Chapter 27: The Scale-Stripped Mermaid (7)

Bai Qian was utterly speechless.

She really wanted to tell the overconfident girl before her that she had absolutely zero interest in becoming her consort.

But this whole affectionate charade was her own doing—she had started it and kept it going, drawing the other lead so deeply into the act that calling it off now would be impossible, no matter how she sliced it.

Still, she couldn’t stomach watching this princess treat her with such arrogance. So she played along. “If I’m obedient, my beloved Princess, when will you let me become your consort?”

Yu Shaoling’s expression flickered through several changes in an instant before settling back into its initial mask of arrogant disdain. “Greedy little captive, let me remind you one more time—you’ll never dream of becoming the human consort of the future Mermaid King!”

Her denial was clean and absolute, but she had forgotten that her very first rejection of this human captive had been “A consort can’t be human.”

Now, though, she had already elevated humans to the status of a potential option.

Bai Qian put on a show, sniffling dramatically to let her feigned dejection pour out. “I get it. I won’t delude myself anymore.”

The girl’s brows didn’t relax at the woman’s sensible response. If anything, they furrowed even deeper.

Seeing her on the verge of fleeing in heartbroken despair, Yu Shaoling spoke without thinking, a trace of unconscious annoyance in her voice. “Little captive, I told you this from the start. You’re not going to be as fragile as other humans, are you?”

Bai Qian turned her back, her calm composure hiding every trace of her earlier disappointment. “Of course not. I’ll just go grab a glass of water, then.”

“Tch.” Yu Shaoling slid out of bed and yanked over her sulking little captive. With a mix of impatience and helplessness, she planted a kiss on her lips. “You humans are so indirect. Fine, I was just teasing you. You’re doing a decent job serving me for now, so I won’t go looking for a consort anytime soon. Happy? What a naughty captive.”

“…”

“What are you standing there for? Come on, I’ll go with you to get that water. No idea who you picked it up from, but you’re turning into such a clingy one.”

Bai Qian had no time to puzzle over what wild notions this stubborn girl’s brain was cooking up now. She hurriedly blocked her path, speaking with utter sincerity. “Aren’t we reading stories? I’ll find one for you. I can get my own water.”

Yu Shaoling’s face darkened. “Little captive, you’re getting too bold again? A kiss isn’t enough—you have to push me until I promise to make you consort? You know that’s impossible.”

Bai Qian: “…”

Pushed to the brink by the girl’s antics, the woman acted on desperation. She grabbed Yu Shaoling’s chin, rose on tiptoe, and kissed her hard.

“That’s enough to satisfy me. Really. So stay here and read the story I find for you. When I get back from grabbing water, you can tell me all about it, okay?”

It was the first time the little captive had kissed her so boldly.

Afterward, she shyly looked away, too embarrassed to meet her eyes.

Yu Shaoling couldn’t quite put words to the tangle of emotions stirring inside her.

In the status-obsessed Mermaid Kingdom, such brazen behavior from a little captive was utterly forbidden.

By the kingdom’s laws, she could have subjected this rude little captive to the Sea Whip Punishment.

But she had no desire to.

She was living in the human world now and ought to follow human laws. From what she knew, nothing in human statutes prohibited this.

Punishment wasn’t even on her mind. Instead, an unbidden image forced its way in.

—If she told the little captive she would make her consort, what expression would light up her face?

Yu Shaoling drew a blank, and the realization of her own thoughts made her face stiffen. She hurried back to the bed, a flicker of unnoticed guilt in her haste that Bai Qian didn’t catch.

“Aren’t you supposed to find me a story? Get to it.”

Bai Qian hadn’t expected something as everyday as a kiss to actually work on her.

Her surprise lasted only a moment. She quickly took the phone, opened a novel site, and searched for Rebirth: Away from the Scum Prince. She tapped into the first chapter and handed it back.

The book ran to four hundred thousand words, with seventy thousand free. If the girl took to it, she’d still be reading the free chapters by the time Bai Qian finished preparing the medicine and returned.

Bai Qian headed to the kitchen and juiced an orange. Following An Yan’s instructions, she poured a third of the bottle’s contents—the sea blue liquid—into the juice.

Just as the woman had said, it blended seamlessly into the orange juice, leaving no trace that anything had been added.

If Yu Shaoling hadn’t lost her memory, one proactive move from Bai Qian would have produced results.

But the stubborn girl had amnesia three times over. To regrow her fish tail, three trials were required. Only after the third one could she confirm whether she truly was the one that mermaid held dear.

Bai Qian prepared some drinks and carried the glass back into the room.

She had just reached Yu Shaoling’s side when the other woman looked up.

“How do I top up? It won’t let me read the rest.”

Bai Qian blinked in surprise. “It’s only been a few minutes. You finished all twenty-odd chapters already?”

The mermaid princess bristled at the skepticism. “Are you doubting me?”

“I’m in awe of you,” Bai Qian said with utter sincerity.

Yu Shaoling grudgingly accepted the half-hearted praise and took the orange juice the little captive had specially prepared for her. “The story’s pretty good, though. How do I tip the author? Good work deserves some encouragement.”

Bai Qian topped up two hundred points in the account, showed her how to purchase the paywalled chapters, and on impulse tossed a mine to the author as well. “There, that’s a tip.”

“Only worth a hundred points? Mermaids aren’t as stingy as you humans. If we’re giving, we go for the top tier—the Deep Water Torpedo, right? What’s the max we can send?”

Bai Qian snatched her hand just as she was about to hit purchase. “I don’t have money! What you’re spending is mine!”

“Tsk. I’m your master. Spending it on me is your honor.”

“…” Thanks, but I can live without that honor.

Seeing the pained look on her face, Yu Shaoling didn’t press for more top-ups. She downed the orange juice in a few quick gulps and shoved the glass back into Bai Qian’s hands. “Fine. Once I have my own money, I’ll tip her properly. Happy now? Hurry up and put that cup away, then come back and watch with me.”

Bai Qian hadn’t even made it out of the room when the unmistakable crash of a phone hitting the floor echoed from behind her.

The girl’s voice seethed with murderous intent, but the drug’s influence softened it to a kittenish mewl. “You scheming little captive—what vicious poison have you slipped me this time!”

Bai Qian turned to find Yu Shaoling glaring at her with pure fury.

Under the drug’s effects, the girl’s fair skin looked like it’d been haphazardly dusted with powder, flushed an exaggerated pink that crept all the way up to her forehead.

Bai Qian set the empty glass casually on a nearby table and approached the mermaid now firmly in her grasp.

“You treacherous captive! What are you trying to do!”

By the time the interrogation peaked, Bai Qian had already settled onto the bed.

She reached out and brushed the girl’s sweaty, feverish forehead, her voice low and gentle. “Princess, this naughty captive is just helping you reclaim your lost fish tail.”

The mermaid’s ethereal, enchanting nocturne drifted down to the seabed.

Pink bubbles began gurgling up from the sea’s surface.

As if the creatures of the deep were echoing in harmony.

Or perhaps simply celebrating.

Their princess had at last found her beloved consort.

Bai Qian knew the fish tail wouldn’t sprout back right away, but she’d forgotten to mention it to Yu Shaoling.

The princess, who had half-reluctantly yielded to her in hopes of reclaiming the mermaid’s sacred symbol, woke with one burning thought: to admire her newly regrown tail.

But not a single glimmering scale met her eyes. Staring back at her were those same infuriatingly beautiful legs.

Bai Qian carried a steaming plate of dumplings upstairs. From a distance, she heard the master bedroom erupting in crashes, like the place had been ransacked.

She pushed open the door and froze at the sight of the disaster zone, thick with dust.

Yu Shaoling sat amid the bed frame her telekinesis had splintered into pieces, her gloomy expression untouched by the surrounding wreckage. If anything, the chaos lent her the tragic allure of a princess from a fallen realm.

She looked up, her gaze icy yet laced with a heartbreaking pain. “You lied to me. I hate being deceived more than anything.”

The words cut like invisible blades, piercing straight to Bai Qian’s heart.

Bai Qian knew she had to come up with a solution fast. Yu Shaoling had already raised her hand toward her.

The telekinesis unleashed during Mermaid Tail Severance Rebirth was already lethal.

Bai Qian couldn’t risk gambling on the depth of Yu Shaoling’s feelings. Lose that bet, and who knew what would come next.

A red bean–sized ring of light gathered in the girl’s palm. Consumed by the agony of betrayal, her reason evaporated, leaving only a single commanding voice in her mind.

Kill her!

Kill the one who betrayed you!

The light ring solidified. Yu Shaoling lifted her palm, ready to hurl the human-slaying telekinesis at Bai Qian.

“I can’t hold back anymore!”

Bai Qian’s voice cracked from crying as she bellowed the words.

Tears splashed to the floor in a spray of droplets.

She stared at Yu Shaoling with obsessive, unrepentant fervor. “If you don’t love me anyway, then I’d rather you hate me!”

Yu Shaoling’s pupils suddenly contracted, her palms trembling as the circle of light hurtled uncontrollably straight toward the woman.

Amid the blinding radiance, the woman’s panicked and terrified expression became a nightmare that haunted Yu Shaoling for the rest of her life—a scene that would make her heart ache and convulse every time she recalled it.

Without a second thought, the young girl rushed toward Bai Qian, desperate to shield her from the blow.

She was just a fraction too late to catch up to that beam of light.

In the end, with bloodshot eyes and tears streaming down her face in agony and frustration, she could only watch helplessly as the light engulfed Bai Qian.

Plop.

The bloody pink pearl hit the ground, mingling with the pool of the woman’s tears.

The mermaid’s ethereal, mournful scream shattered the last intact windowpane in the room.

“Don’t—”