Chapter 12

After fussing around for what felt like ages, Zhao Shuqing finally hoisted Lin Feng onto her back and trudged into the woods.

Lin Feng wasn’t heavy, but her tail was long. When she lay across Zhao Shuqing’s back, that meter-long tail dragged along the ground like a broom, sweeping up dirt and leaves with every step.

Zhao Shuqing realized this wasn’t sustainable. She turned to Lin Feng and suggested, “How about wrapping your tail around my waist instead?”

Lin Feng stared at her blankly. Zhao Shuqing patted the mermaid’s tail fin, pointed to her own waist, and repeated, “Your tail—around my waist.”

The beautiful mermaid glanced down at her tail, then back at Zhao Shuqing. Her face twisted in hesitation as she stared for a long moment. Finally, she flicked away the dirty leaves clinging to her scales and carefully wrapped her tail around Zhao Shuqing’s midsection.

Zhao Shuqing couldn’t fathom why Lin Feng was taking so long about it. With one hand steadying the mermaid’s rear, she used the other to adjust that long, shimmering tail into place. Worried it might slip free, she even tied it secure with her jacket.

Lin Feng buried her face in the crook of Zhao Shuqing’s neck, her ear tips flushing a deep red.

Completely unaware that this entwined-tail position signified mating among mermaids, Zhao Shuqing finished securing everything, grabbed her sturdy walking stick, and plunged deeper into the dense forest.

The trek was grueling from the start.

The deep woods felt like a vast, natural labyrinth. Though it was broad daylight, the thick canopy overhead blocked out most of the sunlight. Some spots were so dim that it was impossible to see clearly without straining, and spiders, snakes, and swarms of insects lurked everywhere.

Fortunately, those creatures weren’t very active during the day, and Zhao Shuqing took care to steer clear of them. They avoided any major trouble.

By noon, Zhao Shuqing was thoroughly worn out. She found a slightly open clearing and eased Lin Feng down from her back. From her pack, she pulled out the leftover grilled fish from breakfast and prepared to make do with a quick meal.

“This isn’t going to work,” Zhao Shuqing said with a frown, addressing Lin Feng. “If we don’t get out of here in the next three days, we’re as good as dead.”

Lin Feng cradled the cold grilled fish, her expression hinting at dissatisfaction as she glanced questioningly at Zhao Shuqing—why wasn’t it hot?

Zhao Shuqing explained, “It’s too damp here to start a fire. We’ll just have to eat it cold.”

Lin Feng seemed to understand. She gazed at the now-chilled fish in her hands, her mood visibly souring.

But she didn’t complain. Instead, she sat quietly to one side and began nibbling obediently.

Zhao Shuqing forced down a single piece of fish before losing her appetite entirely.

She scanned their surroundings. As someone accustomed to city life, her encounters with nature had been limited to vacations and strolls through her apartment complex’s landscaped gardens. Venturing into a deep forest for the first time left her utterly unprepared—she hadn’t even thought to pack extra food. All she had left was that half-eaten grilled fish from morning.

Even if she had brought more, it probably wouldn’t have helped. With temperatures pushing over ninety degrees Fahrenheit, any cooked food would have spoiled by midday anyway.

Zhao Shuqing let out a weary sigh. She resolved to climb a tree and scout for a glimpse of the forest’s edge.

Lin Feng finished her fish and looked up just in time to see Zhao Shuqing eyeing a tall, straight dawn redwood. The researcher rolled up her sleeves, ready to climb, but her tree-scaling skills were nonexistent. She barely made it five centimeters off the ground before sliding back down, scraping bark everywhere she went.

Lin Feng swam upright over to her, tilting her head curiously as she watched Zhao Shuqing’s futile efforts, question marks practically floating above her.

“You arrived just in time,” Zhao Shuqing called out. “I want to climb up there to figure out how to get out of here—which direction to head. Stand below and give me a boost? The trunk’s too slippery; I can’t get a grip.”

Lin Feng caught her meaning and murmured, “Direction?”

Zhao Shuqing nodded. “Exactly. We need to escape this place.”

Lin Feng blinked, then glanced up at the towering redwood. She reached out, her sharp nails effortlessly piercing the trunk. To Zhao Shuqing’s astonishment, she spiraled upward like a serpent, climbing with ease.

Zhao Shuqing’s eyes nearly bulged from her head.

Good heavens, what kind of wondrous creature was a mermaid?

With lifespans up to five hundred years, they dominated the oceans with scarcely any natural predators. Enzymes in their bodies granted incredible regenerative powers for rapid clotting and wound healing. And now, tree-climbing too?

Truly the pinnacle of amphibious life.

Lin Feng quickly reached the treetop. The redwood Zhao Shuqing had chosen was impressively tall, offering a clear view of the surroundings.

Luck was on their side. The riverbank where they’d rested was along a tributary of a larger river, flanked by dense forest on both sides. To the south stretched an endless sea of trees and mountains. To the north, a long ribbon of road was faintly visible.

“A road?”

Zhao Shuqing crouched on the ground, studying the map Lin Feng had sketched for her. She scratched her chin in puzzlement. “How’s there a road around here? Is this a road or train tracks you drew? Maybe a highway?”

Lin Feng tilted her head, clearly lost.

Zhao Shuqing chuckled and reached out to ruffle her hair reassuringly. “It’s fine. What you’ve done is already amazing. Without you, I’d probably have drowned on day one.”

Lin Feng looked puzzled. “Dead?”

“Uh, that’s a tough one to explain. We’ll save it for later.” Zhao Shuqing waved it off, stood, and packed their things. “That road doesn’t look far. Let’s head north. With any luck, we’ll run into people.”

If fortune truly smiled on them and they encountered a villager or passerby, salvation might be at hand.

When Zhao Shuqing prepared to carry Lin Feng again, the mermaid immediately backed away two steps and shook her head firmly—no more piggyback rides.

“Can you walk on your own?” Zhao Shuqing eyed her tail with concern. “The underbrush here is full of sharp branches. If you get scratched, it’ll be a problem.”

It wouldn’t matter much if Zhao Shuqing got hurt—that counted as a work-related injury, and even if she perished on duty, her family would receive millions in compensation. But Lin Feng was different. She was national property, the world’s one and only mermaid.

Not a single scratch allowed.

Lin Feng shook her head again, her ears burning red. She refused point-blank to be carried. With no other choice, Zhao Shuqing coaxed her into holding hands instead, so she wouldn’t wander off.

Only then did Lin Feng nod in agreement.

Traveling side by side proved much faster than carrying a passenger, but as the old saying goes, mountains that look near enough to touch can run a horse to death. That seemingly short distance took them an entire day—and into the night. They pressed on for another three or four hours without stopping, finally emerging from the forest as darkness fell.

Zhao Shuqing was on the verge of collapse. She’d eaten only that one piece of fish at lunch, and the uneven terrain had sapped her strength. Her legs trembled with exhaustion.

Yet she held up her torch, gazing at the narrow concrete road before them. She and Lin Feng were saved at last.