When Lin Feng saw Zhao Shuqing’s legs, she froze completely. She had never imagined that a mermaid could transform into legs—and now, dressed in clothes right in front of her, Zhao Shuqing looked exactly like an ordinary human.
In her mermaid form, Zhao Shuqing had been over two meters long, and even in human shape, she was tall—easily around five foot nine, by Lin Feng’s estimate. Her waist was slender, her legs long, and she filled out her clothes perfectly. Black hair cascaded down her back, and her cool gaze seemed like it had slain hundreds of fish.
“You…”
Lin Feng stared at her, struggling for what felt like ages to find her voice. “How did you turn into this?”
Zhao Shuqing blinked slowly before extending her hand toward Lin Feng.
The touch of her warm palm against Lin Feng’s cheek startled her. Lin Feng sat up and cradled the hand, stroking it in wonder. “It’s warm?”
Weren’t mermaids supposed to be cold and clammy?
Lin Feng examined Zhao Shuqing’s hand more closely. In mermaid form, her nails had been razor-sharp, the five fingers tipped with edges that weren’t long but cut like blades, and translucent webbing edged the spaces between them. Now, all of that was gone.
Aside from her piercing gaze, she was indistinguishable from any human.
“Oh my God, how is this possible?” Lin Feng couldn’t quite put her current feelings into words. Excitement surged through her—this had to be the greatest discovery of the century: mermaids could become human.
But that thrill came with dread. This “great discovery” also meant Zhao Shuqing could be captured at any moment.
Lin Feng didn’t want her caught, which meant she couldn’t keep her close, either.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Lin Feng said, looking up at her urgently. “You need to go—right now. We’re here to capture you. If anyone sees you, it’ll be a disaster.”
Zhao Shuqing’s face remained serene, her pitch-black pupils fixed unblinkingly on Lin Feng.
Lin Feng grew frantic at her inaction. She leaned forward and pleaded, “Zhao Shuqing, please leave. We’ll be pulling out in a few days. Just stay hidden and don’t get caught. After that… we really might never see each other again.”
Lin Feng spoke from the heart, but Zhao Shuqing showed no reaction. Her expression was as impassive as if she’d just gutted over a hundred fish back home, leaving Lin Feng baffled.
“You don’t understand what I’m saying, do you?” Lin Feng tilted her head and asked.
Zhao Shuqing blinked gently. Her lips didn’t move, but her voice reached Lin Feng all the same.
“I’m listening.”
Lin Feng’s hunch was confirmed. She’d wondered why she’d vomited blood for no reason. There was only one explanation: Zhao Shuqing had fed her own blood, planning to carry her into the sea.
With mermaid blood in her system, Lin Feng could hold her breath for a long time. Zhao Shuqing must have intended to swim freely underwater with her. But they’d run into the team from the ship midway; the others thought Zhao Shuqing was trying to harm her and had yanked Lin Feng back.
Lin Feng glanced at Zhao Shuqing’s wrist and reached out to touch it. “Where did you get hurt? Let me see.”
She knew mermaids healed fast, but it still ached to think about. The little nurse had said Lin Feng’s mouth had been full of blood—it must have been a deep gash, maybe even nicking a major artery. That would have been disastrous.
Lin Feng seized Zhao Shuqing’s wrist and inspected it. No wound on the left one. Nothing on the right, either.
“Strange.” Lin Feng looked up at her. “Did it heal that quickly?”
“No.” Zhao Shuqing’s tone was even as she lifted the hem of her white coat, revealing her bare body underneath. Lin Feng flushed and averted her eyes, but Zhao Shuqing continued, “It’s here.”
After a brief hesitation, Lin Feng turned back. Beneath the lifted fabric, a vicious wound marred Zhao Shuqing’s side.
It wasn’t a simple slash—it was a chunk of flesh gouged straight out.
Lin Feng fell silent.
She threw off the covers and leaped from the bed, reaching toward the injury but pulling back, afraid to cause pain.
“How is it this bad?” Lin Feng frowned, her heart aching. “Couldn’t you just drink a bit of blood? Why cut out such a huge piece?”
The tissue around the wound had turned white, the flesh peeled back to expose what lay beneath. Lin Feng suspected Zhao Shuqing had clawed it out with her own nails. Though it had stopped bleeding, the gash was horrifying.
“I…” Lin Feng stammered in a panic. “I’ll stitch it up for you. Just wait.”
The medical bay was well-stocked. It didn’t take Lin Feng long to gather needle, thread, and antiseptics. She’d learned basic suturing back in survival training, just in case.
She guided Zhao Shuqing to sit on the edge of the bed, dragged over a stool, and settled in to work on her waist.
“Try to bear it. I used a light dose of anesthetic.”
Lin Feng had skimped on the dosage to avoid harming mermaid physiology. It might sting a little.
Throughout the stitching, Zhao Shuqing watched her calmly, not even twitching an eyebrow. When Lin Feng finished with a knot, applied iodine, she declared the job done.
“Keep the wound dry for a while…” Lin Feng trailed off with a smack to her forehead. “Right, I forgot—you’re a mermaid.”
As if mermaids avoided water.
Still, the wound came first. Once she’d sterilized the tools and put them away, Lin Feng turned to Zhao Shuqing. “No one’s spotted you yet. Get out while you can—go as far as possible. Circle back after things cool down.”
Zhao Shuqing reached out at her words, grasping Lin Feng’s wrist lightly. She lowered her eyes. “Come with me.”
“I can’t.” Lin Feng shook her head. “It’s different for me. I have to return to human society. So much has happened on the ship these past days. Once the seven-day search window closes, we’re leaving.”
But Zhao Shuqing surprised her. “What if people keep disappearing? Could you stay then?”
Lin Feng jerked her head up. “What… what do you mean by that?”
Zhao Shuqing fell silent, but her eyes said it all—exactly what Lin Feng feared.
“You caused the disappearances on the ship?” Lin Feng stared in shock. “He Yin… the one who died in the tent… that was you? You killed them?”
Zhao Shuqing’s face stayed placid. She gazed at Lin Feng coolly. “They wanted to catch me. So what if I killed them?”
Lin Feng’s eyes widened as Zhao Shuqing went on. “If they caught me, they’d experiment on me, keep me in some tiny human tank for life. You came looking for me because you didn’t want me caught, right?”
Zhao Shuqing rose and stepped closer, bending down to meet her eyes. “Kill them all, and no one can take me for experiments. Isn’t that good?”
“No, it’s not…” Lin Feng wanted to explain but didn’t know where to start.
Mermaids were wild creatures, after all. They lacked human morals, no eye-for-an-eye justice. To Zhao Shuqing, anyone threatening her simply needed killing.
No guilt at all.
Lin Feng opened her mouth. “If you kill them, humans will retaliate. Push us too far, and you won’t come out of it unscathed.”
“No problem.” Zhao Shuqing’s lips curved faintly in a smile. “You humans can’t swim. As long as I stay in the water, I’ll be fine.”
“That’s not true. Humans may not swim well, but…” Lin Feng started to explain underwater weapons when Zhao Shuqing whipped her head toward the medical bay door, her gaze darkening.
Lin Feng clamped her mouth shut. Sure enough, faint footsteps echoed seconds later.
Someone was coming.
Lin Feng sprang up and shoved Zhao Shuqing toward cover, but the cabin’s stern held no windows—nowhere for her to exit. She scanned the room and pushed Zhao Shuqing toward a cabinet. Ignoring her puzzled look, Lin Feng bundled her inside.
“Don’t make a sound,” Lin Feng whispered urgently.
Zhao Shuqing stared blankly as Lin Feng shut the wardrobe door on her. She glanced up at the hanging clothes: white coats, skirts, shorts, short-sleeved shirts. It was a medic’s personal locker.
She picked up a short-sleeved top and locked eyes with SpongeBob on the print.
Lin Feng had just scrambled back into bed when the door creaked open. She looked up to meet Xu Tang’s gaze.
Thump—
Her heart pounded, but Lin Feng forced a smile. “Senior Sister.”
Xu Tang swept her eyes over the medical bay and stepped inside. “Why aren’t you resting this late?”
“Slept too much during the day. Not tired now.” Lin Feng offered the excuse, then turned the question back. “What about you, Senior Sister? Up so late?”
“Mm.” Xu Tang steadied herself on a nearby chair and peered under the table. “Things have been unsafe lately. Routine check. Did you see anyone strange come in just now?”
“Strange? Like who?”
“A crew member spotted an unfamiliar woman on board, wearing a white coat. She tampered with the surveillance system. No idea where she is now.” Xu Tang eyed her. “Seen anyone like that?”
Lin Feng marveled inwardly. Zhao Shuqing seemed clueless, yet she’d been smart enough to disable the cameras first.
“Nope.” Lin Feng shook her head. “I’ve been sleeping or just zoning out since I woke. No one came to the medical bay.”
Xu Tang paused, then nodded slightly. “Alright, rest up then. I—”
Before she could finish, the ship rocked gently. A rustle came from the cabinet hiding Zhao Shuqing. Xu Tang’s eyes snapped toward it, landing on a corner of white fabric poking out.
A white coat hem.
Lin Feng’s pupils contracted. In her haste, she hadn’t checked if all the coat was tucked in. Now Xu Tang had seen it and strode over.
“Senior Sister!”
Lin Feng called out, but Xu Tang moved faster. With a click, she yanked open the cabinet door. It slammed against the wall with a bang.
Lin Feng’s heart stopped.
Xu Tang frowned at the jumble of clothes and the bundled white coat inside. Her face darkened.
Lin Feng stared at the empty wardrobe and inexplicably breathed a sigh of relief.
