Zhao Shuqing heard the commotion from the bathroom the moment she entered. She didn’t even kick off her shoes before rushing over. Seeing the mess and Lin Feng—still in mermaid form—clutching the toilet and heaving again, her heart clenched.
“Lin Feng!”
Zhao Shuqing dropped her things and hurried to her side. By now, Lin Feng had mostly emptied her stomach and could only dry-heave. Zhao Shuqing worried she might bring up bile.
She grabbed some tissues to wipe Lin Feng’s tear-streaked, messy face. The bathrobe was filthy too, so Zhao Shuqing stripped it off and tossed it aside. She carried Lin Feng out of the bathroom.
Zhao Shuqing quickly gathered things from the suitcase and pulled out a clean set of clothes. She said to the pale-faced Lin Feng, “Change your tail back. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Lin Feng’s eyes were red. She tried, then cried to Zhao Shuqing, “I-I can’t change back, Zhao Shuqing.”
Zhao Shuqing boiled a pot of hot water. It was too late; all the pharmacies were closed, so there were no stomach meds for Lin Feng yet. Knowing she hadn’t eaten all day, Zhao Shuqing made her a packet of instant porridge.
“Does your stomach still hurt?” Zhao Shuqing asked.
Lin Feng’s tail draped off the end of the bed. She cradled the porridge bowl, blew on it, shook her head, and said, “Much better.”
Zhao Shuqing watched her sip the porridge slowly, her gaze drifting to the tail.
The enormous, beautiful tail had lost its vibrant sheen; the scales looked dull. Zhao Shuqing reached out to touch it, feeling Lin Feng tremble slightly.
“Zhao Shuqing…”
Zhao Shuqing looked up and explained to Lin Feng, “I just wanted to take a look. Sorry.”
Lin Feng shook her head and lifted her tail toward her. “If you like it, you can touch it more. I don’t mind.”
“No need.” Zhao Shuqing tucked the tail under the covers and instructed, “Finish the porridge. Tomorrow I’ll buy you some stomach medicine.”
Lin Feng wanted to say the medicine wouldn’t work on her anyway—she was dying, so it hardly mattered. But hearing Zhao Shuqing care about her, she thought it over and murmured an “Mm,” agreeing.
Useful or not, the fact that Zhao Shuqing was willing to buy it for her meant she still cared.
As long as Zhao Shuqing still liked her, Lin Feng had a chance to stay by her side.
Though it was late at night, Zhao Shuqing still sat at the foot of the bed, carefully observing Lin Feng’s tail. She even produced a syringe from somewhere and pricked it between the scales to draw a full tube of blood.
Lin Feng glanced blearily at Zhao Shuqing before quickly drifting back to sleep.
The next morning, Zhao Shuqing woke Lin Feng and fed her the medicine. She instructed her firmly that she had to go out for a bit, so Little Fish needed to stay put in the room—no wandering, and no opening the door for anyone who knocked.
Lin Feng nodded. Only after watching Zhao Shuqing leave did she spit out the pill she’d hidden under her tongue.
So bitter.
Lin Feng flicked her tail lightly and tried transforming it into human legs. After three or four dozen attempts, she finally succeeded.
It was all so strange, and Lin Feng didn’t really understand it.
Meanwhile, Zhao Shuqing drove the borrowed car to the suburban laboratory, where Camille was already waiting. Spotting her arrival, Camille greeted her enthusiastically and introduced her to the lab staff.
“This is my mentor’s lab. Don’t let the size fool you—it’s got everything you need,” Camille said, gesturing toward the glass windows lining the corridor. Inside, scientists bustled about busily.
After meeting Camille’s mentor, Zhao Shuqing explained why she’d come.
“I want to run an experiment to develop a test paper that can distinguish mermaids from humans,” Zhao Shuqing told the professor.
Camille’s mentor was a fifty-something Asian woman with long black hair. Fine wrinkles creased the corners of her eyes, and deep lines bracketed her mouth. Combined with her piercing gaze, she came across as quite intimidating.
Serena gave Zhao Shuqing a once-over. Truth be told, she wasn’t optimistic about this young woman.
“Your experiment is pointless,” Serena told her. “You can tell mermaids and humans apart just by their obvious physical differences. There’s no need for a test paper.”
“But what if you can’t tell them apart by appearance?” Zhao Shuqing met her eyes steadily, her expression earnest. “Professor, I know this experiment might seem meaningless at first glance, but please give me a chance. I really need your help right now.”
Camille chimed in from the side. “Teacher, just say yes. Zhao Shuqing is incredibly talented. There must be a good reason for this.”
Serena shot her student a glance. After a long pause, she relented. “You can only use what’s in Lab 6. Don’t touch anything else.”
With that, the stern professor turned and left. Camille winked at Zhao Shuqing and whispered, “Go ahead and use the lab. If you need anything else, I’ll figure out a way to get it for you.”
Zhao Shuqing looked at her gratefully. “Thank you.”
“No need,” Camille laughed. “But I’m curious—why go to such great lengths to do this experiment abroad? Wouldn’t it be easier back home? You’ve been on TV, haven’t you? Hasn’t the embassy reached out?”
The F Country Embassy staff had indeed called Zhao Shuqing the day before. It was all about her media buzz abroad turning her into a hot topic. But as a Country Z citizen, she couldn’t just keep a high profile in F Country.
Zhao Shuqing brushed it off. She merely remarked, “If I can’t go back home, maybe I can use this chance to apply for permanent residency here in F Country.”
That scared the embassy folks half to death. They hurriedly told her not to even think like that—Country Z’s talents didn’t defect abroad.
Zhao Shuqing couldn’t be bothered. She hung up decisively.
“I’ve talked to them, but it was useless,” Zhao Shuqing said. She gathered her long hair into a high ponytail with a hair tie and turned to Camille. “That was then. Now, I want them begging me to come back.”
No matter who was scheming against her back home, Zhao Shuqing wasn’t afraid.
After slipping into a lab coat, she added to Camille, “Oh, and find me a couple of assistants while you’re at it. I’ll cover their stipends myself.”
Camille arched a brow and snapped her fingers. “No problem.”
Unlike Zhao Shuqing, who was immersed in her lab work, Lin Feng’s only entertainment was transforming her tail back and forth in the hotel room.
She’d discovered that if luck was on her side, it only took two or three tries to sprout her tail. If not, it could take thirty or forty attempts—and bad luck seemed to strike more often.
The more she transformed, the more discomfort built in her lower abdomen. After each change, Lin Feng had to rest for a good while before trying again.
These past few days, Zhao Shuqing had been heading out early and returning late—sometimes not coming back until the whole day had passed. She’d leave food and water in the room, or call room service for a meal.
Lin Feng’s appetite had improved a lot. She wasn’t vomiting as much anymore and could polish off a full person’s portion, even downing the decorative broccoli.
Lin Feng figured this must be her last rally before the end.
That only made her look forward more desperately to Zhao Shuqing’s return.
That night around 11 p.m., Zhao Shuqing finally got back to the hotel. The front desk staff was tidying up and greeted her warmly upon seeing her. “Miss Zhao.”
Zhao Shuqing turned toward the voice. It was the student worker who’d helped her before.
“Miss Zhao,” the young woman hurried over. “Some people from the embassy came looking for you today, but you weren’t here, and your phone was off, so they left. They said they’d come back tomorrow morning. Hopefully, you can wait in your room for them.”
Zhao Shuqing paused for a moment and immediately grasped the situation.
A brain drain was a serious loss for any country. Zhao Shuqing might not be top-tier elite, but she was still a talent—and in mermaid research, outside of mermaids themselves, she was probably the leading expert.
The embassy was likely pulling out all the stops to get her home.
“Got it,” Zhao Shuqing replied before heading upstairs.
Click.
The door had barely opened when Lin Feng’s ears perked up. Spotting Zhao Shuqing, she leaped off the bed and threw herself into her arms without a word.
The temperature had dropped sharply these days, and Zhao Shuqing’s clothes still carried the chill that hadn’t fully dissipated. Holding her felt like embracing a block of ice.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” Zhao Shuqing shut the door casually and rubbed Lin Feng’s shoulders. Through the thin sleepwear, she could feel her warmth, so she asked with concern, “Didn’t you say you turn in around ten? It’s this late—why aren’t you sleeping?”
Lin Feng looked up at her. “I was waiting for you.”
Zhao Shuqing’s heart stirred. In this foreign land, that wave of loneliness melted away at those words. She cupped Lin Feng’s cheeks with her cold hands and leaned down for a kiss.
Zhao Shuqing’s touch was icy, but her tongue was hot.
Lin Feng felt dizzy from the kiss, her arms wrapped around Zhao Shuqing’s shoulders. The two of them leaned against the door, kissing passionately.
“Zhao Shuqing…” Lin Feng reached up and rubbed the other woman’s cheek, warming her chilled skin with her palms. In a soft voice, she murmured, “You’ve been coming back so late lately. I miss you.”
Zhao Shuqing opened her mouth to speak, but Lin Feng’s hands cradled her face, their warmth chasing away the cold. Holding Little Fish in her arms felt like clutching a little heater.
It warmed her down to her soul.
“Mm.” Zhao Shuqing hummed softly in response before telling Lin Feng, “I’m working on an experiment right now, and I’m a bit stumped, so I’ve been getting back late.”
Though Zhao Shuqing desperately wanted to develop this test paper quickly, without any research direction, it felt like searching for a needle in a haystack.
“An experiment?” Lin Feng tilted her head. “What kind?”
Zhao Shuqing’s gaze darkened slightly. “A test to distinguish mermaids from humans.”
Lin Feng froze at that, taking a long moment before asking, “Are you running into problems?”
Zhao Shuqing didn’t hide it from her. She took Lin Feng’s hand, kissed it, and murmured, “Yeah, some trouble. I don’t know where to start.”
Zhao Shuqing had to admit her own shortcomings. She specialized in marine biology—if she had an expert like Gu Yao in genetics, maybe she wouldn’t be banging her head against this wall.
“…Telomerase.”
Suddenly, Lin Feng spoke up slowly, uttering a term even Zhao Shuqing wasn’t familiar with. Her beautiful blue eyes fixed on Zhao Shuqing as she said, “You should look into mermaid telomerase.”