Hu Hu Bu Wu. Ye Cha Long Mie -

It was a riddle. A lock. The dragon was not dead—he was trapped inside the phrase itself. To free Mei, Lin Wei had to break the curse. Not by fighting, but by dancing.

He stumbled forward, clutching the obsidian. The trees began to warp. Their trunks twisted into spiral staircases. Their roots slithered like serpents. And there, in a clearing where the moon should have been, he found Mei. She stood perfectly still, her eyes open but white as eggshells, facing a circle of seven stone steles. hu hu bu wu. ye cha long mie

The tea house dissolved into morning mist. Lin Wei found himself kneeling in a patch of wild tea plants, holding his sister’s hand. The obsidian shard had turned to warm ash. It was a riddle