Chapter 13

The moonlight was particularly bright that night. Glancing at the reflective signs along the road, Zhao Shuqing judged that this must be a remote provincial road. All around them stretched dense forests and rice paddies, with no lighted buildings in sight across the endless fields.

Zhao Shuqing tried waiting in place for a while to see if any cars would pass by, but to her disappointment, more than two hours went by without a single vehicle.

With no other choice, she decided to rest there with Lin Feng for the night and look around again once dawn broke.

Lin Feng was already dozing off nearby. She had pillowed her head on her own tail and sprawled across a nearby rock to sleep. Hearing footsteps, she lifted her head and gazed blearily at Zhao Shuqing, her expression bewildered.

Zhao Shuqing sat down beside her and said helplessly, “No cars. We’ll have to spend another night here.”

Lin Feng understood and lowered her head again, resting it on her tail as she watched Zhao Shuqing. Seeing her start to settle in for sleep, Lin Feng thought for a moment before scooting closer.

The moment the mermaid drew near, a faint scent of sea salt wafted over, and her cool fish scales felt just like a natural ice pack—remarkably comfortable.

Zhao Shuqing chuckled softly and turned onto her side, gazing at Lin Feng lying beside her. In a low voice, she murmured, “You’re really suffering by sticking with me. This is no treatment for a national treasure—right off the shore, and we’re out here surviving in the wilderness.”

Lin Feng didn’t understand the words, but she knew Zhao Shuqing was just chatting idly with her. Softly, she muttered, “Zhao Shuqing… oceanarium…”

Zhao Shuqing paused, then reached out to gently pat her head. “Don’t worry. We’ll find the oceanarium.”

The next day, Zhao Shuqing woke at first light.

Roughing it out in the open for two days had been tough for someone accustomed to office and laboratory life. After sleeping on the ground, she awoke with an aching back and sore waist, feeling as though she’d been run over by some massive beast. Every part of her body hurt.

She twisted her stiff neck and scanned their surroundings, only to find Lin Feng missing.

Zhao Shuqing: “…”

She was used to it by now.

She sat there in a daze for a moment, then reached down to rub her stomach.

She hadn’t eaten dinner the night before and had walked all day yesterday. Now hunger had her dizzy and weak, her limbs as limp as noodles. She had no strength left.

This was heading straight for low blood sugar. If she didn’t get some food soon, she wouldn’t last much longer.

Just as Zhao Shuqing was about to stand and search for Lin Feng, a commotion erupted in the dense forest across the road. A huge flock of birds burst into the air, scattering in panic amid shrill cries that sounded like something—or someone—had its throat clutched tight.

Her heart clenched. Fearing it was Lin Feng in trouble, she scrambled to her feet and dashed into the woods. But after just two minutes of running, dizziness overwhelmed her. Clutching a tree trunk for support, she searched frantically while calling out, “Lin Feng!”

Soon, a figure emerged from the depths of the forest. Lin Feng stepped out covered in blood, the morning mist framing the gore on her face and making her look utterly terrifying.

“…Lin Feng?” Zhao Shuqing stared at her in shock. Her gaze fell to Lin Feng’s hand, where she saw… a pig?

With its black bristles, oversized head, and compact rear, along with the distinctive patterns on its hide, it was unmistakably a live wild boar.

Lin Feng wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand, then casually flung the boar to the ground with a heavy thud right in front of Zhao Shuqing. The impact made Zhao Shuqing’s whole body jolt.

Zhao Shuqing swallowed nervously and crouched down to examine the boar. It was stone dead, its neck bearing a razor-sharp claw mark that exposed pink muscle and gleaming white bone beneath.

Worthy of an ocean overlord.

She could conquer heaven and earth alike.

Not even wild boars stood a chance.

Zhao Shuqing shrugged it off, stood up, and gave the plump carcass a nudge with her foot. Turning to Lin Feng, she said, “Breakfast it is—roast wild boar meat.”

Cleaning the boar proved tricky. Zhao Shuqing struggled for ages without knowing where to start, so Lin Feng took over. Following Zhao Shuqing’s directions, she severed its hind legs, washed them clean by the river, skinned them, and set them to roast over a fire.

“Smells pretty good.” Zhao Shuqing held a piece of golden-brown boar meat to her nose and inhaled deeply. It was fragrant, without a hint of gaminess.

Lin Feng sat on the other side of the fire, mimicking her by roasting another leg. Now cleaned up, her beauty shone through once more, her bright eyes fixed eagerly on the meat as if she were famished.

“Lin Feng, did you know that boars used to be castrated? Otherwise, they’d have such a strong gamey smell you couldn’t eat them.” Zhao Shuqing turned the meat in her hands and continued chatting casually. “That changed a few hundred years ago, when a virus broke out on Earth. It was harmless, even undetectable, but its only purpose was to reduce reproductive ability—especially in males, who basically lost the capacity to reproduce altogether.”

Lin Feng lifted her head and looked at Zhao Shuqing.

“So for centuries now, the human population has been declining steadily. Infertile males have become largely useless, and the animal kingdom’s the same. Boars like this are born only to be culled by nature. If they grow big at all, it’s just so they can end up on someone’s plate.”

Zhao Shuqing wasn’t sure why she was telling Lin Feng all this, but she was curious herself. If humans and animals had changed that way, what about the mermaid world? Were males there completely infertile too?

Lin Feng seemed not to grasp her words. She lowered her head again, staring at the roasting leg before her, her eyes dimming.

Zhao Shuqing sighed helplessly. “Oh well. You don’t understand anyway. Consider it me talking to myself.”

With that, she handed her nearly done leg to Lin Feng, took over the other one, and kept roasting. It took them more than an hour to finish breakfast. They sliced up the remaining meat, packed it, and slung it over their shoulders.

“Alright, pick a direction.” Zhao Shuqing stood in the middle of the road and said to Lin Feng, “Left or right—you choose.”

Lin Feng blinked and looked down both stretches of road. Finally, she pointed straight ahead, indicating they should go that way.

“Good, forward it is.” Zhao Shuqing smiled, then crouched halfway down. “Hop on. The cement’s rough—don’t want to hurt your tail again.”

She had eaten her fill that morning, so carrying Lin Feng wouldn’t be an issue.

Lin Feng eyed Zhao Shuqing’s back and hesitated for several seconds before resignedly clambering aboard.

And so the pair set off down the provincial road on foot. Zhao Shuqing walked all morning—covering what must have been over ten kilometers—before finally spotting what looked like a building in the distance.

By the time they reached it, she was drenched in sweat, but she could see clearly now: it was an old, rundown convenience store.