Chapter 34

The kiss from Lin Feng left Zhao Shuqing utterly stunned. She clapped her hands over her face and shot to her feet, staring at Lin Feng in disbelief. Without thinking, she backed away several steps.

Lin Feng sat on the bed, looking at her in confusion. “Zhao Shuqing?”

Zhao Shuqing’s face flushed beet red. She clutched her cheek and stammered at Lin Feng, “Why’d you go and kiss me like that?”

Lin Feng gazed at her blankly.

During this time, Lin Feng hadn’t just been getting into fights around the oceanarium—she’d also occasionally swim over to the glass to watch the humans.

Word of Lin Feng’s presence at the oceanarium had spread like wildfire. Crowds came from far and wide to catch a glimpse of the world’s first mermaid. Some even kissed in front of her, claiming it brought the mermaid’s blessing for eternal love.

Lin Feng, of course, knew nothing of these “rumors.” But she often saw men and women kissing right in front of her. Later, she’d heard from the other sea creatures that humans were kissing creatures—happy ones kissed, and sad ones did too.

Kissing on the mouth was for mates. Kissing on the cheek or forehead was for friends and family.

Lin Feng had remembered that. So when she’d seen Zhao Shuqing looking unhappy today, she’d swum over and planted one on her cheek to cheer her up.

But the facts proved otherwise—Zhao Shuqing clearly didn’t like being kissed by Lin Feng.

Zhao Shuqing kept her hands over her face, her eyes turning red as she stared at Lin Feng. After a long moment, she gritted her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, and asked, “Who taught you to do that?”

Lin Feng averted her gaze guiltily.

Seeing she wouldn’t get an answer, Zhao Shuqing stopped asking. Instead, she began gathering their things, planning to take Lin Feng back and lock her down properly.

“Zhao Shuqing…” As Zhao Shuqing scooped her up, Lin Feng still looked guilty. She nestled against Zhao Shuqing’s shoulder and whispered, “Are you mad?”

Zhao Shuqing hoisted her onto her back but said nothing, even though she was fuming.

She shut the dormitory door behind them, then carried Lin Feng downstairs. Worried passersby might notice something off, she’d draped a long trench coat over Lin Feng and added a knee-length skirt to hide her tail. From a distance, it just looked like Zhao Shuqing was giving a normal person a piggyback ride.

Lin Feng knew she’d done something wrong—even if she wasn’t sure exactly what. Since Zhao Shuqing was angry, it had to be her fault. She stayed quiet the whole way, burrowed against Zhao Shuqing’s back without a peep.

Zhao Shuqing was distracted too. As she stroked Lin Feng’s cool tail, her mind kept replaying the moment Lin Feng had called her “wife.”

It felt weird.

But it also made her heart race.

Zhao Shuqing was sure she must be sick. Why else would her heart flutter for a mermaid?

Back at the oceanarium, everyone had been waiting anxiously. When they saw Zhao Shuqing return with Lin Feng on her back, they rushed forward. Zhao Shuqing’s face darkened as she deposited Lin Feng behind the gate and locked her in herself.

“It was my mistake not securing the door last night,” Zhao Shuqing said gravely. “Punish me however you see fit—even docking my pay is fine.”

Her colleagues exchanged glances. Seeing her foul mood, they assumed she was truly furious and murmured, “The mermaid didn’t go anywhere. Just be more careful next time—no need for a fine.”

But Zhao Shuqing insisted, “I deserve to be punished, or I’ll slip up again. Dock this month’s bonus, and I’ll write a self-criticism to post on the office bulletin board. I promise to be more vigilant from now on.”

With that, she stormed off with a scowl. No one dared say a word—not even sure what had her so worked up.

Lin Feng had seen it all. She sat by the pool’s edge like a schoolkid in trouble, fiddling miserably with the trench coat Zhao Shuqing had dressed her in.

She really had made her mad…

Ever since Lin Feng’s escape attempt, the oceanarium had instituted night patrols.

Lin Feng, as the prime suspect, got special attention—every patrol made a point to check her enclosure and confirm she was still in the pool.

Lin Feng grew more and more listless. She couldn’t play with the other sea creatures, and Zhao Shuqing was mad and ignoring her. Cooped up in that tiny space day after day, she was utterly miserable.

Zhao Shuqing hardly visited anymore, coming only morning and night to apply medicine. Each time, Lin Feng would obediently perch on the edge, her eyes fixed intently on Zhao Shuqing as she softly called her name.

But Zhao Shuqing always kept a straight face, refusing to meet her gaze. She’d grab the tail, smear on the ointment, and leave.

Without a single comforting word.

Today was no different. Lin Feng felt heartbroken, slumping by the pool and letting tears plop into the water one after another. She looked utterly dejected.

“Shuqing, Lin Feng knows she’s wrong now. Don’t keep being so harsh on her.”

Wen Xiaoying, a fellow keeper, couldn’t bear seeing Lin Feng so sad. She trailed after Zhao Shuqing and quietly pleaded Lin Feng’s case. Zhao Shuqing said nothing, heading straight to the office and shutting the door behind her.

Wen Xiaoying had been a keeper for five years. She loved the job—marine life was so much cleaner than lions, tigers, or elephants. Caring for them wasn’t exhausting, the environment was great, and she was one of the oceanarium’s veteran staff. Now she helped Zhao Shuqing out, especially with Lin Feng.

Zhao Shuqing sank into her chair and asked, “How many days has Lin Feng been locked up?”

Wen Xiaoying thought for a moment. “Today’s the seventh.”

Seven days already?

Zhao Shuqing realized she really hadn’t spoken to Lin Feng in ages. No wonder she looked so down.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, Zhao Shuqing flipped through the desk calendar. “That long?”

Wen Xiaoying nodded. “Yeah. She’s barely eaten the last couple days, and her spirits are low. You can’t keep ignoring her—she’ll get depressed.”

Zhao Shuqing fell silent for a beat, then pressed her lips together. “Who told her to keep fighting… and busting out?”

The rosy fish incident had been cleared up via security footage—it wasn’t Lin Feng’s fault. The guilty giant octopus was now in confinement too. They’d informed Zhao Shuqing, and the rosy fish’s keeper had apologized. But she hadn’t told Lin Feng yet.

Tomorrow, then.

Tomorrow she’d bring something tasty and explain everything.

Truth be told, Zhao Shuqing felt sorry for Lin Feng. The mermaid only had her now. But… Zhao Shuqing had to make her understand: she couldn’t call her “wife.” She couldn’t kiss her.

They were different species.

The thought gave Zhao Shuqing a headache. Helplessly, she told Wen Xiaoying, “She’ll be out tomorrow. I’ll have a good talk with her then.”

Wen Xiaoying beamed. “Great! Lin Feng will be thrilled.”

Zhao Shuqing’s lips quirked as she thought of those beautiful eyes. Her own heart lifted too.

“Alright, it’s quitting time. Head home,” Zhao Shuqing said to Wen Xiaoying. “See you tomorrow.”

Wen Xiaoying packed up and left. Zhao Shuqing didn’t linger long either. Before going, she peeked at Lin Feng, who lay motionless by the pool. Her heart ached, but she turned and walked away.

Tomorrow. Just hold out until tomorrow.

Then they could make up.

Meanwhile, Lin Feng slumped by the pool, her long tail trailing in the water. She closed her eyes, her lashes trembling faintly. After a long while, she slowly opened them.

Her blue tail shuddered uncontrollably. Lin Feng let out a low keen and gasped for air by the pool’s edge, like a fish out of water.

The state dragged on for over two hours. Lin Feng groaned uncomfortably the whole time. Her body temperature rose steadily—from the low twenties Celsius to thirty-six degrees. The water, once comfortable, now felt icy, but it was summer, so it wasn’t unbearable.

She pushed herself up and sat on the pool’s edge, staring at her tail.

High above the pool loomed a four- or five-meter skylight with translucent glass panels. Moonlight pierced the inky clouds and spilled into the modest room.

Lin Feng’s chest heaved—she was clearly undergoing some internal change, though it wasn’t agonizing. Her eyes, misted with water, locked onto her tail as it shimmered with an imperceptible silver glow.

The wound on her tailfin had fully healed after half a month’s careful treatment. Today, even the final scale had grown in.

The lush, gorgeous tail thrashed unnaturally in the water. Lin Feng whimpered softly. Under the moonlight, that brilliant blue tail—like a starry river—began to contract, ultimately transforming into a pair of sleek, pale human legs.

Human legs.

It was the first time Lin Feng had seen her own legs. She blinked, steadying her breath as she reached out to touch them.

Legs. Healthy legs.

The left ankle bore a clear scar, but these were unmistakably human legs.

Perfect.

Lin Feng tried to stand. She wasn’t as tall without the tail’s elevation, but it made her thrilled.

She was finally like Zhao Shuqing.

Whatever Zhao Shuqing had, she had now too. Whatever Zhao Shuqing lacked, so did she.

That human woman shouldn’t be mad anymore, right?

Elated, Lin Feng kicked her legs experimentally and took a lap around the pool. Her movements were stiff, but she figured with practice, she’d walk like anyone else.

“Zhao Shuqing.”

Lin Feng murmured the name, eager for Zhao Shuqing to see her like this. She turned to leave—but paused, glancing at her bare body. Humans wore clothes. Going out naked would cause trouble.

And Zhao Shuqing hated when she caused trouble.

Where were those clothes from last time?

Lin Feng rummaged through the nearby storage cabinet. The workroom adjoined the poolside. Last time they’d returned, Zhao Shuqing had stripped her and tossed her in; the clothes were stuffed haphazardly into the cabinet and untouched since.

The cabinet wasn’t crowded. Lin Feng quickly found the skirt and trench coat, struggling for a good half hour before getting them on.

The gate was locked, but Lin Feng wasn’t helpless. One solid punch shattered the lock. She strolled out easily.

Humming a little tune, she padded barefoot down the moonlit corridor, wondering if Zhao Shuqing would be delighted—or shocked—by her new look.

Lin Feng was feeling smug, ready to head out, when a familiar figure appeared at the corridor’s end.

Xu Tang stepped forward slowly. She glanced sideways at Lin Feng—and at the naked feet planted on the floor.

Those feet were tender and delicate, the toes glowing faintly pink in the moonlight. Clearly brand-new.

Lin Feng’s eyes widened. She instinctively stepped back.

Xu Tang advanced a step, stopping ten meters away. Her gaze was calm, tinged with pity.

“Your tail wound has healed?” Xu Tang said, looking at her. “Planning to go find Zhao Shuqing on those fresh new legs of yours?”