Seeing Xu Tang, Lin Feng instinctively took two steps back.
She gazed at the woman before her with a panicked expression, staring at her tensely.
In stark contrast to Lin Feng’s unease, Xu Tang moved with casual ease, just as she always did. She strolled over, her eyes scanning Lin Feng’s feet, face, and clothes.
Spotting the familiar outfit, Xu Tang raised an eyebrow slightly. “Is that Shuqing’s clothes you’re wearing?”
Lin Feng clutched the cuffs of her sleeves tightly and remained silent.
“What’s wrong? After spending so much time with Shuqing, you still can’t understand human speech?” Xu Tang tilted her head, looking at her with amusement. But then she suddenly switched to a different tone. “You’re not unfamiliar with the mermaid language, though, are you?”
Lin Feng’s eyes widened as she stared at her in stunned silence.
Xu Tang spoke to her in the familiar mermaid language. “I didn’t pull you up from the ocean depths so you could fall in love with Zhao Shuqing. Have you forgotten your mission? Do you really want to expose yourself to humans like this?”
Lin Feng bit her lip and replied in the mermaid language. “I only wanted to tell Zhao Shuqing.”
Xu Tang said, “If you tell her, it’s as good as letting the whole world know that mermaids can turn into humans once they come ashore.”
Lin Feng countered, “But we can turn into humans anyway. If it weren’t for our tails being cut…”
Lin Feng seemed to remember something. Her delicate brows furrowed tightly as she gripped her sleeve.
“Looks like you still remember your mission on land.” Xu Tang stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning down to look at her. “You’re the bait, a ploy to deceive humans. You wouldn’t want the mermaids’ secrets revealed, would you?”
Lin Feng lifted her head to meet Xu Tang’s gaze, so close now. “Why does it have to be me?”
Xu Tang’s lips curved into a gentle smile. She leaned in close to Lin Feng’s ear and whispered, “Because you once saved her.”
Lin Feng shuddered and closed her eyes.
“Forget about it.” Xu Tang looked at her with pity. “A mermaid and a human can never be together.”
Zhao Shuqing was in her dormitory, working on her paper under the white glow of her desk lamp. It was already one o’clock in the morning.
She stretched lazily, leaning back in her chair to let her mind go blank for a moment.
The paper was nearly finished. She had just filled in the final data and emailed it to Professor Shen. But it was too late to call, so she sent a message to Shen Qingming instead, asking him to review it in the morning.
The paper that had tormented her for over a month was finally done. If all went well, it would be published soon, serving as a key reference for experts studying mermaid data. Everyone would remember that mermaid’s name—Lin Feng.
Zhao Shuqing picked up her coffee and stood to stretch her limbs. From the balcony, she noticed that rain had started falling outside at some point.
It wasn’t a heavy rain, just a light drizzle that formed a misty veil, washing away the day’s stifling heat and leaving the air feeling refreshingly comfortable.
Zhao Shuqing leaned on the balcony railing, taking in the midnight cityscape. Aside from a few scattered lights, the entire city lay shrouded in darkness.
Time to sleep, she thought.
After work, she had stopped by the supermarket and bought a bunch of snacks to bring to Lin Feng at the oceanarium tomorrow morning. Lin Feng was like a child that way—loving snacks and sweets. But with their recent spat, no one else had dared to give her any, so she hadn’t had treats in about a week.
Imagining Lin Feng eyeing the snacks tomorrow, wanting them but still sulking at her, brought a smile to Zhao Shuqing’s face.
She’d have to coax her properly tomorrow. A fish like her couldn’t keep getting upset all the time.
If she got mad again, maybe she’d stop calling her Mermaid Miss and start calling her Pufferfish Miss instead.
Zhao Shuqing chuckled at the thought.
Just as she returned to her room to wash up and go to bed, her phone on the table rang suddenly.
Who would call in the middle of the night?
A flicker of unease stirred in Zhao Shuqing’s chest. She picked up the phone and glanced at the screen. Sure enough, it was a colleague from the oceanarium.
“What’s going on?” Zhao Shuqing asked, frowning. “Is it Lin Feng again?”
“Y-Yes,” came the panicked voice on the other end, amid a cacophony of background noise. “The mermaid’s hurt, Dr. Zhao. Come quick!”
Zhao Shuqing’s heart sank. She hung up, bolted from her dormitory, and dashed straight into the misty rain toward the oceanarium.
The oceanarium was ablaze with lights when she arrived, sending her heart into turmoil. When she pushed through to the keeper area, a crowd had already gathered outside Lin Feng’s gate—night patrol security guards and the veterinarian who had been roused from bed.
Zhao Shuqing shoved her way through the crowd and into the enclosure. There, she saw seawater stained crimson and a shattered gate.
The veterinarian pulled Lin Feng from the water. The once vibrant mermaid now lay pale and lifeless on the ground, her breathing shallow. Her blue tail, devoid of vitality, dangled over the edge into the shore, soaked in blood.
“W-What happened?” Zhao Shuqing finally found her voice. She stared in panic at the bloodied Lin Feng, demanding in shock and fury, “What the hell is this?”
The night-shift security guard stepped forward. “We found the mermaid lying in the pool during patrol, covered in blood.”
After examining her, the veterinarian looked up at Zhao Shuqing. “These are bite marks. She must have just fought something and gotten injured.” He pointed to Lin Feng’s tail. “The wounds are concentrated on the tail. I’m afraid it’s ruined.”
Zhao Shuqing felt a wave of dizziness. She had been planning to make up with Lin Feng tomorrow, even buying a pile of snacks to sweeten the deal. She never imagined something like this.
The massive tail had lost its color from blood loss, and the tissue around the tailfin was a bloody mess of wounds, some so deep they exposed bone.
How much pain was she in?
How much pain was her Mermaid Miss enduring?
Seething with rage, Zhao Shuqing whirled on the on-duty staff. “How do you people even do your jobs? You can’t even watch one mermaid properly?”
The security guards wanted to argue that she was a fish, not a person, but Zhao Shuqing’s face had darkened so menacingly that they all fell silent. Knowing the situation was dire, the veterinarian called for a stretcher to rush Lin Feng to the medical room.
Fortunately, the oceanarium was well-equipped, with a proper medical facility. Zhao Shuqing helped the veterinarian transfer Lin Feng to the operating room. With no time to find assistants in the dead of night, and Zhao Shuqing having some medical knowledge, she assisted on the table.
Seeing Lin Feng’s tail torn and mangled—severed tailbones, vast patches of damaged scales—left her trembling with fury.
The surgery dragged on until morning, with two veterinarians rotating in. Zhao Shuqing, the “unofficial” assistant, was eventually asked to step down and wait anxiously outside.
It wasn’t until eleven in the morning that Lin Feng’s surgery finally ended.
Looking at Lin Feng being wheeled into the recovery room, Zhao Shuqing’s brows knitted tightly.
“After investigation, we believe the orca’s enclosure wasn’t secured last night. Given its prior grudge with the mermaid, it must have attacked her,” the oceanarium director explained, pulling Zhao Shuqing aside at the doorway. “When we found the orca, it was huddled under a rock. The bite marks match its teeth.”
“An orca?” Zhao Shuqing frowned. “An orca could hurt her?”
The director gave a wry smile but stuck to her conclusion. “All signs point to the orca. Its keeper has been disciplined for negligence. Please don’t be too upset, Dr. Zhao. We’ve isolated it now—it won’t happen again.”
Zhao Shuqing found it suspicious. Who was Lin Feng? She’d beaten an orca black and blue on her first day in the water. How could it suddenly maul her like this?
It didn’t add up.
“What about the surveillance footage?” Zhao Shuqing demanded. “I want to see last night’s tapes.”
“The cameras all malfunctioned due to the weather.”
“What?”
Fuming, Zhao Shuqing snapped, “Are you trying to dodge responsibility?”
Though kept at the oceanarium, Lin Feng belonged to the nation, not them.
The director looked exasperated and explained urgently, “It’s true. That’s what our investigation shows, and the cameras really are out.”
Zhao Shuqing’s head throbbed with anger. She told the director, “I don’t accept this. If you can’t uncover the truth, Lin Feng is never coming back here.”
She’d keep her in her own bathtub first.
The director tried to say more, but Zhao Shuqing shooed her out.
In the recovery room, a nurse was examining Lin Feng. The oceanarium beds were custom-made; they had to remove the footboard and extend one to accommodate her injured tail.
Zhao Shuqing frowned at the bandaged tailfin.
Why the tail again?
Zhao Shuqing remembered when they first fished her up—Lin Feng’s tail had been badly injured. It had taken ages for that flesh to heal properly. And now, just as it had, her tail was hurt again.
This time, the wounds were deep and numerous, nearly severing the tailfin.
Fish did bite tails in fights, but orcas and mermaids differed in size. Zhao Shuqing couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about those injuries.
And that dumb orca—could it even beat Lin Feng? Let alone break out of its cage to pick a fight. She didn’t buy a word of it.
The nurse hooked Lin Feng up to an IV. Seeing Zhao Shuqing’s stormy expression, she grew nervous—they were treating a mermaid for the first time, proceeding cautiously to avoid mishaps. With Zhao Shuqing glaring, the nurse murmured an excuse and slipped out with her tray.
Once the nurse left, only Zhao Shuqing and Lin Feng remained in the room.
Lin Feng had been unconscious since the injury. Her once rosy, fair face was deathly pale now, her hair dull and limp. Lying there on the bed, she looked utterly pitiful.
Zhao Shuqing sat beside her and gently took Lin Feng’s hand.
It felt ice-cold, cooler than her usual temperature.
Pain twisted in Zhao Shuqing’s chest. Recalling the morning’s horror sent fresh panic through her. She glanced around the room.
Calling it a recovery room was generous—it was just a larger space with a faint fishy smell. Nearby tanks held other ailing fish on oxygen, staring over with lifeless eyes.
“What a lousy setup,” Zhao Shuqing muttered under her breath, frowning.
