Zhao Shuqing had been idling aimlessly in the room for nearly an hour when, around 4 a.m., a noise finally sounded from outside the door. She glanced over just as the door swung open, and Yue Jiuchu walked in, accompanied by a middle-aged woman.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Dr. Zhao,” Yue Jiuchu said to her. “This is Committee Member Chen Huijun from the Military District.”
Chen Huijun?
Wasn’t that the name that frequently appeared on the news channels?
Zhao Shuqing hadn’t expected to meet the woman in person under these circumstances.
Chen Huijun was in her fifties, but she looked younger than her age. Her presence was commanding; dressed in a military uniform, she stood there exuding an overwhelming sense of pressure. Her eyes were sharp as knives, making Zhao Shuqing shift uncomfortably in her seat.
“You’re Zhao Shuqing, right?” Chen Huijun walked over and sat down. An aide quickly brought her a cup of strong tea. She cradled the cup in her hands and gave Zhao Shuqing a few appraising looks before smiling faintly. “Could I see that video you played at the airport again?”
Zhao Shuqing blinked in surprise but nodded. “Of course.”
As soon as Zhao Shuqing agreed, someone stepped forward, took her laptop, and placed it in front of Chen Huijun. The committee member didn’t even need to lift a finger; she just watched the screen.
The video started from the beginning, and Zhao Shuqing leaned in to watch along with it, seeing Lin Feng on the screen once more.
The only sounds in the room came from the video’s audio. Chen Huijun watched it calmly from start to finish. Her expression seemed grave, but upon closer inspection, it hadn’t really changed.
When the video ended completely, Chen Huijun set down her teacup and turned to Zhao Shuqing.
“I have something for you to look at too, Dr. Zhao,” she said.
Yue Jiuchu approached and handed Zhao Shuqing a thick kraft paper envelope stamped with “X Archives Confidential Files.” The weight of the sealed packet gave Zhao Shuqing an uneasy sense of oppression. Frowning, she opened it.
The documents were filled with dense text and images. Reading through them chilled her from head to toe.
【In August of Year 2×71, following a report, a home invasion robbery occurred in XX neighborhood. Four out of a family of five were killed, and the robber’s dismembered body was found in the kitchen. Investigation revealed that the robber entered while the family was asleep, murdered them, and was searching for valuables when spotted by the 12-year-old daughter who had returned. The robber tried to kill her too, but she killed and dismembered him instead. Unknown scales and a strange serpentine trail were left at the scene. The girl vanished, and the case was sealed.】
【In June of Year 2×77, a 23-year-old woman reported her girlfriend’s abnormal behavior. It started after they went to the beach, argued, and broke up there. The girlfriend didn’t return to the hotel that night. The woman searched all night to no avail. The next day, her girlfriend returned with a vacant stare and a rigid smile, saying bizarre things, prompting the report. Medical checks showed nothing unusual, so police closed it as a civil dispute.】
【In April of Year 2×82, the local precinct received a report of a strange ritual in apartment 3302. Police arrived, detained over 30 participants, and learned they were worshiping mermaids for eternal life. After warnings, they were released. Later reports came in September and December of the same year, and March of the next, with numbers swelling from over 30 to nearly 200. The final report prompted a crackdown, but 3302 was empty. No similar reports since.】
【In March of Year 2×85, police responded to a school violence case at X Star Middle School. A long-term bullying victim beat her tormentor, who reported it, claiming the girl had drowned three days prior and the one who returned wasn’t her. No solid evidence, so both received warnings.】
【In November of Year 2×90…】
【In September of Year 2×92…】
【In January of Year 2×99…】
Each case had been concealed to some degree, but this thick stack suggested over a hundred similar incidents. An inexplicable feeling welled up in Zhao Shuqing’s heart: mermaids were behind them all.
“We actually noticed these abnormal behaviors among certain people over a decade ago,” Chen Huijun told Zhao Shuqing. “But without evidence and with scattered clues, we couldn’t form a complete picture. Only in recent years have we locked onto some suspects and confirmed they’re the mythical sea creatures—mermaids.”
Zhao Shuqing looked up from the files at Chen Huijun. “How did you confirm it?”
Chen Huijun met her gaze. “We once captured a mermaid.”
Zhao Shuqing’s eyes widened.
“Six years ago, during a murder investigation, police spotted something off and handed the suspect to the Military District. She was an 80-year-old woman who’d stabbed her own granddaughter to death.” Chen Huijun continued, “When she arrived, her mind was muddled. She kept insisting she was a mermaid.”
“At first, we thought it was senility,” Chen Huijun said, taking a sip of tea to moisten her throat before going on. “But then we saw she had many inhuman traits. She claimed to have a mission but couldn’t remember what it was. White scales appeared on her body occasionally, but the next day, she killed herself.”
Chen Huijun still remembered the scene: the room splashed with blood like an explosion, coating even the ceiling. No intact body remained—not even a decent bone fragment.
“We preserved some scales and tissue samples. If you want to see them, we can provide them,” Chen Huijun offered generously.
Zhao Shuqing shook her head. She had no interest in mangled flesh.
“You didn’t bring me here just to show me these, did you?” Zhao Shuqing asked seriously, meeting Chen Huijun’s eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
Chen Huijun got straight to the point, pointing at her. “We need all the data on the mermaid test paper. It’s crucial to us.”
Zhao Shuqing exhaled in relief.
So that was it—they wanted her research data. She’d half-expected them to demand she hand over a mermaid.
“And regarding Lin Feng,” Chen Huijun added immediately, “we’d like you to turn her over to the Military District for custody.”
Zhao Shuqing looked up sharply, frowning. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
Before Chen Huijun could respond, several uniformed officers behind her turned cold stares on Zhao Shuqing, as if she’d committed some heinous crime.
“Why not?” Chen Huijun asked. “That mermaid shouldn’t mean that much to you, should she?”
Zhao Shuqing furrowed her brow. “She means a lot to me.”
Chen Huijun stared deeply into her eyes, as if peering into her soul. After a long moment, she said, “If you won’t hand her over, then stay here, Dr. Zhao, until you’ve thought it through. We’ll talk then.”
She signaled her aides, who confiscated Zhao Shuqing’s laptop and documents. Without another word, Chen Huijun left.
Yue Jiuchu glanced at Zhao Shuqing. “You shouldn’t defy the committee member’s orders. Handing over the mermaid is for your own good.”
Zhao Shuqing shook her head. “I can’t hand her over. She’s not some object.”
Yue Jiuchu looked at her helplessly and sighed. “Don’t be fooled by their beautiful appearances. They’re not fragile little fish—they’re far more vicious than you realize.”
“I might not know about others,” Zhao Shuqing replied. “But Lin Feng isn’t like that.”
Yue Jiuchu waved a hand. “Find Dr. Zhao a nicer room. Looks like she’ll be staying a while.”
Zhao Shuqing was confined with no laptop, no phone, not even a book.
The room was barren, guarded at the door. Her only outside contact was the room’s TV, limited to basic channels—thankfully including news, so she wasn’t completely cut off.
The day after the mermaid incident erupted, the city was locked down. Given mermaids’ tendency to cluster and their low numbers, widespread spread was unlikely, so the main quarantines centered around Zhao Shuqing’s city.
By the third day, mermaid test papers were in mass production. Zhao Shuqing suspected the military had been planning it, given the speed.
Starting on the fourth day, they went door-to-door with blood tests, not sparing even homeless in the slums.
The fifth day’s announcement reported 23 suspected mermaids found the previous day, plus over 100 more under suspicion, all taken to the Isolation Zone for screening.
Sixth day, seventh day…
A week had passed. Each day, Yue Jiuchu came with others to ask if Zhao Shuqing would hand over Lin Feng. Her answer never changed, and Yue Jiuchu would just shake her head helplessly and leave breakfast.
Meals came three times a day. Her routine was eat, sleep, or lie in bed watching news of the latest mermaid captures.
Zhao Shuqing’s days were simple and leisurely.
On the eighth day, she rinsed the green apple they’d brought, shook off the water, and bit into it.
Sour and sweet—pretty good.
“Zhao Shuqing.”
Yue Jiuchu had arrived again. She opened the door and frowned at Zhao Shuqing, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed munching the apple. “Can’t you get off the bed to eat?”
Zhao Shuqing shot her a glance, suspecting the woman had OCD.
“The room’s so small—where am I supposed to go?” She waved the apple. “Want some?”
Yue Jiuchu stepped inside. Before she could speak, Zhao Shuqing cut in: “I’m not telling you anything about Lin Feng.”
Yue Jiuchu gave her a look.
Then she said, “No one asked. You don’t need to preemptively answer.”
With that, Yue Jiuchu handed over a document. “Sign this, and I’ll take you home.”
Zhao Shuqing paused mid-bite and looked up. “You’re letting me go?”
“We had no real reason to hold you anyway.” Yue Jiuchu tossed the file onto the bed beside her. “Sign it, pack your things. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
As Yue Jiuchu left, Zhao Shuqing glanced at the document and spotted the word “mermaid.” She picked it up.
It was a nondisclosure agreement.
