RAM Chapter 32

“How much longer?” Lu Xie lay on the back of the juvenile whale, resting his head on his arm. The sun was just right above him, and he squinted his eyes. Since learning that he could see Zhenzhu in half a day, this was the fifth time he had asked Hai San’er the time.

Hai San’er was incredibly patient, answering Lu Xie’s question without getting tired of it. “Once you can see the island, we’re almost there.”

“See the island, again with that phrase.” Lu Xie could recite it by heart at this point. Unable to sleep, he got up and decided to eat the last bit of dry food in his bag. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a coconut tree standing tall on the distant sea. “An island!”

Following the direction of Lu Xie’s finger, the island with the coconut tree gradually came into view. Unable to sit still any longer, Lu Xie excitedly paced back and forth, muttering to himself, “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”

“We’re here,” Hai San’er said, as they had already arrived. For safety reasons, he had brought Zhenzhu out to the open sea with the help of the sea elves. The island was surrounded by water, far from the shore, and it was the perfect habitat for Zhenzhu.

While speaking, the juvenile whale stopped about ten meters from the island. Hai San’er opened his arms to Lu Xie, ready to catch him. “Jump down. The whale can’t go any further, it might get stranded.”

“Thanks.” Lu Xie patted the juvenile whale’s back, then gently leaped off, heading towards Hai San’er. Hai San’er effortlessly caught him, and they swam towards the island.

The island was a perfect size, lush with vegetation. There might even be other animals living there, but Lu Xie wasn’t interested in exploring at the moment. After landing, he stripped off his clothes, wrung out the seawater, and began looking around for Zhenzhu.

“Zhenzhu! Daddy’s here!”

Hai San’er sat on the shore, holding himself up with his arms, and chuckled. “Why would Zhenzhu be on the shore?”

Lu Xie turned around just in time to see the juvenile whale disappear from sight, followed by a sharp call from the whale. A water column shot up from the surface, and a small mermaid did a few somersaults at the top, laughing gleefully. The whale gradually surfaced, and the water column dissipated, revealing Zhenzhu sitting on the whale’s back.

“Zhenzhu!”

As soon as he heard Lu Xie’s voice, Zhenzhu slid off the whale’s back and flapped his tail to swim towards the shore. He grabbed Hai San’er’s tailfin, pressing his little body against his “fish dad” with a contented look, then stretched his arms out toward Lu Xie.

Lu Xie sat down beside Hai San’er and extended his hand, lifting the small mermaid out of the water. “Were you waiting anxiously?”

Zhenzhu hugged Lu Xie’s thumb, examining him from left to right, seemingly checking if Lu Xie was injured. Lu Xie scratched his chin. “I’m not hurt.”

Upon hearing this, Zhenzhu finally relaxed, brought his hands to his mouth, and kissed them before blowing a kiss toward both of his fathers.

“Haha.” Lu Xie chuckled at his actions. “Who taught you that? Stop watching so much TV.”

Speaking of TV, Zhenzhu seemed to remember something. He leaned against Lu Xie’s palm, closed his eyes, and placed his hands on his belly, lying peacefully, though his lips were puckered high.

Lu Xie didn’t quite understand, so he turned to Hai San’er. “What does this mean?”

“He’s pretending to be Snow White, poisoned and needing a prince’s kiss to wake up.” Hai San’er said, then cupped his own face, mimicking Zhenzhu’s pouting. “I’m also Snow White.”

Lu Xie burst out laughing. “How many cartoons did you secretly let Zhenzhu watch?”

Both mermaids stayed in their positions, not moving. With no choice, Lu Xie leaned down and kissed Hai Saner’s lips, then kissed Zhenzhu’s cheek as well.

The mermaids finally opened their eyes. Fearing Zhenzhu couldn’t be out of the water for too long, Lu Xie returned him to the water, then looked around the island. It was clear that this place was uninhabitable. They had to find a place to stay before nightfall, or they would be stuck.

“Let’s find a place to get ashore. We still have the paperwork to sort out, need a place to stay, and find work.” At this point, Lu Xie felt that being human was a hassle. Fish were so much better—they had the entire sea as their home, could go anywhere, and were invincible in the water.

He lightly patted Hai Saner’s thigh. He still felt something was off, though after getting used to it, it wasn’t bothering him as much. “Let’s go.”

Hai San’er jumped back into the water and signaled Lu Xie to follow. After their previous experience, Lu Xie was no longer as resistant to the ocean. He did some mental preparation and, with Hai Saner’s help, leaped into the water. Hai San’er smoothly swam them over to the baby whale.

“Let’s ride the whale to the shore.”

Lu Xie nodded. As he climbed onto the whale’s back, he realized Hai San’er had followed him. It was only when a fully naked Hai San’er stood in front of him that Lu Xie realized.

Where was Hai Saner’s tail?

Lu Xie lowered his eyelids and quickly glanced around, trying to recall when Hai San’er had lost his tail. It should have appeared the moment it touched the water, but when had it disappeared? Lu Xie thought hard and then realized—it must have been when they were sitting in the water. Hai Saner’s tail had quietly transformed into two human legs. No wonder he had felt something was off. He was now completely naked.

“You…” Lu Xie was stunned. He recalled Hai San’er’s words: mermaids who bond with humans can eventually become human. “Where’s your tail?”

Hai San’er looked unfazed, as though he had expected this reaction, and gave Lu Xie a faint smile.

But… Lu Xie’s mind was buzzing. He had always thought that “becoming human,” according to Hai San’er, meant having both a fish tail and legs—being able to control one’s form at will, no longer bound by time on land. But without the tail, Hai San’er could never return to the sea. He was no longer a mermaid.

Thinking about how Hai San’er had no way back, Lu Xie felt as if something heavy was pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Seeing the complexity in Lu Xie’s expression, Hai San’er held his hand to comfort him. The warmth of Hai Saner’s hand was reassuring, but Lu Xie didn’t know what to say. He covered Hai Saner’s hand with his other hand. “This is so sudden… I’m afraid you’ll regret it later… Being human isn’t easy… once you become human… you can’t regret it…”

Hai San’er sat next to Lu Xie. “I know, but without you, after Zhenzhu was born, I would have had to wait for death in a quiet place. Lu Xie, you gave me a third life.”

Becoming human might have been the best way for a mermaid to extend their life, a reason to celebrate, but… Lu Xie still couldn’t feel happy. Hai Saner loved the sea, but now, with a new life came the price of losing his tail. Even though Hai San’er said nothing, Lu Xie knew it was weighing heavily on him.

Lu Xie gripped Hai Saner’s hand tightly, as though holding it tighter could give Hai San’er more reassurance.

“Let’s go.”

The whale began to move, but Zhenzhu didn’t budge. He sat in his shell, staring at Lu Xie and Hai San’er’s backs.

“Wait!” Lu Xie shouted. When his eyes met Zhenzhu’s, an unsettling premonition spread in his heart. He suppressed the discomfort and forced a dry laugh. “Zhenzhu hasn’t caught up yet.”

Zhenzhu still didn’t move. His bright eyes looked at Hai San’er. Hai San’er took a deep breath. Lu Xie suddenly raised his hand—he felt like he knew what Hai San’er was about to say, and he didn’t want to hear it.

But Hai San’er held his wrist firmly. “Zhenzhu can’t come with us. He’s a mermaid, he must stay in the sea.”

Lu Xie understood the reasoning, but he couldn’t help himself from reaching toward Zhenzhu in the water. He tried to argue with Hai San’er. “I know, but he’s still so small. The sea is dangerous for him—there are tsunamis, and so many bigger creatures… he…”

“The land is more dangerous,” Hai San’er interrupted calmly. “Lu Xie, the sea is the safest place for a mermaid.”

Even though Hai San’er’s words made sense, Lu Xie still didn’t want to listen. He waved his arms helplessly in the air, tears welling in his eyes, his voice trembling. “I know the sea is safest. What I mean is… Zhenzhu is still small. Even if he has to return to the sea… he should wait until he’s bigger…”

“Do you want to keep Zhenzhu in a glass bottle or fish tank? Just because we don’t want to part with him, do we have to be so cruel to a mermaid?”

Mermaids belonged to the sea. They were free. Keeping Zhenzhu confined in a small space was no different from capturing a mermaid for a lab experiment. Lu Xie understood all the big ideas, but as an orphan, he feared being separated from his family.

“Zhenzhu has a responsibility to protect the sea. He has his own adventure. We shouldn’t make choices for him.”

No wonder Hai San’er had seemed so uninterested when they named Zhenzhu. It seemed like he already knew they would eventually have to part from Zhenzhu.

A wave of bitterness flooded Lu Xie’s heart. He turned away, pressing his face hard against Hai San’er’s shoulder. Tears streamed down his face, his body shaking from sobbing. He hadn’t noticed the juvenile whale sinking beneath them, but he felt a familiar, soft touch on his hand. He turned his head slightly to see Zhenzhu swimming up to him.

Zhenzhu comforted Lu Xie just as he did Hai San’er, gently patting his hand. When Lu Xie got closer, he used his small hands to wipe away the tears on Lu Xie’s face.

Not just Hai San’er, but even Zhenzhu knew they would have to separate. The two who actually cried the most didn’t shed any tears, because they had already rehearsed this moment of parting in their hearts countless times.

“Lu Xie, we’ve been with Zhenzhu for so long. He’s the luckiest mermaid. The ocean is one big world. As long as we touch the sea, we’re touching Zhenzhu. We haven’t really parted.”

Zhenzhu nodded, acting like a little grown-up, agreeing with his fish dad.

Hai San’er gently placed Zhenzhu back into the water. “We’ll have the chance to meet again.”

When Lu Xie looked up, the tears on his face had dried, though his eyes were still red and his throat hoarse. He knew it was childish to ask, but he couldn’t help it. He had to leave a little hope for himself. He choked out, “Next time… when will we meet again?”