Black waves crashed against the Broken Cliff, accompanied by the howling wind and rain. Amid the storm came faint, whimpering cries that sounded almost human. Inside the Little Wooden Cabin, the oil lamp flickered wildly in the gusts until Lin Feng hurriedly set down her pen and cupped her hands around it. But with a soft “pfft,” the flame snuffed out completely.
Lin Feng raised her head helplessly and gazed at the drafty shack with its slanted roof. For a moment, she had no idea what to do.
It was the seventh day since the Scientific Expedition Team’s shipwreck and the fifth day Lin Feng had spent huddled in this cabin.
Lin Feng was a fresh graduate student who had joined her mentor on the research vessel for an internship in the Pacific Ocean. Their destination had been the legendary Mermaid Island, but they’d run into freakishly bad weather en route. The sturdy research vessel had capsized in the chaos, and Lin Feng had been certain she was done for. Yet when she opened her eyes, she found herself washed up on this deserted island.
Caked in sand, Lin Feng had dragged herself ashore from the beach and started pondering how to begin her own “Lin Feng’s Tale of Shipwreck and Survival.”
But on the second day, she discovered the island wasn’t entirely uninhabited after all. There was a dilapidated lighthouse and this leaky-roofed, wind-whistling little shack.
Unable to keep journaling, Lin Feng had retreated to the shack’s one sheltered corner. She’d wrapped herself in her jacket, leaned against the wall, and fallen asleep. She hadn’t woken until the next morning.
The rain had poured all night, but the following day dawned bright and clear.
The sky was a flawless blue, the sun blazing overhead. When Lin Feng stepped out of the cabin, she blinked in disbelief, wondering if she’d slept for days.
If she had survived, surely some others from the research vessel had too. Convinced this was a solid line of reasoning, Lin Feng gathered a huge pile of wet wood and branches she’d collected the night before. She planned to make some noise with a signal fire.
“Ahem—ahem—cough cough cough cough!”
Lin Feng’s throat burned from the smoke. Clutching her nose, she dropped the flaming stick and dashed to an open patch of ground to catch her breath. She glanced back at the sputtering flames—feeble but belching thick smoke—and rubbed her face with the back of her hand. A grin spread across her features.
Let it burn on its own. Lin Feng’s stomach was growling now; it was time to forage for food.
She descended the barren slope and hadn’t gone far when she froze. Her eyes lit up at the sight of a small figure on the shoreline.
A person.
Someone else had washed up.
Ecstatic, Lin Feng bolted toward the figure. As she drew closer, details came into focus: long black hair draped like seaweed down the figure’s back. The upper body was bare, sprawled face-down on the sand, while the lower half remained half-submerged, indistinct in the waves. But Lin Feng was sure—it was a person.
“Hey!”
Panting hard, Lin Feng skidded to a halt a short distance away. Hands on her hips, she caught her breath before calling out tentatively, “Dead or alive? Can you talk?”
The figure stirred slightly at the sound, her head twitching, but she lacked the strength to lift it.
Alive.
She’s alive!
Lin Feng’s joy surged. She rushed forward and pounced, flipping the figure over. Her eyes gleamed as she exclaimed, “Sister, are you from the expedition team too? I’m Lin Feng from marine engineering. You are…?”
Her words trailed off. There, behind the woman’s ear, were slits like gills. Silver scales gleamed on her cheekbones, and from her waist downward shimmered more silver scales, culminating in a long, thick tail vanishing into the sea.
Lin Feng: “…”
Dear Great-Grandma, I might be seeing you soon.
Help! Why did she have to encounter a silver-white mermaid when she was all alone like this?
Terrified, Lin Feng scrambled backward on hands and knees, ducking behind a nearby rock. “Y-you! Stay back! I don’t have much meat on me—I’m not tasty!”
The mermaid struggled faintly. A pair of black eyes cracked open, flicking toward Lin Feng.
Their gazes locked, and Lin Feng’s breath caught in her throat. But in the next instant, the mermaid’s head drooped, and she went still again.
Waves lapped at her body with frothy whitecaps. Shore crabs scuttled up now and then, flipped over in the surf, and scurried away. Lin Feng crouched behind the rock for a good ten minutes until she was convinced the mermaid had truly passed out. Only then did she creep out cautiously.
She picked up a pebble and lobbed it at the mermaid.
“Plop.” It landed in the mermaid’s black hair, but she didn’t stir. Those long, lovely eyes remained shut tight, oblivious to the world.
Lin Feng threw two more—one hitting the arm, the other the head. Still no reaction. The mermaid lay flat on the sand, looking for all the world like she was dead.
She’d been lively enough to glare at me moments ago. How’d she croak so fast?
Lin Feng tsked and emerged from behind the rock. She grabbed a stray branch and prodded the mermaid with it.
The mermaid’s skin was pale and flawless, her brows, hair, and pupils all jet black. But that tail gleamed silver-white, iridescent in the sunlight—stunningly beautiful.
After a couple pokes with no response, Lin Feng squatted down in front of her, hugging her knees, and examined her curiously.
“A real mermaid?” Lin Feng scratched her head. She scanned the mermaid from head to toe. She didn’t differ much from the descriptions in her mentor’s lectures. Though it was Lin Feng’s first time seeing one in person, her textbook knowledge was rock-solid.
“Gills behind the ears? Check.”
“Sharp nails? Yeah, they look plenty sharp.”
“Fish scales? Covered head to toe—wait, with that tail, she must be over six feet long.”
Muttering to herself, Lin Feng reached out and touched.
So cold.
Her hand trailed from the mermaid’s arm up to her shoulder, then to her chest.
Lin Feng blinked at the bare bosom, a touch embarrassed. But she felt the faint rise and fall beneath her palm. The mermaid wasn’t dead—just unconscious.
The big waves last night must have tossed her ashore.
No obvious wounds, though?
Internal injuries, maybe?
Internal injuries would be tricky. Lin Feng was still just an intern; she had zero experience operating on marine life. She leaned in for a closer look, sighed, and straightened up. “You’re lucky you washed up near me. A live mermaid’s worth way more to study than a dead one, right?”
She’d take her back to the cabin. What if she actually saved her?
If she could get this specimen back to the Research Institute, Lin Feng would be first author on the mermaid paper. PhD admission or a permanent position? In the bag. All for the paper, for science, for enduring this shipwreck on this godforsaken island. For that big villa the institute would surely give her upon retirement…
Gritting her teeth, Lin Feng hoisted the mermaid over her shoulder. This mermaid had better stay alive.
“Plop.”
Flames crackled in the Little Wooden Cabin, casting a warm glow over the dim interior. In the corner, the mermaid slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Lin Feng, sitting by the fire, scribbling intently in her notebook.
Lin Feng was utterly absorbed, the firelight flickering across her face in shades of orange.
On the other side of the flames, several stiff, wide-eyed fish skewered on branches roasted slowly. The mermaid caught the savory aroma of cooking flesh. Her throat bobbed—she was hungry.
Lin Feng was jotting in her wrinkled notebook: [Lin·Robinson·Feng, today picked up a silver-white beautiful mermaid on the beach. She has black long hair, black brows, black eyes. Skin ghostly pale. Glares like a female ghost.]
Hmm… too repetitive?
This was supposed to be her memoir-style novel.
Lin Feng tapped her temple with the pen cap, crossed out the line, and pondered before rewriting: [Skylark, you really need to wise up.]
Just then, a rustle came from the corner. Lin Feng looked up—and locked eyes with the silver-white mermaid. Those fierce black pupils bored into her. In the cabin’s gloom, Lin Feng’s hackles rose.
Her description was spot on—this mermaid was a ghost.
Lin Feng desperately wanted to scream for help, but she feared enraging the creature. Her lips paled, her hands trembled. The mermaid leaned against the wall, glaring coldly, then pushed herself up—only to feel a tug at her waist.
She glanced down at the crumpled fabric tied around her middle in a clumsy knot, the other end secured to the opposite wall. Bewilderment crossed her face.
“Y-you’re awake?” Lin Feng leaped to her feet, eyeing her warily. “Don’t move! I’ve got you tied up. I’m the smartest human around—dealing with wild species like you is just a poke away… fish…”
Her voice faltered. The “rope” she’d tied with all her might? The mermaid’s sharp nails sliced through it effortlessly.
Sliced clean through.
Lin Feng sucked in a gasp and bolted for the door. All her textbook knowledge fled—what was that about not showing your back to wildlife? Staring it down to intimidate? Forgotten. Right now, survival was all that mattered.
This was a mermaid—the most vicious sea predator in every book.
Lin Feng had barely stepped outside when a gust hit her from behind. The next instant, she was tackled to the ground. The silver-white mermaid pinned her down. Lin Feng could even smell the faint fishy tang on her.
“Hel—”
Lin Feng tried to cry out, but terror choked her voice. Who would come to her aid anyway? In that moment, she regretted her hubris. Why had she bothered saving a mermaid? Now that it was awake, she’d end up as chum.
The mermaid reached around from behind, fingers clamping Lin Feng’s neck. Despair washed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trembling on the ground, bracing for death.
But seconds ticked by with no killing blow. Something felt off. The mermaid pressed closer; Lin Feng felt icy breath ghosting over her neck, raising goosebumps everywhere.
The mermaid inhaled Lin Feng’s scent, perhaps remembering something. Propping herself up with her silver-white tail, she glanced at the prone human, then bent down, slung Lin Feng over her shoulder, and tossed her into the haystack inside the cabin.
