RAM Chapter 37

“Cola won’t do, let’s buy some milk instead.”

“A little bit shouldn’t hurt, right?”

“Don’t eat so many snacks.”

“This toy isn’t waterproof.”

Lu Xie scrutinized the items in the cart, completely unaware of Hai San’er’s unhappiness. By the time he realized and looked around for him, Hai San’er had been left far behind, standing still with a puffed-up expression, glaring at him.

“What’s wrong?”

The day of the Pisces constellation’s appearance was near, coinciding with Hai San’er’s vacation. They were planning to stay on a small island for a few days, having prepared tents, food, and bottled water, as well as a gift for Zhenzhu. But somehow, Hai San’er refused to move when Lu Xie started picking items.

Hai San’er pouted, refusing to answer Lu Xie’s question or come closer.

Lu Xie didn’t understand what had gotten into him, but he couldn’t exactly argue with a mermaid who had only been human for a year. He pushed the cart back to Hai San’er, “What’s going on?”

Hai San’er wasn’t very good at being angry and was inexperienced at throwing tantrums. He stomped his foot, “You won’t let me eat.”

Lu Xie remembered. He had stopped Hai San’er’s snacks and drinks for over half a month. It was well known that fish were insatiable creatures—while it was unlikely for them to starve, they were more likely to overeat. Mermaids retained this flaw, and Hai San’er lacked restraint when it came to snacks and drinks.

“Don’t you know why I don’t let you eat? Who sneaks into the living room at night, eating snacks when everyone else is asleep?”

Thinking about this, Lu Xie got angry. He had been in a daze when he heard crunching sounds coming from the living room, thinking a thief had broken in. He tiptoed out with a stick, only to find Hai San’er sitting on the sofa, happily eating snacks.

“You’re a thief, a family thief,” Lu Xie muttered, pulling Hai San’er’s wrist and pinning him to the cart handle, tugging him forward. “Who’s stopping you from eating? You just don’t know restraint. I’ve told you before, eating too much of that stuff is bad for you. When you regret it, it’ll be too late.”

As Lu Xie spoke, he kept an eye on Hai San’er’s reaction. When he saw Hai San’er still sulking, he lowered his voice, “We’re about to meet Zhenzhu. Zhenzhu’s just a little thing guarding the sea. What do you think will happen if he finds out his dad is throwing a tantrum over snacks? How are you going to be a good example for him?”

Suddenly being made to feel like a role model, Hai San’er couldn’t quite process it. He blinked, feeling a little embarrassed from Lu Xie’s words.

Seeing Hai San’er hesitate, Lu Xie quickly changed the subject. “Have you finished preparing everything for tonight?”

Hai San’er nodded eagerly. It was his first time packing on his own, and he was determined to do it right.

Once the cashier finished scanning the items, Lu Xie opened a bottle of drink and handed it to Hai San’er. “Here, drink this.”

Hai San’er held the bottle, his mouth almost curling into a smile. Fine, he decided, he wouldn’t stay mad at Lu Xie.

By the time the sky turned completely dark, the two boarded a boat they had rented, with Lu Xie handling the navigation. For him, sailing was much easier than swimming—at least it didn’t require psychological preparation.

Out of the water, Hai San’er’s sense of distance wasn’t as sharp, and it was his turn to keep asking when they would arrive.

“Lu Xie, are we there yet? Lu Xie! Lu Xie! Lu Xie!”

Annoying. How could a fish be so irritating?

Lu Xie reached out to press Hai San’er’s head down, silencing him. “Be quiet.”

Hai San’er stared up, his large eyes catching the gleam of Lu Xie’s fingers. With Lu Xie holding him, he froze, completely still, like a person frozen in place.

“If you’re so bored, you can come stand next to me.”

Hai San’er squeezed over to stand beside Lu Xie. They watched the scenery outside the cockpit together. The vast blue sea calmed the fidgety mermaid, and he silently kept watch over Lu Xie. Inside, a voice kept telling him that they were getting closer to Zhenzhu.

“Island!”

After some time, Hai San’er had begun to doze off with his head resting on Lu Xie’s shoulder. At the sight of the island, his eyes brightened. He suddenly stood up, and his head collided with Lu Xie’s. Both of them yelped in pain.

“Ugh!”

Lu Xie rubbed his temple and turned to see Hai San’er holding his head. He grumbled, “If Zhenzhu doesn’t show up, we might knock ourselves out on the boat.”

Hai San’er didn’t mind, too eager to get into the water. He stood on his toes, anxiously, “Lu Xie, I want to go down.”

The boat couldn’t get too close. Hai San’er had to first help Lu Xie ashore, then carry the items one by one. Luckily, they had waterproofed everything, and after several trips, all their belongings were on the shore.

“Go ahead and play,” Lu Xie knew Hai San’er must have been itching to get back to the sea, so he would set up the tent by himself. If he asked Hai San’er for help, it would only make things more complicated.

Lu Xie packed the gear, while Hai San’er climbed ashore and dove back into the sea. Lu Xie set up the tent, and Hai San’er swam gracefully on his back. When Lu Xie finished everything, Hai San’er emerged from the water.

“Are you tired? Want to rest on shore?” Lu Xie sat and worked, while Hai San’er had been swimming for a long time. How did he have so much energy?

“I’m not tired.” Hai San’er said, though he lay down by the shore closer to Lu Xie. The moonlight illuminated the water droplets on his body, and his silver hair glimmered faintly. In that moment, he seemed to transform back into a mermaid.

“Even if you’re not tired, rest for a while.” Lu Xie opened a bottle of water and handed it to Hai San’er. “Who knows when Zhenzhu will come.”

The day of Pisces’ appearance was random. They might end up waiting for many days, but they weren’t worried—just concerned that when Hai San’er had to go back to work, Zhenzhu still wouldn’t have appeared.

Hai San’er scooped up some sea water in his palm, his voice warm. “Mermaids are very reliable. If we say something, we will keep our word.”

Animals are like that—they don’t lie and keep their promises.

“If Zhenzhu were like you, that would be great.”

Hai San’er bit the straw, tilted his head, and looked at Lu Xie. “What do you mean by ‘like me’?”

“Calling your name, saying there’s food, and you’ll show up right away.”

Hai San’er blinked, thinking seriously about it. It seemed like he really was like that. Lu Xie really understood him. He grabbed Lu Xie’s wrist. “You should try calling Zhenzhu’s name and telling him there’s food. Maybe he’ll appear right away.”

Although it was a silly idea, Lu Xie knew it was unlikely, but for some reason, when Hai San’er suggested it, he still wanted to give it a try.

“Zhenzhu! Daddy brought you a drink you’ve never had.”

The sound of the waves soon drowned out Lu Xie’s voice. He chuckled awkwardly. “He didn’t come out. Zhenzhu’s only ever eaten soap, so he doesn’t know what a drink tastes like.”

“Ugh!” Hai San’er lightly pushed Lu Xie. How could he mention their soap-eating habit?

Just then, a rustling sound came from the grass behind them. Lu Xie thought it might be a snake or something, stood up to grab a tool to chase it away, but then a little hand appeared, gripping the stone at the shore. When he looked up, he met the gaze of the little mermaid.

“Zhenzhu!”

Lu Xie was overjoyed. He rushed forward and picked Zhenzhu up. After a year, this tiny mermaid, barely the size of a palm, had grown to the size of a newborn baby.

“You’ve grown so much.” Lu Xie marveled, unable to hold Zhenzhu in his palm anymore.

Hai San’er followed him to shore and took Zhenzhu from Lu Xie. He gently patted Zhenzhul’s head. “It feels like Zhenzhu quickly because we didn’t see him every day.”

Zhenzhu smiled and wrapped his arms around Hai San’er’s hand, just like when they were kids. He glanced left and right at Hai San’er, then turned his gaze to Lu Xie, his tail fin brushing affectionately against both of their thighs.

“Does he not recognize us anymore?” Lu Xie stroked Zhenzhu’s chin. Fish were said to have a memory span of seven seconds, and even mermaids didn’t seem much better. No one in the ocean called Zhenzhu by his name—could he have forgotten it himself? “Do you still remember your name?”

Zhenzhu cupped Lu Xie’s cheeks with both hands, nodded emphatically, and planted a kiss on Lu Xie’s cheek.

The distant yet familiar sensation on his face made Lu Xie’s nose sting, and his eyes reddened. He knew the sea was Zhenzhu’s rightful home, but he still felt a pang of guilt, as if Zhenzhu had suffered from being left alone in the ocean.

“Dad’s about to cry,” Hai San’er teased, rocking Zhenzhu in his arms. “Come on, comfort Dad.”

Lu Xie was always annoyed when Hai San’er did this. Clearly, the one who’d cry at the drop of a hat was Hai San’er, yet somehow Lu Xie was the one tearing up every time, especially in front of Zhenzhu. Embarrassed, he leaned on Hai San’er’s shoulder, avoiding Zhenzhu’s gaze.

Lu Xie wasn’t someone who wore his emotions openly. Missing someone, loving someone—he found it hard to put such feelings into words. He hated showing his vulnerable side, but mermaids, with their overwhelming emotional needs, had no such qualms.

Zhenzhu reached out and stroked Lu Xie’s cheek, then pulled out a pearl from who-knows-where and pressed it into Lu Xie’s hand.

Seeing Lu Xie holding the pearl in confusion, Hai San’er explained on Zhenzhu’s behalf, “Zhenzhu’s giving it to you.”

Zhenzhu nodded enthusiastically in agreement, then kissed Hai San’er as if to express his gratitude.

Lu Xie finally understood the selfless love of a parent, asking nothing in return. Zhenzhu was no bigger than a human infant, with tiny hands barely large enough to hold a single pearl.

“Don’t go searching for more,” Lu Xie said softly. “Dad doesn’t need these things. It’s too much trouble for you.”

“Mm!” Zhenzhu let out a short sound, gripping Lu Xie’s hand as if insisting he accept it.

Hai San’er continued translating, “Zhenzhu says he found it just for you. You have to take it.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll take it,” Lu Xie relented, carefully placing the pearl in the innermost pocket of his bag. “Dad’s keeping it safe.”

Hai San’er placed Zhenzhu back in the water, then pulled out the snacks he and Lu Xie had bought for Zhenzhu. Mimicking the way Lu Xie used to lecture him, he said, “Kids shouldn’t eat too much of this, okay?”

But when it came to Zhenzhu, Lu Xie was all indulgence. “Zhenzhu only gets to eat these once a year. Let him enjoy it.”

“Hmm?” Hai San’er put his hands on his hips. “Why don’t I get the same treatment?”

“Alright, alright,” Lu Xie said, pulling out the large bag of snacks. “You both can have some.”

Now that was more like it.

Hai San’er, playing the role of a salesman, introduced each snack to Zhenzhu. “This is the newest pumpkin taro bun.”

Zhenzhu, the naive fish who had seen even less of the world than Hai San’er, clapped enthusiastically at every introduction.

“And ta-da!” Hai San’er held up a can of cola with both hands. “Zhenzhu, this is cola that Dad bought for us.”

He carefully placed the cola can on the ground and, with Zhenzhu, solemnly bowed to it. After completing their sacred cola-worship ritual, Hai San’er handed the can to Lu Xie. “Open it for us, please. Thank you.”

Lu Xie stared, dumbfounded, then burst out laughing at Hai San’er’s polite thank you. “Well, aren’t you courteous.”

As the cola hissed open, Hai San’er generously offered Zhenzhu the first sip. Lu Xie, unable to bear the sight, opened another can for Hai San’er.

It was Hai San’er’s second can of soda that day. Overjoyed, he quickly kissed Lu Xie, grabbed the can, and slid into the water. Taking a sip, he draped his arms lazily over the edge of the shore and let out a satisfied hum. Zhenzhu mimicked him, taking a sip and then leaning his arms against the shore with a look of contentment.

Lu Xie rubbed his forehead, unable to resist commenting, “It’s just cola, not beer.”

Hai San’er couldn’t care less whether it was cola or beer. He clamored for Lu Xie to bring out the photos. Though they hadn’t traveled much that year, every trip had been documented in pictures to show Zhenzhu.

“Look, Zhenzhu. It snows in winter here. It’s freezing cold.”

Zhenzhu, not understanding what a photo was, stared at the image of a tiny Lu Xie trapped in a small rectangular piece of paper, utterly astonished. Once he confirmed the person in the photo wasn’t real, he clung to Hai San’er’s arm for comfort.

“Dad got a job at an aquarium as a mermaid, and Daddy Lu Xie’s been making toys for kids. You probably don’t know what a job is.”

“Our Zhenzhu can’t talk yet,” Lu Xie said, crouching down. “What have you been up to this past year?”

Zhenzhu set his cola aside, dove into the water, then surfaced again, launching into an impromptu pantomime. His face scrunched in concentration, his whole body tensed as if pulling something. Then he raised both hands and rapidly wagged his tail. Finally, he rested his chin in his hands and gazed skyward.

“Our Zhenzhu helped free a sea turtle tangled in ocean garbage and rescued fish that were stuck,” Hai San’er translated, applauding Zhenzhu. His voice faltered slightly as he added, “Sometimes he even came near the island to check if we’d arrived early.”

Lu Xie couldn’t take it anymore, his throat tightening. He hurriedly pulled out a gift from his backpack. “This is a pair of sunglasses Dad made for you, but you’ve grown too fast, so they don’t fit anymore.”

Zhenzhu had once been envious of Hai San’er’s sunglasses. But now, though they were the wrong size, Zhenzhu didn’t mind. He perched them on his nose and wore them proudly.

Lu Xie knew Zhenzhu couldn’t come near shore while growing, and he and Hai San’er couldn’t visit often. Still, he couldn’t help but promise, “Next time, Dad will come earlier.”