She fiddled with the conch in her hands, and the expression on her face became blurry for a moment.
It wasn't until then that the conch in her palm stopped repeating the words it had just said. After a brief sound of waves, it sighed again in that haunting way, "Come... come..."
This time, He Qing was prepared and could distinctly feel that inexplicable attraction, though it was not as strong as before. Her mind wavered only for an instant before she regained control. After listening several more times, it seemed even that last bit of allure faded away, as if, from being copied too many times, the sound quality had worn out.
He Qing looked at the exceptionally beautiful light purple conch in her hand, flipped it in her palm, and then casually flung it forward, her arm drawing a neat arc through the air. The conch soared high, and then, following the extended arc, plunged directly into the sea without making the slightest sound amidst the waves.
