Chapter 169: Side Story IF Route 13

After Xu Tang led the team ashore, they launched a large-scale search. Lin Feng trailed silently behind them, her heart still pounding with fear. But she had no idea if the mermaid had left or sensed their presence—whatever the case, it had left no traces behind at all.

Night fell quickly, and the group began setting up camp.

Near the equator, the temperature barely changed, so even after dark, the air remained stiflingly hot. They found a clearing and pitched several tents. In the center, they built a campfire and set a pot over it. That was camp.

Dinner was a simple vegetable soup paired with canned meat and freshly cooked rice—nutritious enough. But Lin Feng had no appetite. After two bites, she picked up her meal box and headed to the nearby rocks, gazing worriedly at the research vessel anchored not far offshore.

She needed to come up with a plan.

With no entertainment after the meal, everyone tidied up and prepared to turn in for the night. Lin Feng shared a tent with another female researcher. She didn’t have much to say to the stranger, so she decided to wander a bit.

That wander took her all the way to the spot where the lifeboat had wrecked before.

Months of tides had eroded the shore, leaving only half the boat behind. The rest had drifted off to who knew where. The moonlight was bright, illuminating the beach in stark clarity.

Lin Feng waded into the shallows, holding her shoes above the water, and climbed onto the nearest reef.

She opened her mouth but hesitated to call out Zhao Shuqing’s name. Part of her feared the researcher would come, while another part dreaded that she wouldn’t.

Lin Feng had never told anyone about her visit to the Mermaid Homeland. At the time, it had felt miraculous, but talk of a mermaid larger than the small island would have branded her a lunatic. Eager to avoid trouble—and not all that close to Xu Tang besides—she hadn’t breathed a word.

Now that they were here, Lin Feng even hoped Zhao Shuqing would stay put there forever. Perhaps that way, their group would have no choice but to return empty-handed.

It would fulfill their group leader’s directive without harming the mermaid. Maybe that was for the best.

A evening breeze stirred the sea, sending ripples dancing across its shimmering surface. Lin Feng squinted into the distance. Suddenly, a head broke the surface far out on the horizon. In the moonlight, its shadow looked human—but it was too distant to make out clearly.

Lin Feng’s heart clenched. Somehow, she knew it was Zhao Shuqing.

In a panic, she splashed deeper into the water for a couple of steps and shouted toward it. “Zhao Shuqing!”

The silhouette floated motionless on the distant surface, impossible to tell if it faced her or not. It simply watched her in silence.

Lin Feng took two more steps, the seawater now lapping at her thighs. She glanced down, about to press on, when a voice called from behind her. “Lin Feng!”

She whipped around to see two members of the scientific expedition team sprinting over with handheld flashlights. They stood at the edge of the shore, yelling anxiously. “Don’t do anything rash! Get back here!”

One of them waded right in, grabbed Lin Feng’s wrist, and yanked her back to safety. Lin Feng instinctively glanced out to sea. The figure that had been floating on the surface—the mermaid—was gone.

Once back on shore, the two laid into her with a torrent of scolding.

“What were you thinking? If something’s got you down, you don’t run into the sea!”

Lin Feng touched her head sheepishly and apologized with genuine sincerity. “I’m sorry. I just spotted something and wanted to get a closer look. It wasn’t like that—you’ve got the wrong idea.”

The female researcher who had pulled her out frowned. “You walked out there on your own?”

“Huh?” Lin Feng shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean? If I didn’t walk, are you saying someone pushed me?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the two researchers’ expressions shifted uncomfortably. They exchanged a glance before one said to Lin Feng, “Let’s head back first. There’s something we need to tell you.”

Deeply confused, Lin Feng followed them anyway. When they reached the tents, she found everyone gathered outside, their faces pale and grim.

“What happened?” Lin Feng asked, baffled by the scene. She noticed they had crowded around her own tent. Xu Tang was crouched at the entrance. Hearing her voice, the group leader looked up, then stood.

Xu Tang peeled off her gloves, her tone grave. “Something’s happened.”

Lin Feng froze and peered inside the tent. A pair of feet protruded from within—her tentmate’s, if she wasn’t mistaken. A puddle of water stained the ground beneath her. Her toes were deathly pale, and strands of dark green seaweed clung between them.

Only then did Lin Feng realize someone on the team had died.

The deceased colleague was named He Yin. Though they were both in the Marine Group, Lin Feng hardly knew her. Their shared tent had been a random assignment, and the two had barely exchanged words before.

He Yin was drenched from head to toe, yet her face held a serene expression.

She lay sodden in the tent. A preliminary check suggested drowning—but the area around the tent had been full of people, and no one had seen her leave. How she died, and why she drowned there, presented a considerable mystery.

A death on the first day ashore meant Xu Tang, as group leader, bore responsibility. She immediately radioed the expedition team’s medics and summoned them over.

Lin Feng watched her tent swarm with people, a wave of panic rising in her chest.

“Too eerie.”

Nearby expedition team members huddled together, their faces ashen as they whispered. “She was fine—no one saw her go in the water. How does someone drown in a tent?”

“And only He Yin’s sleeping bag was wet. Everything else around it was bone-dry. That’s even creepier.”

“I hear mermaids can curse people. What if she sensed we were coming to catch her and decided to start killing us off?”

The mood chilled at once. Someone noticed Lin Feng sitting quietly nearby and called out to her.

“Lin Feng.” The team member asked, “Weren’t you out of the tent at the time? Did you see anything?”

Lin Feng hesitated. “I…”

“She wasn’t even here—what could she have seen?” Another nudged the speaker and turned to Lin Feng. “I heard they had to fish you out of the sea. What was that about? Why’d you run into the water out of nowhere?”

All eyes turned to her. Lin Feng floundered for an explanation, stammering, “I was just wandering to clear my head, and then… I thought I saw something. It wasn’t anything rash, I swear.”

“Saw what?”

“Hey, now that you mention it, I think I heard some weird noises too.”

“Yeah, yeah—wait, that jogs my memory. I swear I heard someone singing out at sea.”

“What? Singing in the sea?”

“We heard the singing and came out of our tents. That’s when we noticed something off with He Yin. We called for help and found out she’d already died.”

“You’re saying… the mermaid’s song killed her?”

“No way—that can’t be. How could a mermaid have the power to kill with a song?”

Even as they spoke, the atmosphere plunged to a freezing low. One team member went white as a sheet, clutching her neighbor tightly. “I can’t do this. I’m heading back to the ship. Whoever wants this assignment can have it—I’m requesting a transfer.”

That set off the others. No one had signed up to risk their lives. They reached a quick consensus and rushed to find Xu Tang.

Xu Tang’s brows furrowed at the news. The situation was dire: a team member dead right after landing. There was no way to explain it away.

With no other choice, they decided to pull back to the ship for now and discuss specifics in the morning.

Lin Feng returned the same way she had come, without even unpacking her bag. The crew on board had heard and came out to greet them, directing everyone back to their original cabins to rest. He Yin’s body ended up in the ship’s freezer, to be returned to her family later.

Lying once more in the hammock she had slept in for half a month, Lin Feng stared out at the moonlight beyond the rail, her mood inexplicably heavy.

Things weren’t unfolding as she had imagined.

Footsteps echoed constantly in the corridor. With such a major incident, Xu Tang surely couldn’t sleep. The others bustled about, clearing freezer space for He Yin.

Lin Feng suspected breakfast would be lavish the next morning—after all, anything pulled from the freezer wouldn’t keep for days.

With such scattered thoughts drifting through her mind, Lin Feng drifted off to sleep.

In her dream, she found herself back in that pitch-black cavern. But this time, she was alone.

“Zhao Shuqing?”

Lin Feng called out tentatively. The vast emptiness swallowed her voice, offering no echo in return.

Darkness enveloped everything. Lin Feng couldn’t even tell if her eyes were open or closed. She groped forward with her feet, inching ahead. She remembered that going straight would lead to the Ocean Blue Hole, where Zhao Shuqing had shown her the starry sky beneath the waves and taken her to the Mermaid Homeland.

Perhaps the silver-white mermaid waited there for her. She had to hurry.

Lin Feng called Zhao Shuqing’s name as she went, but only the sound of flowing water answered. When the path ended, she stopped and crouched, feeling the terminal puddle.

The water was frigid, making Lin Feng shiver.

She reached farther and touched something cool yet supple—like human skin. Ecstatic, Lin Feng felt the face, tracing scales and damp hair. “Zhao Shuqing, is that you? I knew you’d be waiting! Why’s it so dark here? Where are you? I can’t see a thing!”

The mermaid in the water made no sound. She seemed to tilt her head up slightly. Lin Feng felt the skull shift in her grasp, as if about to speak.

“Zhao Shuqing?”

Lin Feng cocked her head and leaned in close to her ear. “Do you have something to tell me?”

In the darkness, Lin Feng somehow glimpsed Zhao Shuqing’s chin, as if a dim lantern had flickered to life. The mermaid’s shoulders and below lay submerged. Her lips parted slowly, exhaling a few words—

“All of you must die.”