RAM Chapter 19

Hai San’er clung to Lu Xie, crying pitifully, refusing to let go. His wails nearly deafened Lu Xie, who glanced at the bag of food he had brought back from the street in desperation.

“Stop crying, stop crying. I bought some food earlier. Try it.”

Curiosity got the better of the naïve merman. Still sniffling, Hai San’er turned to look at the bag on the floor. He asked hesitantly, “Is it better than the pumpkin taro bun?”

That pumpkin taro bun was something Lu Xie had found unpalatable and left behind. Unexpectedly, the merman, unaccustomed to delicacies, had taken a liking to it.

Lu Xie grabbed the snacks from the bag and stuffed them into Hai San’er’s arms, finally freeing himself from the embrace. “It’s buttered toast crisps.”

Lu Xie wasn’t sure if it was better than the pumpkin taro bun, but the sweet and rich flavor would undoubtedly suit Hai San’er’s taste.

Holding the bag of toast crisps, Hai San’er insisted on sitting next to Lu Xie. He had already mastered the skill of tearing open packaging and didn’t need Lu Xie’s help. As predicted, the buttered toast crisps were far superior to the pumpkin taro bun—fragrant, sweet, and delightfully crunchy.

With food in hand, Hai San’er finally felt a little more at ease. Turning his back to Lu Xie, he took a bite while counting how many pieces were left in the bag. Still a bit shaken, he murmured, “I really thought I was going to die.”

Lu Xie adjusted himself on the recliner to give Hai San’er more space. The merman was large, and without a bit of room, he would have ended up sitting on the floor.

“I was just thinking, I finally grew legs and came ashore. I was so close to becoming human. If I died now, it’d be too unlucky,” Hai San’er said, his voice quivering with genuine emotion. It wasn’t death he feared—it was the thought of being separated from Lu Xie.

Hai San’er’s sincerity left Lu Xie at a loss for words. Watching his serious expression, Lu Xie felt an unexpected pang of guilt, though Hai San’er didn’t seem to blame him at all.

“Becoming human isn’t that easy,” Lu Xie said softly, his deep voice tinged with contemplation as he observed Hai San’er munching on the snacks. His cheeks were puffed out like a squirrel’s.

Halfway through his snack, Hai San’er turned to him, puzzled. “Is becoming human really that hard?”

Being an animal is simpler. Everything is about survival. But humans… once they start thinking, it leads to greed, conflict, and endless destruction. Survival alone isn’t enough to satisfy them.

But Lu Xie decided it wasn’t necessary to tell Hai San’er all that. He didn’t want to tarnish his innocence. “Being human isn’t just about eating snacks all day.”

Hai San’er, clutching his snacks, looked devastated. “Humans can’t eat snacks all day?” He quickly knelt on the recliner, earnestly asking, “Besides wearing clothes, brushing teeth before bed, and closing my eyes to sleep, what else do humans have to do? Lu Xie, teach me.”

Lu Xie, who grew up an orphan and had seen the worst of humanity, felt a rare twinge in his chest when he looked into Hai San’er’s pure eyes.

“Teaching someone how to be human isn’t something you can do in a day or two.”

“I’ll come every day, and you can teach me every day. I’ll learn quickly, I promise,” Hai San’er said eagerly.

Lu Xie didn’t refuse. From that day on, he consciously taught Hai San’er how to live like a human.

“This is a telephone, a landline. That’s a mobile phone. They look different, but they’re essentially the same. Take the mobile phone outside. I’ll call you, and you answer the way I taught you.”

Lu Xie handed Hai San’er a newly bought second-hand phone, which had become the merman’s latest toy. Fortunately, no one would contact Lu Xie on it anyway. He pointed to a coconut tree not far away. “Stand under that tree.”

Hai San’er obediently backed up to the coconut tree, holding the phone with both hands, his eyes glued to the screen. He had already memorized everything Lu Xie taught him about using the phone.

When the ringtone buzzed, Hai San’er jumped, nearly dropping the phone. Steadying himself, he pressed the answer button.

“Hello, I’m Hai San’er. You’re Lu Xie.”

The sound of the wind and waves distorted the call. Combined with the crackling static, Lu Xie’s voice sounded different.

“That’s not how you answer a call. When someone calls, just ask what they want. You don’t need to introduce yourself, and not every call will be from me.”

Amazed by the technology, Hai San’er exclaimed, “I can hear your voice! Does that mean I can call you from the sea?”

“This thing isn’t waterproof. It won’t work in the sea. Come back now.”

Relieved, Hai San’er carefully placed the phone back on the landline base. Humans truly had fascinating inventions.

After standing outside briefly, the sun left Hai San’er sweaty. He squinted and ran toward the electric fan. “It’s cool!”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to warn you. That fan is dangerous. If your fingers accidentally get caught, the blades could cut them off,” Lu Xie said seriously.

Horrified, Hai San’er immediately moved away from the fan. Anything Lu Xie mentioned—be it the fan or the TV—suddenly felt hazardous.

Night fell. After washing up, Hai San’er followed Lu Xie upstairs. Lu Xie was lazy and hadn’t yet folded the steel-framed bed Hai San’er had used.

“Perfect. You can sleep in your own bed.”

As Lu Xie lay down, sleep quickly overtook him. He heard the faint rustle of movement but assumed Hai San’er was heading to the bathroom. Instead, the bed creaked, and a warm body pressed against him.

“I want to sleep with you.”

The narrow bed was too small for two tall men. Hai San’er lay rigidly, afraid Lu Xie might kick him out.

Annoyed, Lu Xie clicked his tongue but didn’t open his eyes. “It’s too hot to stick together like this.”

But he didn’t kick Hai San’er out. Emboldened, Hai San’er wriggled under Lu Xie’s arm, wrapping his limbs around him.

“I’m a fish, so I’m not hot.”