son slipped further and further away from them.
"He hasn't eaten in days," Lady Yin whispered, her hand pressed against the door as if she could reach through it to comfort her child.
Li Jing nodded grimly. "And his sixteenth birthday approaches. The day of the heavenly tribunal's judgment..."
The weight of their son's impending doom hung heavy in the air between them. Lady Yin turned to her husband, her eyes listening with tears that threatened to spill out.
"We can't let his last days be like this," she said painfully, "We have to do something to give him some measure of happiness before the end."
Li Jing pressed a finger to his chin in thought. After a moment, he spoke, "What if... what if we throw him a grand birthday celebration? It could serve two purposes - to make Ne Zha's last birthday special and to show the townspeople that he's not the demon they believe him to be."
Lady Yin's eyes lit up at the idea, clutching at this last sliver of hope. "Yes! A lavish party, inviting everyone in town. It could be a chance for Ne Zha to be seen as just a boy, not a threat."
And so, with heavy hearts but determined spirits, Ne Zha's parents began planning the most extravagant birthday celebration Chentangguan had ever seen. They sent out vermilion invitations, ordered the finest delicacies and decorations, and even hired entertainers from distant cities.
As news of Ne Zha's upcoming birthday celebration spread throughout Chentangguan, the once hushed whispers morphed into a cacophony of speculation and judgment.
"Did you hear? That demon child is having a grand birthday party!"
"Hah! As if anyone would dare attend. It's probably just a trap to lure in more victims."
"I heard his parents are forcing everyone to come, to make it look like the boy has friends. How pathetic!"
All the while, Ne Zha remained in his room, unaware of the bustling preparations outside. His parents prayed to the heavens that the promise of a grand celebration might rouse their son from the depths of his despair, even as they silently counted down the days until the tribunal that threatened to take him away forever.
Li Jing and Lady Yin approached Ne Zha's room, exchanging nervous glances before knocking softly.
"Ne Zha? We have something to tell you," Lady Yin called out.
After a moment of suffocating silence, they heard a muffled "Yeah?" from within.
They found Ne Zha curled on his bed, staring blankly at the wall. The sight of their once vibrant child reduced to such a state squeezed their hearts like a vise. But they forced smiles and shared their plans for the grand celebration, infusing their voices with a cheer they did not feel.
Ne Zha scoffed, not even gracing them with a glance. "No one will come. I can believe they'd rather celebrate my execution than my birth."
Li Jing glanced at his wife, a moment of silent communication passing between them before he spoke. "Actually, son, I've spoken with the townspeople about what really happened with the water demon."
This caught Ne Zha's attention. He snapped up from his sitting position, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You did? And... and they believed you?"
"Yes," Li Jing lied, forcing a smile. "They understand now. They want to celebrate your act of heroism."
Ne Zha's expression cycled through shock, hope, and finally, tentative joy. His parents, seeing this transformation, quickly excused themselves to continue the preparations, leaving Ne Zha alone with this newfound hope.
As soon as the door closed, Ne Zha leapt from his bed, his body practically vibrating with excitement. He rushed to his desk, grabbing a scrap of paper and a calligraphy brush. With shaky hands, he began to write:
"Dear Ao Bing,
You are invited to my birthday celebration! Everyone in the village will be there.
Please come.
Your friend, Ne Zha"
Meanwhile, in the vast, shimmering expanse of the underwater palace of the East Sea, Ao Bing stood before his father, the Dragon King Ao Guang. The grand hall echoed with the sound of the eastern currents, and the walls shimmered with pearl inlays.
"Tell me, my son," Ao Guang's voice boomed, resonating through the chamber like the swell of the tides, "what progress have you made in your cultivation?"
Ao Bing bowed respectfully, his hair flowing around him like seaweed. "I've made significant strides, Father. My control over water and ice has improved greatly."
Ao Guang nodded approvingly. Ao Bing hesitated for a moment before adding, "I've also... made a friend."
This revelation caught the attention of Shen Gongbao, Ao Bing's master, who had been standing silently to the side, his presence as dark and ominous as a deep-sea trench. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing with interest.
"A friend, you say?" Shen Gongbao asked, his voice dripping with false casual interest. "Tell us about this... friend of yours, young prince. What manner of mortal has captured your interest so?"
Ao Bing, his eyes bright with the memory of his new friend, began to speak, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed out of place in the cold, watery depths of the palace. "His name is Ne Zha. He's a young boy from a town called Chentangguan. He's incredibly strong and has an indomitable spirit. We fought at first, but then—"
Before Ao Bing could continue, Shen Gongbao's laughter echoed through the hall, cutting him off.
"Oh, what a small world indeed," Shen Gongbao said, his angular face twisting in amusement. "Your new 'friend,' young prince, is none other than the vessel of the Demon Pearl, one of the most dangerous and feared entity in all the realms.""
Ao Bing's eyes widened in shock. "The Demon Pearl? But that's impossible. Ne Zha is just a child, he—"
"A child with immense, uncontrolled power," Shen Gongbao interrupted. "A child born of the Demon Orb, destined to bring chaos and destruction to all who cross his path."
The Dragon King moved forward, his massive form coiled around a central pillar like that of a serpants. "Is this true, Shen Gongbao? This Ne Zha is the demon orb?"
Shen Gongbao nodded, his eyes glinting with a secret satisfaction, like a cat that had caught the canary. "Indeed, Your Majesty. And what's more, the boy's fate is sealed. In mere days, on his sixteenth birthday, he will be destroyed by heavenly lightning, as decreed by Yuanshi Tianzun himself, the supreme ruler of the heavens."
Ao Bing felt as if the ground had disappeared beneath his feet, as if he were sinking into the darkest depths of the abyss. His mind reeled with this new information, unable to reconcile the friend he had made with the dire fate Shen Gongbao described, a fate of unimaginable suffering and destruction.
"But... but he saved a child from a water demon, Master," Ao Bing protested weakly, "He risked his own life to protect the innocent. How can he be evil?"
Shen Gongbao placed a hand on Ao Bing's shoulder, his voice taking on a false tone of sympathy. "My dear pupil, you must understand. The Demon Pearl's destruction is necessary for the balance of the world, for the very survival of our kind. Its power is too great, too corrupting, to be allowed to roam free."
Shen Gongbao's eyes glimmered with a dark purpose as he continued, "There's more, young prince. On the day of the heavenly tribunal, Ne Zha will not go quietly. He will begin a massacre, unleashing his demonic power upon the innocent, leaving a trail of blood and destruction in his wake."
Ao Bing felt his heart sink, but Shen Gongbao wasn't finished. His voice was low and insidious, like the whisper of a serpent in the ear of its victim.
"And you, Ao Bing, are destined to stop him. Ne Zha is your fated rival, the one you must defeat to prove your worth, to claim your rightful place among the gods."
"No," Ao Bing said, shaking his head in disbelief. "There must be another way. Can't Ne Zha be granted redemption? He's not evil, I've seen it myself!"
Before Shen Gongbao could respond, a low rumble filled the hall, like the growl of a thousand underwater volcanoes. The Dragon King, Ao Guang, shifted forward, his massive dragon form uncoiling from his throne, his scales glinting in the light of the palace like stars.
"My son," Ao Guang's voice resonated through the chamber, heavy with the weight of centuries. "It's time you understood the full truth of our people's plight, the burden we have borne for generations untold."
Ao Guang's eyes, ancient and filled with sorrow, fixed upon his son. "Long ago, we dragons were tricked by the heavens, deceived by those who claimed to be our allies. We were told we would be guardians, protectors of the realms, the mighty warriors who would keep the balance between good and evil. Instead, we became jailkeepers for the most vile and twisted spirits, the dregs of the universe, buried here at the bottom of the ocean, forgotten by all but ourselves."
Ao Bing listened, a growing sense of dread filling him as his father continued.
"Do you know what this place really is, Ao Bing? It's not just our home, not just the seat of our power. It's a prison, a cage designed to keep the demons and evil spirits in, to prevent them from ravaging the mortal realm and beyond. But we dragons, we can never leave, or the spirits will be released. We are as much prisoners as those we guard."
Ao Bing's eyes widened with shock and dismay. "Father, I…"
Ao Guang's voice grew urgent, a fierce light burning in his ancient eyes, a desperate hope kindling in their depths. "But there is hope, my son. A chance for our people to be free at last, to reclaim our rightful place in the world. If you defeat Ne Zha, if you prove yourself worthy of godhood, you can elevate our kind, break the chains that bind us to this watery prison."
The weight of his father's words, the fate of his entire race, settled heavily on Ao Bing's shoulders. He thought of Ne Zha, the boy who had shown him friendship and joy. He thought of their game with the shuttlecock, of Ne Zha's tearful confession of loneliness. Then he looked at his father, at the hope shining in the ancient dragon's eyes.
With a heavy heart, Ao Bing made his decision. He dropped to his knees and knelt before his father, his voice steady despite the dark flower blooming in his heart. "I understand, Father. I will do what must be done for our people."
As Ao Bing bowed his head, he missed the triumphant glance exchanged between Shen Gongbao and Ao Guang. The Dragon King's voice softened with pride, a father's love mingling with the weight of his people's hopes and dreams. "Rise, my son. You carry the hopes of all dragon-kind with you, the future of our people resting on your shoulders. Go forth and do what must be done."
Ao Bing stood, his resolve set but his heart conflicted. As he left further into the palace to prepare for his grim task, he couldn't shake the image of Ne Zha's smiling face from his mind.
And as he walked through the shimmering halls of the palace, his footsteps heavy with the weight of fate and destiny, a familiar sound reached his ears, a melody that cut through the turmoil of his thoughts like a beam of light through the darkest depths of the sea. The ethereal call of the conch shell he had given Ne Zha echoed through the underwater palace, a haunting reminder of the new and fragile bond they had forged.
For a moment, Ao Bing hesitated, torn between his newly assigned duty and the pull of friendship. But the sound persisted, and with it, a sense of urgency that Ao Bing couldn't ignore.