Gu Yao had prepared a map and two long dresses for Lin Feng. She hailed a cab and took the weakened girl to the seaside.
In the car, Gu Yao didn’t dare sit in the back seat with her. Instead, she rode up front with the driver, her gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. She only stole occasional glances at Lin Feng through the rearview mirror.
Lin Feng slumped against the back seat, the waterproof backpack resting beside her. Her face was ghostly pale, and ever since climbing into the car, she had been clutching her lower abdomen, looking utterly miserable.
What on earth had happened to her? Why had she bolted from the oceanarium all of a sudden?
Was she hurt? And how had those legs come about?
Gu Yao’s mind buzzed with a hundred questions, but her neck still throbbed with pain. She didn’t dare ask. Instead, she frantically dialed Zhao Shuqing’s number over and over. That damn Zhao bitch wouldn’t pick up—like she was dead to the world. Gu Yao cursed her silently a thousand times.
The driver pulled up at the nearest beach, pocketed his fare, and drove off.
Gu Yao finally threw in the towel. She stowed her phone and glanced at Lin Feng, who stood just a few meters away. The sea breeze toyed with her light-colored tresses. She wore Gu Yao’s light blue dress.
She had to admit it—Lin Feng was stunning.
Beautiful as a mermaid, yes, but now in human form? Even more breathtaking.
Her hair remained that pale shade, her skin so luminous it practically glowed. Barefoot on the concrete path, her skirt hem fluttering in the breeze, she looked like a figure stepped straight from a painting. Already, people along the roadside had stopped to gawk, murmuring if some A-list celebrity was out for a location scout.
Heart still pounding from earlier, Gu Yao didn’t dare lay a hand on her. “Too crowded here,” she said cautiously. “Let’s find somewhere quieter.”
Lin Feng nodded and followed along, clutching the backpack to her chest.
The two walked one behind the other until they reached a deserted stretch of old coastline. Jagged rocks littered the area—no concrete path extended this far, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. Perfect for slipping into the sea.
“Lin Feng.” Gu Yao glanced back at her. “This spot work for you?”
Lin Feng looked up, scanning the area, and gave a slight nod.
Gu Yao fretted, her brows knitting together. “You’re really going after Zhao Shuqing? What if something happens to you out there in the ocean?”
“It won’t,” Lin Feng replied. “No one can hurt me in the sea.”
Gu Yao fell silent. Talk about confidence.
She watched Lin Feng step toward the rocks and hesitated before calling out, “Take the South China Sea first, then cut through the Indian Ocean. Suez Canal to the Mediterranean—got that route straight? If you get lost, ask the dolphins. Whales if you have to. Worst case, turn back. I’ll phone Zhao Shuqing.”
Lin Feng turned for a final look and waved to show she’d heard.
Still uneasy, Gu Yao snapped a photo of her retreating silhouette and fired it off to the dead-to-the-world Zhao Shuqing.
Her message read: 【Your wife crossed oceans to find you】
Once Lin Feng had plunged into the water, Gu Yao lingered for a moment before calling a cab back. The round trip had cost her nearly a thousand yuan in fares. Grinding her teeth, she vowed to make Zhao Shuqing reimburse her the second she replied.
By the time Gu Yao arrived at the laboratory, it was nearly noon.
She stepped inside to find her colleagues huddled together, whispering furtively. They fell silent the instant she appeared.
Gu Yao swept her gaze over their faces. She knew full well they couldn’t stand her right now and had no interest in trading barbs. She set down her things and headed for the lab, only to be stopped by a group member lurking by the door.
“Gu Yao.” The woman fixed her with a stare. “Group Leader Xu wants you to report to her as soon as you get in.”
Gu Yao blinked. “Group Leader Xu? Not Group Leader Liu?”
“No,” the woman replied. “Group Leader Xu—Xu Tang—said to head straight to her office.”
Gu Yao’s heart sank like a stone.
No one in the lab knew about her history with Xu Tang. They’d broken up ages ago, and Xu had never once come looking for her since. What was this about now?
Puzzled as she was, Gu Yao headed off to find out what Xu wanted.
If it was about getting back together… would she say yes?
Gu Yao mulled it over the whole way there. She finally reached Xu Tang’s office door and dithered for a good long minute before knocking.
“Come in.”
Xu Tang’s voice was steady as ever, sending a pleasant shiver through Gu Yao’s ears. She paused, then pushed the door open.
The office light was as dim as always. Xu Tang sat before her computer, the bluish glow from the screen casting her face in ghastly shadows, like some specter. Tension coiled in Gu Yao’s gut as she hovered in the doorway. Feigning nonchalance, she asked, “Want me to flip on the light?”
Xu Tang didn’t answer. She simply lifted her head and met Gu Yao’s eyes.
Those pitch-black depths held her like a spell. Gu Yao’s legs turned to jelly, her pulse racing wildly.
God, she really did love women like Xu Tang…
“Were you thinking…”
“Did you take Lin Feng?”
Gu Yao had just opened her mouth to ask about reconciliation when Xu Tang’s icy tone cut her off—asking about Lin Feng, of all things. She stared blankly for a beat. “What?”
Xu Tang rose from her chair and closed the distance, looming over her with narrowed eyes. “The surveillance footage shows Lin Feng leaving the lab for the dormitory. Then you whisked her away. Where did you take her?”
It hit Gu Yao all at once. This wasn’t about patching things up—it was an interrogation.
Suddenly, everything clicked. Lin Feng showing up at Zhao Shuqing’s out of nowhere. Her desperate urge to track down Zhao. It was all Xu Tang’s doing.
“I was about to ask you the same,” Gu Yao shot back, frowning. “What did you do to her? Did you run experiments on Lin Feng?”
“So what if I did?” Xu Tang replied heartlessly. “She’s a research subject, plain and simple. Bringing her back wasn’t to turn her into some pet at the oceanarium to draw crowds—yesterday or today, she was getting experimented on either way.”
“You—” Gu Yao reeled from the words. She never imagined Xu Tang could dismiss a thinking, speaking being so casually, like prepping a chicken for the pot.
Even if Lin Feng wasn’t human, she had thoughts, a life of her own. Didn’t that count for basic rights?
Xu Tang eyed Gu Yao’s flushed, furious cheeks, and for some reason, her mood lifted. She reached out and brushed a thumb along Gu Yao’s face. Gu Yao recoiled in disgust, shooting her a resentful glare.
“What experiments did you do? Why’d she grow legs? Was that your fault?”
Gu Yao fired off the questions, desperate for answers.
But Xu Tang schooled her features back to calm and cherry-picked one. “The legs weren’t from any experiment. She could always do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“In other words,” Xu Tang murmured, her finger tracing Gu Yao’s cheek as she leaned in close, “Lin Feng fooled you. Fooled all of us.”
Gu Yao’s eyes flew wide in disbelief.
Xu Tang spoke softly. “She hid the truth the whole time. We only found out when we were implanting the egg embryo. That’s when she grew legs, injured two of our technicians, and bolted. Now tell me—where did you take her?”
“I…” Gu Yao’s head spun. What was even happening? What did Xu Tang mean?
Lin Feng had always been able to sprout legs? She’d deceived Zhao Shuqing, deceived Gu Yao herself—everyone?
After the jig was up, she’d hurt people and fled, only for Gu Yao to help her escape…
“No, that’s not it,” Gu Yao protested, brow furrowed. “Even if she lied, there had to be a reason. Why come back at all? Why go find Zhao Shuqing?”
Xu Tang arched a brow. “So she did go to Zhao Shuqing.”
Gu Yao cursed her slip, but the ocean was vast. Lin Feng was a fish in it—even if Xu Tang mobilized now, it was too late. She might already be in the South China Sea.
Xu Tang stepped back, fished her phone from her pocket, and issued some terse orders. Then she turned to Gu Yao.
Gu Yao leaned against the door, blinking innocently. “Group Leader Xu, if that’s all, I’ll head back.”
She reached for the handle, but hands shot past her ears. With a sharp bang, they slammed the door—barely cracked open—shut again. Xu Tang loomed behind her, voice low. “Until this is sorted, you’re not going anywhere.”
Gu Yao whipped around in shock to find Xu Tang’s hand slipping inside her clothes, retrieving the phone Gu Yao had stashed there.
“You…”
“From here on,” Xu Tang said, holding up the phone, “no contacting anyone.”
“Including Zhao Shuqing.”
Zhao Shuqing hadn’t meant to ignore the calls. The previous afternoon, she’d gotten sudden notice of a trip to a fully sealed-off site. When she video-called Lin Feng, it was already eleven or twelve at night back home. Lin Feng usually picked up before bed, but this schedule was rushed. Seeing no answer, Zhao left a message, powered off, and joined the group.
They were there to observe deep-sea creatures that only emerged at night, glowing to lure in prey fish. Zhao was familiar with them and volunteered as the nighttime guide.
After a full night of activity, she dragged back to the hotel at local dawn. Too wiped to call Lin Feng, she crashed. When she woke, it was six in the morning.
She’d forgotten to draw the curtains. Through the floor-to-ceiling window stretched a gorgeous coastline, the orange sun cresting the horizon. In that moment, Zhao Shuqing got why people loved to travel.
Seeing beauty in unfamiliar places really did sear it into your memory forever.
She stretched lazily. Nothing major today—just an eight a.m. seminar in the hotel conference room, and the itinerary wrapped.
Zhao rolled over and grabbed the phone from the pillow. She pressed the button twice; nothing. Right—she’d forgotten to turn it on yesterday.
No calls last night or this morning. Her little fish better not be fretting.
Zhao powered it up in a hurry. Notifications flooded in: all sorts of alerts, plus over thirty missed calls from Gu Yao. Her stomach dropped with a sense of dread.
