[Egg Yolk Jellyfish: Summonable, can glow, can lure enemies, usable in any environment, comes with venom and explosive attack buffs.]
[Egg Yolk Jellyfish can auto-produce and stockpile, up to 9 at a time. Skill cooldown: 20 minutes.]
[System: Congratulations to the player for reaching a collection progress of 12/100. Island Collection Level +1, Character Level +1.]
After the ocean sunfish dealt with the line of egg yolk jellyfish, Jiang Ye was once again faced with another ocean knowledge quiz.
For someone with Jiang Ye’s level of knowledge, these questions were nothing to worry about.
After answering with ease, the system sent her a new notification, signaling that there was yet another little creature added to her island collection storage.
Jiang Ye didn’t even have time to care that both she and the island had just leveled up. She hurriedly summoned an egg yolk jellyfish without another thought.
The inventory slot that had just indicated a stock of one egg yolk jellyfish instantly dropped to zero, with a gray clock shadow overlaying it—a sign that a new egg yolk jellyfish would refresh in twenty minutes.
Once summoned, the egg yolk jellyfish became lively and active.
Only a moment ago, it had seemed like an unavoidable mine, but now, having become Jiang Ye’s ally, it was much cuter and more docile.
The egg yolk jellyfish floated around Jiang Ye, its wobbling, jelly-like body emitting a warm light that gently dispelled the darkness of the deep sea.
It was like a pretty bedside lamp in a girl’s room.
With its gentle glow, it broke through the gloom of the underwater world.
Right now, eager to show off, the egg yolk jellyfish was spinning around nonstop, as if it only lacked some background music—maybe a track like “Dancing Diva.”
Its lights swayed along with it, and at first glance, it really felt like a nightclub’s flashing lights.
“This little jellyfish is really something.” Jiang Ye, seeing it couldn’t stop spinning, offered a half-serious compliment to keep her eyes from getting dazzled.
The egg yolk jellyfish seemed almost sentient, as if it understood her. It wiggled its slender, egg-white-translucent tentacles in the water with pride.
For a split second, Jiang Ye almost thought she was hallucinating.
She nearly saw the lazy, mischievous silhouette of Gudetama in that little jellyfish.
She rubbed her eyes, certain it was just her imagination.
With the jellyfish lighting the way, the journey ahead became much easier.
Jiang Ye and several sea creatures passed through the winding, shadowy cave entrance. After a while, she finally saw a glimmer at the end of the tunnel.
It looked like glowing clouds, soft and dazzling, at the cave’s mouth—a fleeting glimpse of a fairy’s silhouette drifting past.
The ocean sunfish was stunned, like a commoner enchanted by a fairy’s beauty, abandoning all caution to rush forward.
Jiang Ye quickly grabbed it back, cautiously heading for the exit.
The captivating colors hovered like mist near the mouth of the cave.
The more beautiful something is, the more dangerous it tends to be.
Seeing such a scene at this moment, Jiang Ye did not consider it a good omen.
The sunfish had a big head and tiny brain, with poor instincts for danger. But the monk seal, egg yolk jellyfish, and even the sea snake were all seasoned and crafty. All of them shrank behind Jiang Ye at once.
The monk seal nudged her clothes with its head, as if trying to tell her not to go further.
Animal instincts warned them that danger was ahead.
But Jiang Ye had to push forward.
She’d promised Chubby Bird she would find that egg and finish her quest—both were right ahead.
The quest arrow pointed her to danger, relentlessly leading Jiang Ye closer.
She patted the monk seal’s head to comfort it.
The monk seal, unwilling, tried to block her with its body, but Jiang Ye took a deep breath, darted past, gripped her boning knife tightly, and plunged through the watery curtain at the exit.
As soon as she poked her body through, a force pulled her out. Instead of the anticipated fear of falling, a warm blanket enveloped her.
Jiang Ye fell into a warmth that could melt her entirely.
When she opened her eyes again, her boning knife was nowhere to be seen, and the sea was gone. She was back home.
She was in her home on Blue Star.
The small tile-roofed house on the island was decorated in warm colors, green plants everywhere, the flower shelf bursting with blooms that mirrored the owner’s care and love for her home.
A treasured family photo elegantly framed, sat on the living room cabinet.
In the photo, Jiang Ye and her parents smiled in happiness.
Her sister Jiang Li hadn’t been born when the photo was taken.
After Jiang Li was born and grew a little, they’d taken a new family photo on a boat—this too was printed, framed, and placed nearby.
Jiang Ye stared at this photo and for a moment nearly forgot how long it had been since she’d last seen it.
Since her parents’ accident, Jiang Ye had put away every photo from the past.
Especially anything related to the sea and boats.
Frozen in place, terrifying scenes from her parents’ accident flickered through her mind yet again.
“Xiao Ye? What are you standing there for? Come eat!”
Hearing that voice, Jiang Ye couldn’t believe it, stiffly turning toward the sound. Out in the yard, by the barbecue setup—
Her father stood flipping the grill, and her mother, frying squid on the hotplate, called to her as she looked up: “You silly kid, why are you just standing there?”
The voice was as gentle as sunshine, but so full of warmth Jiang Ye could hardly bear it.
Her mother's smile was so bright, Jiang Ye didn’t dare look long for fear it would scorch her eyes.
She lowered her gaze.
“Jie, come on!”
Her little sister Jiang Li sat in a chair, small hands clutching the table, eyes brimming with longing as she gazed at Jiang Ye.
Jiang Ye, as if bewitched, pushed the door open and walked out to the courtyard.
As the door swung open, the last brush of sunset flooded her eyes.
Brilliant reds, thousands of shades of red, as vivid as fresh blood.
Jiang Ye turned to look at her family.
Her parents, who just a moment ago were smiling and talking with her, were suddenly covered in blood, bodies marred by gaping wounds, swelling grotesquely larger and larger, ballooning upwards like hydrogen-filled balloons, swelling and floating up.
They looked, for all the world, like the way she’d found them when they were recovered from the sea.
Jiang Ye was filled with constant fear, terrified that their bodies would swell to bursting, “bang” and explode at any moment.
Suddenly, she felt a tug on her clothing.
Someone—or something—was pulling her.
“A-Li, don't be afraid.” Jiang Ye reassured instantly, reaching back to touch her sister’s hand. But the feeling in her palm wasn’t the expected softness.
It was hard. Ice-cold.
Jiang Ye whipped her head around.
Jiang Li’s hand holding hers had become a skeleton of bone.
Looking closer, Jiang Li’s once chubby, adorable face was now peeling away in layers, flesh sloughing off.
Jiang Ye staggered back, bumping into the grill.
The fire leapt from the rack, flames licking at her body.
But Jiang Ye didn’t feel pain.
Her parents floated higher, balloon-like and grotesque, Jiang Li now terrifying and skeletal before her.
“Jie, A-Li is scared.”
Jiang Li reached out to her, eyeballs falling from their sockets and rolling along the ground.
On instinct, Jiang Ye knelt down, arms open, hugging her close.
“A-Li, don’t be afraid. No matter what happens, Jie will protect you.”
Jiang Li placed her hand on Jiang Ye’s back, her voice gentle in her ear.
“Jie, it’s all your fault you didn’t protect me. You can come to hell with A-Li.”
Jiang Ye gave a wry smile, gripping Jiang Li’s now razor-sharp bony hand, the skeleton slicing open her palm as blood welled up.
“I don’t know who you are,” Jiang Ye said gently, “but my A-Li would never blame me.”
Tears spilled uncontrollably from the corners of her eyes.
Shimmering, their shapes visible even underwater.
Her tears drifted, just like her troubled heart.
Her A-Li.
Her A-Li, the one who, even when lying in a hospital bed while Jiang Ye endlessly blamed herself, would never utter a single word of resentment—only reach out and gently pat her on the head. She was just a little girl, yet always spoke in such a mature tone to comfort her grown-up sister.
“Jie, it’s okay. A-Li just can’t walk, but I still have you. You’re A-Li’s legs. You’re A-Li’s eyes.”
Her A-Li.
Her A-Li would rather suffer alone in hell than drag her sister down as well.
The smile on Jiang Ye’s lips grew increasingly bitter, her gaze ever colder. She wrenched apart the arms hugging her, the bones snapping with a crisp crack, and in that instant she heard a piercing wail of pain.
The sunset that had filled the sky with dazzling color disappeared completely.
The thing that had been like a blanket around her vanished too.
She was back from that illusion, surrounded by anxious sea creatures—the monk seal nudging her hand, the ocean sunfish flapping its tail at her face.
Slap, slap, slap.
This dumb fish seemed intent on waking her up this way.
Expressionless, Jiang Ye shoved the fish’s rear away, rubbed the monk seal, and looked ahead.
Before her was a gorgeous blanket, its colors brilliant, like the most beautiful couture dress on a fashion runway.
But it had been the source of that tormented, pained cry.
Perched on this soft, dazzling, and eerie blanket was a strange, oval head, like a pen cap, with two enormous eyes on top.
A deep-sea blanket octopus.
One of its tentacles was severed and dangled, limp in the water, but it was already starting to regrow.
There was no doubt Jiang Ye had just survived an attack from the blanket octopus.
When this creature hunts, it spreads its muscle membranes out like a blanket to scare, confuse, and envelop its prey.
Other than their beauty, what Jiang Ye remembered most about blanket octopuses was their method of reproduction.
Female blanket octopuses typically grow up to two meters, while males are only a few centimeters. During mating, the male focuses all its sperm into one tentacle, then breaks it off.
The female only needs that one tentacle for reproduction.
The male’s fate is to drift in the water and die.
In the world of blanket octopuses, females utterly rule. The males spend their lives searching for a mate; their entire existence is for the purpose of providing sperm.
The females roam the sea, free and beautiful, the most splendid spectacle in the ocean.
On Blue Star, few humans have seen their true beauty in person.
Not because they’re rare—the truth is, female blanket octopuses cast wide nets and could be called “kings of the sea,” mating with many males and laying vast numbers of eggs.
They’re rarely seen because they’re so unpredictable and free, never settling down for a mate or their eggs. Their whole lives are spent searching for their own patch of sea.
Jiang Ye quite liked these creatures.
As long as—she wasn’t their prey.
Right now, the blanket octopus, seeing Jiang Ye return to consciousness, was slowly mending its tentacle, swaying like an umbrella, the bright membrane opening and closing as it circled her, searching for the perfect chance to strike.
Jiang Ye was taut with tension.
She truly didn’t want to fight such a beautiful creature, but if she didn’t, there was no way forward—beyond the octopus lay the field of Death Coral.
The blanket octopus seemed to be the guardian of this place.
While Jiang Ye pondered, an adorable egg yolk jellyfish swam up to the octopus.
Its wiggly movements made it look just like a soft-boiled egg jiggling in a pot—its conduct couldn’t have been more provocative in the octopus’s eyes.
“Little Egg Yolk, come back!” Jiang Ye called softly.
She doubted the jellyfish’s antics would help and didn’t want to see it get snatched up and eaten.
She hadn’t expected the octopus to actually become engrossed with the egg yolk jellyfish, those enormous, creepy eyes glued to it.
The egg yolk jellyfish darted away.
The blanket octopus danced elegantly after it.
It was just like a red laser pointer taunting a cat—the jellyfish the dot, the octopus the clever feline.
Charmed by the “laser,” the cat forgot all else, including its prey.
Jiang Ye used the chance to dart forward into the coral thicket, and among the purple, lifeless corals found an egg set atop a coral throne.
The moment Jiang Ye saw it, she understood why the blanket octopus had been so captivated by the egg yolk jellyfish.
Did the octopus consider the jellyfish a fellow guardian?
She couldn’t worry about that now. She reached out to pick up the egg.
The instant her fingers touched the smooth shell, she felt the surrounding water suddenly grow still.
The current that had been moving moments before froze.
Everything in the sea paused.
The blanket that just drifted freely was pinned in place.
The jellyfish hovered mid-tentacle.
The ocean sunfish wore a dopey look as it sparred with the monk seal.
The monk seal’s mouth was open wide, sharp teeth bared in a snapshot of attempted bite.
All these signs made it clear that everything around Jiang Ye had come to a stop—except her.
Time had frozen.
“Mm...”
In that suspended moment, there came a soft, low moan.
Before her vision, where there had been nothing, a figure suddenly materialized.
Smooth black hair like silk. Its owner’s face was perfect—any more would be gaudy, any less, plain.
He was still, eyes closed like a sleeping doll, every feature meticulously carved. In the words of Jiang Ye’s old life, this must be Nuwa’s masterpiece.
The moan seemed to come from him.
With that delicate and helpless sound, the man’s long silver snake tail slapped gently against the water.
Jiang Ye was entranced.
“This game’s art design is great,” she couldn’t help but sigh, appreciation for the virtual man in her tone. “Even the models look amazing.”
She reached out and tapped the eggshell again.
“Mm...”
This time, the man let out another little groan.
His eyes stayed closed, but his beautiful brows furrowed a little, a hint of discomfort on his face.
Jiang Ye, amused, started to tap on the shell in the rhythm of 1155665.
Just as she expected, the man let out a sequence of hums and ahs in the melody of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”
“Fantastic,” Jiang Ye said, still impressed. “The voice acting is on point, too.”
With this skill, why bother with open-world MMOs? They could make 18+ otome games and make a fortune.
Jiang Ye’s thoughts shifted as she prepared to tap the shell again, to “finish” her rendition of “Little Star.” Just then, the man she’d been treating like an instrument slowly opened his eyes. In those silver pupils was a distant chill belonging only to gods.