Chapter 116

Legend had it that mermaids possessed a homeland deep beneath the sea, a place no other creature could reach. No one had ever laid eyes on it, and it was mentioned only in passing in movies and TV shows. In reality, neither Zhao Shuqing herself nor Shen Qingming had any records of Atlantis.

The mermaid had laid out her situation crystal clear to groom Shen Qingming, yet she alone concealed two key details: how mermaids devoured humans and the location of their homeland.

Zhao Shuqing recalled the times she had spent with Lin Feng in the past. Whenever the topic of returning home came up, Lin Feng always wore a troubled expression, as if she held no fondness for that place at all. And now, Zhao Shuqing had heard the name again in her dream—this time, heading there on a ship alongside a group of mermaids.

She couldn’t fathom why this ship kept invading her dreams, one after the other. The windowless room relied solely on the overhead light, leaving her unable to distinguish day from night.

The voices outside the door continued their chatter. Zhao Shuqing lifted her feet and approached the doorway, straining to listen more closely.

“Only two days until we arrive. We now have mature technology at our disposal, so even back home, we won’t fret over the lack of baby mermaids. It’s been centuries since I last saw one.”

“I love baby mermaids too. I truly hope I can have one of my own. I’ve even come up with a name for her.”

“A name? Do us mermaids even need names?”

“Why not? Humans use names to tell each other apart. We mermaids can do the same.”

“You make a good point. Huh, do I smell something odd?”

The shadow beneath the door crept slowly closer. Even through the door panel, Zhao Shuqing caught the faint fishy tang wafting in. The mermaid on the other side seemed to stand right before her.

“What kind of smell?”

“It smells like… a human.”

Zhao Shuqing’s heart clenched abruptly. She took an instinctive step back from the door, only to see the lock rattling furiously up and down with sharp click-click sounds.

“Why won’t this door open?” the voice outside wondered aloud. “Is someone in there?”

Zhao Shuqing scanned her surroundings. The room was little more than a small box, offering no hiding spots—not even the cabinet could accommodate her. If a true mermaid waited beyond that door, her forced entry would spell Zhao Shuqing’s doom.

The realization sent her heart pounding wildly, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. With nowhere to flee, she could only watch in helpless dread as the lock jiggled desperately until it snapped with a decisive crack.

“It’s open,” the mermaid outside announced.

Zhao Shuqing’s pupils dilated as she stared at the door easing slowly open before her…

“Meow!”

A piercing cat’s yowl jolted Zhao Shuqing awake. Her heart thundered on the verge of bursting. Before she could gather her wits, the room echoed with one anguished feline cry after another.

Zhao Shuqing scrambled out of bed. She never closed her bedroom door at night, allowing Pumpkin easy access for meals and water. Stepping into the living room, she found the cat with every hair on its body bristled straight up, screeching at the front door.

“Hiss!”

Already plump, Pumpkin now appeared massive with its fur puffed out, its tail resembling a burst feather duster as it menaced the door with ferocious hisses.

Zhao Shuqing knit her brows. Ever since moving into this apartment, Pumpkin had taken to these bizarre freak-outs for no apparent reason. Yesterday, it had clawed at the neighbor’s door; today, it menaced the entrance.

As if someone lurked just beyond.

Zhao Shuqing approached the door, nudging Pumpkin aside with her foot. She flipped open the peephole cover and peered out. The corridor lights cast a dim glow, illuminating a little girl in a pink nightgown tiptoeing along the wall next to Zhao Shuqing’s unit, tinkering with something.

Had Pumpkin been yowling at her?

A total stranger might have prompted a call to the police, but Zhao Shuqing recognized this girl from that morning—the daughter of the folks across the hall. She couldn’t imagine what drew the child sneaking over at this early hour.

Zhao Shuqing swung the door open and fixed a cold stare on the girl, who was pressed against her wall. “What are you doing?”

The girl clutched a red crayon, mid-sketch, when Zhao Shuqing startled her. Their eyes locked for a beat before she turned tail and fled.

Bang! The door across the hall slammed shut. Zhao Shuqing froze for two seconds, then twisted around to examine her wall.

Countless red crayon circles adorned the white surface. For such a tiny child, the artwork climbed nearly to the ceiling. Zhao Shuqing stepped outside and retreated a few paces to take in the full design.

A massive dreamcatcher.

“I’m so sorry. Really, truly sorry.”

The mother from across the hall appeared at Zhao Shuqing’s door herself, her face etched with worry. “I had no clue Xiao Qi would pull something like this. She normally sleeps with me—I never noticed her slip out this morning.”

The woman turned to Zhao Shuqing. “I’ll scrub that drawing off your wall clean. You’ve got my deepest apologies for the hassle.”

Zhao Shuqing regarded the mother evenly. “I’m not blaming you. It’s just… your daughter strikes me as odd. Showing up at my door around five in the morning to draw a giant dreamcatcher? It left me deeply uneasy.”

These past couple of days, with their eerily similar dreams, had Zhao Shuqing half-convinced the girl had somehow meddled in her sleep.

The woman looked mortified. “Xiao Qi’s never done anything remotely like this before. I swear, I was clueless.”

Zhao Shuqing noted the woman’s earnest remorse—endless apologies laced with offers of compensation. Money wasn’t the issue; what baffled her was how a girl barely scraping five feet could reach the ceiling.

After a brief pause, Zhao Shuqing asked, “Has your daughter ever taken a mermaid test paper?”

The woman blinked in surprise, then bobbed her head vigorously. “Yes, plenty of times. She’s fully human—no mermaid at all. If you doubt it, we can test right now. I’ll run out and grab some paper.”

Mermaid test paper was now mass-produced, stocked in every pharmacy and clinic for instant access.

Zhao Shuqing nodded. The woman dashed downstairs to the pharmacy across from the apartment. While waiting, Zhao Shuqing eyed the enormous dreamcatcher once more.

She glanced back at the firmly shut door opposite. Ever since her discovery, the little girl had remained barricaded inside, too ashamed to show her face—like a child caught red-handed.

It all felt profoundly strange, no matter the angle.

The woman soon returned with the mermaid test paper and hauled Xiao Qi over in front of Zhao Shuqing for a fingertip blood test.

The result was unequivocal: Xiao Qi was human.

Relief washed over the woman’s face as she met Zhao Shuqing’s gaze. “See? My Xiao Qi’s one hundred percent human. No mermaid here.”

Zhao Shuqing remained silent, studying Xiao Qi instead. Even as the needle pricked her finger for blood, the girl’s eyes stayed fixed on Zhao Shuqing—brimming with timid fear and keen curiosity, yet utterly devoid of guilt.

Most children would shrink in shame after mischief, eyes darting away. Not this one.

“Xiao Qi, isn’t it?”

Zhao Shuqing dragged over a chair and sat, locking eyes with the girl. “Can you tell me why you drew that dreamcatcher on my door?”

Xiao Qi shrank behind her mother, clutching at her clothes, and murmured, “Someone asked me to.”

“Someone asked you?” Zhao Shuqing puzzled. “Who?”

Xiao Qi blinked up shyly. “The older sister next door to us. The new one who just moved in.”

The woman gaped in astonishment. She crouched to Xiao Qi’s level. “Why on earth would she ask you to do that? Don’t you realize it causes trouble for people?”

“It doesn’t,” Xiao Qi replied matter-of-factly. “That older sister said it’s the only way to keep her safe.”

Xiao Qi swiveled toward Zhao Shuqing. “I know who you are. You’re Zhao Shuqing, the mermaid keeper. This protects you too.”

Zhao Shuqing’s brow furrowed. “How do you know my name? Who exactly is this older sister? Did she show you how to draw it?”

Xiao Qi sidestepped the latter questions, homing in on the first. “You’re the keeper—Lin Feng’s keeper. I’ve seen you on TV.” She pointed at the mermaid doll atop the TV cabinet. “Mom took me to the oceanarium once. I saw you there and heard the mermaid singing.”

Awareness dawned on the woman. She turned to Zhao Shuqing, squinting in recognition before her eyes widened. “Oh! You’re her. Sorry, Miss Zhao—I didn’t place you.”

Zhao Shuqing shook her head.

“A few months back, I took Xiao Qi to the oceanarium,” the woman explained. “She’s mad about mermaids; must’ve memorized you from then.”

No wonder the child kept staring—it was hero worship by proxy.

“I’m no longer a keeper,” Zhao Shuqing said quietly.

The woman shot her a glance laced with unspoken understanding and nodded. “Of course.”

Neither broached Lin Feng’s name, but Xiao Qi bubbled over with enthusiasm. “Mom, isn’t it awesome having so many mermaids now? We’ll spot them right on the street. How cool is that?”

The woman managed a wry smile, ruffling Xiao Qi’s hair in silence.

Zhao Shuqing rose to her feet. “Which room does the other new tenant occupy? I’d like to ask her motives.”

“Room 1707—the same day you moved in,” the woman recalled. “Haven’t seen her out much, though. Just a hello when she first arrived.”

“The same day as me?” Zhao Shuqing’s frown deepened. The neighbor rang no bells.

The woman nodded insistently and led Zhao Shuqing to 1707, with Xiao Qi trailing and clutching her leg in distress. “That older sister’s super nice, Mom. Please don’t be mean to her.”

Ignoring the plea, the woman rapped sharply on the door.

“Hello? Anyone home?” she called inside. “Did you put my daughter up to vandalizing someone else’s door? Open up—we can talk this out. Why get a child mixed up in nonsense like that?”

Xiao Qi’s eyes welled with tears as she tugged her mother’s clothes. “Mom… Mom… It wasn’t bad! I didn’t do anything wrong… waaah…”

Knocks and sobs rose and fell in tandem, prompting curious neighbors to crack their doors. Yet Room 1707 stayed resolutely shut.

Not even a hint of occupancy within.