The man grew more excited as he spoke, eagerly recommending to Zhao Shuqing which parts of the mermaid tasted the best.
“The fish tail is definitely the tastiest, followed by the meat from the belly and back,” the man said. “Whether you stew it clear, braise it in brown sauce, or even eat it raw as sashimi, the flavor is exceptional.”
The short-haired mermaid cried even harder, and Zhao Shuqing couldn’t help glancing at her.
The mermaid gazed back at her with tear-filled eyes. Her pupils were a warm coffee-brown, her skin not especially pale but rosy and healthy, making her look more human than Lin Feng ever had.
Catching Zhao Shuqing’s gaze, the short-haired mermaid assumed she was sizing up which part of her would taste best. She squeezed her eyes shut and began sobbing again with soft whimpers.
The man couldn’t stand the mermaid’s crying. He raised his foot to kick her, but Zhao Shuqing stopped him.
“Don’t keep kicking her,” Zhao Shuqing said. “You’ll ruin the meat, and then it won’t taste good.”
The man thought she had a point. He grinned and asked, “So, miss, how would you like to buy it?”
“I was originally thinking of buying a bit to try,” Zhao Shuqing replied. “I’ve never eaten mermaid before. But your prices are too high. I’ll look around some more.”
With that, she turned to leave.
“Hey, wait! The price is negotiable,” the man called, chasing after her. He followed Zhao Shuqing out and said, “If it’s too expensive, you can split it with someone else. Even half a pound is fine.”
The mermaid in the cage opened her eyes and watched as Zhao Shuqing and the man left the factory together. She curled up tighter and continued crying softly.
In the end, the man failed to stop Zhao Shuqing. He watched helplessly as she drove away, spitting on the ground in disgust. “Bah, cheapskate. If you can’t afford it, don’t bother coming to buy mermaid.”
After cursing the broke woman, the man returned to the factory and draped the waterproof tarp over the cage. Seeing the short-haired mermaid still crying irritated him, so he kicked the cage and snarled, “Cry, cry, cry! Shut up already, you jinx. Keep it up, and I’ll kill you and toss you in the freezer.”
Terrified, the short-haired mermaid stared at him with wide, frightened eyes until he covered the cage with the tarp.
Meanwhile, Zhao Shuqing hadn’t gone far. She pulled over to the roadside and called Yue Jiuchu, filling her in on the situation at the factory.
“They’re selling mermaid meat?” Yue Jiuchu sounded intrigued. “That’s a new one. I’ve never heard of anything like it.”
Zhao Shuqing explained, “They claim mermaid meat restores male fertility and extends lifespan. It’s not cheap either—a thousand bucks a pound for the tail.”
Yue Jiuchu let out a low whistle. “They’ve got some nerve charging that much. If mermaids really had those benefits, do you think these guys would get to eat them first?”
Zhao Shuqing lowered her eyes and said, “That mermaid is still alive. See if you can come rescue her.”
Yue Jiuchu hesitated for a moment before replying, “We’re on our way.”
After hanging up, Zhao Shuqing gazed out the window. The factory was in a remote spot with only one access road, so she could see anyone approaching. Fortunately, until Yue Jiuchu and her team arrived, no customers showed up to buy mermaid meat.
Yue Jiuchu brought a sizable team, and they searched the factory, uncovering two mermaid skeletons. It was clear this wasn’t their first time doing business.
The skeletons weren’t complete—the arm and lower body bones were missing, likely sold off. Only the skulls and torsos remained, intended for a wealthy out-of-town collector, but they hadn’t been shipped out yet.
The short-haired mermaid was rescued, but given a mermaid’s strength, they kept her in the cage for now, untying her ropes and giving her water and food.
Starving, the mermaid snatched up the fish and devoured it. She must have gone hungry for days.
Watching her eat reminded Zhao Shuqing of when they had first pulled Lin Feng from the sea. She had been the same way, eating raw fish and barely understanding human speech.
“What are you planning to do with this mermaid?” Zhao Shuqing asked Yue Jiuchu. “She doesn’t look like she’s ever eaten anyone.”
“Indeed not,” Yue Jiuchu agreed. “She understands some of what we say but can’t speak. Probably a fresh one just come ashore. We’ll take her for research.”
“You’re not going to eat her, are you?” Zhao Shuqing asked.
Yue Jiuchu shot her a look. “We don’t have that kind of fetish. And I’m not into raw fish either.”
Zhao Shuqing glanced at the short-haired mermaid in the cage, hesitating before asking, “Can I say a few words to her?”
Yue Jiuchu nodded, signaling her to be careful.
The short-haired mermaid had just eaten her fill after days of hunger. She had nearly thought she was done for earlier, but now, though still scared, she realized these people were probably good.
“Hello,” Zhao Shuqing said, crouching by the cage and peering in at the mermaid. “You can understand me, right?”
The mermaid looked at her with those coffee-brown eyes, realizing this was the one who had saved her. She nodded slightly.
“I want to ask about another mermaid,” Zhao Shuqing said, pulling up a photo of Lin Feng on her phone and showing it to her. “Have you seen this one in the ocean? Her name’s Lin Feng. She’s a blue-tailed mermaid like you.”
The short-haired mermaid in the cage studied the photo carefully, then gently shook her head.
Zhao Shuqing’s disappointment showed in her downcast eyes as she pocketed her phone.
Yue Jiuchu noticed and walked over. “You’re looking for Lin Feng.”
Zhao Shuqing looked up at her.
“So are we,” Yue Jiuchu said. “If you hear anything, let us know right away.”
Zhao Shuqing’s dark eyes met hers steadily. Yue Jiuchu tilted her head with a smile. “Don’t give me that look. We’re not enemies.”
She patted Zhao Shuqing’s shoulder and called to her team, “Get a trailer over here. Let’s take this mermaid back to the military base.”
As Yue Jiuchu and her people got busy, Zhao Shuqing slipped away unnoticed. By the time she reached the market again, it was nearly noon. She bought a fish and two pieces of fresh chicken breast. Breakfast for the cat was out, so she’d have to make do with some kibble; the meat and fish would go home.
She parked in the complex lot and carried her groceries upstairs.
The moment she opened the door, Pumpkin shot out like a cannonball, darting into the hallway and racing back and forth madly.
Zhao Shuqing stood in the doorway, rolling her eyes. “What’s gotten into you in broad daylight?”
Pumpkin, of course, couldn’t answer. After two laps, she skidded to a halt and clawed frantically at that door, whining pitifully. Her usually squinty eyes were wide with excitement.
“Meow—! Meow—! Meow—!”
Little Fatty yowled loudly. Worried about disturbing the neighbors, Zhao Shuqing set down her bags, scooped her up, and held her.
“What’s the matter with you?” Zhao Shuqing frowned. “Is there a mouse in there or something?”
Pumpkin perched on her shoulder, reluctant to be carried away. She yowled in protest, her cries echoing like a banshee.
Puzzled, Zhao Shuqing glanced at the neighboring door again.
It was the second door diagonally across from hers. Nothing seemed special from the entrance, but she didn’t understand why Pumpkin was so obsessed. On impulse, she checked the room number.
1707.
Nothing out of the ordinary there.
Pumpkin kept wailing like a stuck pig, so Zhao Shuqing hurried back inside and shut the door. Instantly, the cat went quiet.
No more meowing, no glaring. She even pinched her voice small.
“Meow~”
Zhao Shuqing: “…”
Stubborn clingy cat.
Pumpkin nuzzled her cheek gooily, a far cry from the hallway howler. Finally, Zhao Shuqing set her down and took the fish to the kitchen to cook.
For lunch, Zhao Shuqing ate simply and made a batch of cat food, planning to feed Pumpkin later when she went out. The cat, sans midday antics, lay quietly on the bed, hogging Zhao Shuqing’s pillow and yawning hugely.
In the afternoon, Zhao Shuqing searched online for recent mermaid incidents.
Nearly a month had passed, and people’s fear of mermaids had eased. Some even posted encounters online; the bolder ones live-streamed to show off.
It was risky behavior, but mermaids were growing scarce. Finding a live one was incredibly hard.
Scrolling through, Zhao Shuqing idly watched videos from netizens claiming mermaid sightings. None delivered anything special—often not even a fish in sight.
Some turned it into memes, dancing at home in mermaid costumes and racking up likes.
Searching “blue mermaid” brought up duplicates, mostly months-old photos of Lin Feng from tourists excited to see her at the oceanarium.
Videos of her in the water, photos of visitors posing with her through the glass.
Zhao Shuqing lingered on each one for a long time.
At last, she understood what it truly meant to wait bitterly for someone…
When Zhao Shuqing opened her eyes, she found herself back on that cruise ship. This time, not on deck, but in a cabin.
Why here again?
Zhao Shuqing looked around, wondering at the odds of lucid dreaming the same place twice in a row. The cabin was a cramped box—no balcony, no windows, just a shower stall and a double bed.
She couldn’t fathom why she kept dreaming of this ship.
Zhao Shuqing paced the room. Nothing unusual; even the closet was empty. She had no idea if she was a passenger or crew in this dream.
No mirror either, so she couldn’t see her face, but her clothes looked normal—her usual casual style.
As she puzzled over it, footsteps echoed in the corridor. Zhao Shuqing turned, ears perked.
“Heading home—aren’t you excited?” A clear, girlish voice spoke cheerfully at the door. “I like the ocean better than land, anyway. Swimming free, so much better than walking on two legs, right?”
The girl continued, “We mermaids belong back in our homeland. Don’t you agree?”
Zhao Shuqing froze. She realized then that the entire ship was full of mermaids, bound for their legendary homeland—Atlantis.
