RAM Extra 1

Three children were delighted with a beautiful shell they’d found by the sea. However, the shell was tightly sealed, and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t open it.

“My dad told me that if a shell won’t open, it’s dead.”

“Break it open.”

As much as they felt it was a pity to destroy such a lovely shell, they were more unwilling to miss the chance of finding a pearl inside. They grabbed some stones, ready to smash it.

“Dead? Then just throw it away.”

“What if there’s a pearl inside?”

After much debate, one of them suggested, “Why don’t we break it open to check?”

“Hey.”

A cold, unfamiliar voice interrupted their actions. The three turned around to see an older boy standing nearby, hands in his pockets, his brow furrowed. He didn’t look very old, but his serious expression made him seem much more mature. No one knew how long he’d been standing there.

“What do you want?”

“Sell it to me.” The boy stepped forward, extending a hand toward them. His tone was curt, almost like a command, making it sound more like a demand than a request. “How much?”

The children exchanged nervous glances, intimidated by his presence. The bravest among them stammered out a price.

“Twenty.”

The boy didn’t bargain. He pulled out twenty yuan, shoved it into their hands, and grabbed the shell.

Seeing how quickly he paid, the children immediately regretted their low price. Emboldened, one of them blurted, “No, wait—it’s fifty!”

The boy didn’t even glance at them. He wound up his arm and hurled the shell forcefully back into the sea.

“Hey!” the children cried, grabbing his arm to argue. “How could you throw it away? We said fifty! You didn’t pay enough!”

“Didn’t you set the price yourself? Who cares about your last-minute markup?” The boy gave them a sharp look, then pointed at the twenty yuan still in their hands. “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back.”

“Who said we don’t want it?!”

Afraid of losing both the shell and the money, the children clutched the bills to their chests and ran off. They turned back once, making faces at the boy from a distance.

The boy didn’t bother with them further. He turned at the sound of someone calling him.

“Lu Xie! I just asked around, and this old house is abandoned. Let’s live here from now on.”

Lu Xie glanced at the spot where the shell had disappeared into the water. With it so far from shore, it shouldn’t be found again. Such a pretty shell—whether dead or alive, it would’ve been a shame to break it.

“Hey, big bro.” Lu Xie turned toward the dilapidated house and said to the older boy calling him, “I think I lost the twenty yuan you gave me.”

“What?!” Lu Hui was startled. They had just run away from the orphanage, and their money was painfully scarce. He had given Lu Xie the twenty yuan as a backup in case they got separated. “Ugh, never mind. Lost is lost. Let’s clean this place up before nightfall so we’ll have somewhere to sleep. At least we won’t have to fight with vagrants for space anymore.”

Far off on the horizon, bubbles began rising from the water’s surface. A tiny head emerged, followed by a small, delicate figure—a palm-sized mermaid.

The mermaid sat on the shell, his lake-blue eyes fixed longingly in the direction of the broken-down house. His rosy face and slightly parted lips radiated innocence, and his gaze was full of yearning.

He wanted to go closer. But the sea sprite warned him to stay away from the shore. He had narrowly escaped being caught by humans just now. A moment’s carelessness and he could’ve lost his life. Now he had to stay far from the coast, far from humans.

“Humans are dangerous creatures,” the sea sprite tried to reason with him.

The little mermaid crossed his hands over his belly and shyly shrugged. Not all humans, he thought. Some are good. That boy just saved me, after all.

Hai San’er finally got his hands on a copy of The Little Mermaid, a story he had longed to read.

But instead of being happy, he curled up in a ball on the couch, tears streaming down his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lu Xie asked as he walked into the living room, spotting Hai San’er sulking.

Hai San’er turned his back to Lu Xie, who frowned and strode over to forcibly flip the merman around. Hai San’er had already cried himself into a mess.

“Why are you crying? Did you take the wrong medicine?”

“I don’t like this story.”

Unbelievable. This fish was impossible to please—complaining when he couldn’t read it, and now complaining after he had.

Still, if he didn’t comfort him, Hai San’er would only cry harder. Lu Xie suppressed his frustration and asked, “What’s your reason this time?”

“The prince forgot the mermaid who saved him. He even mistook someone else for her! And the little mermaid turned into sea foam in the end… Waaaah! Did she really die?”

Hai San’er sobbed harder, practically setting off an emotional alarm. Seriously, what was the author thinking? Writing such a depressing story for kids?

Lu Xie covered Hai San’er’s mouth to muffle the wailing. He was fuming inside but reluctantly made up a happy ending.

“She didn’t die. She just turned into foam and went back to the sea. Humans, well, some are good, and some are bad.”

“Really?” Hai San’er sniffled, trembling.

“Really. If she had died, the author would’ve just said so. Why bother with the foam thing? That means she didn’t die.”

Hai San’er was convinced by Lu Xie’s impeccable logic. Wiping his tears, he said, “Lu Xie, I’m glad you didn’t forget me.”

Lu Xie was briefly moved by his heartfelt words. He didn’t dare admit he had originally planned to sell the fish.

“Unlike the little mermaid, you’re shameless. You’d corner me and ask nonstop if I remembered you.”

Hai San’er pouted. “Is it wrong to ask?”

“No, it’s fine. Ask all you want. Saves me the trouble of guessing.”

Hai San’er tugged at Lu Xie’s shirt, his voice sweet and drawn-out. “Then… can we mate tonight?”

Lu Xie’s face darkened. Before he could explode, Hai San’er hastily added, “You said I could ask!”

This little rascal. He’d been lying in wait for this moment.

“I said you could ask, not that I’d agree,” Lu Xie retorted, standing up to busy himself with something else.

Hai San’er trailed after him, tugging at his clothes and whining, drawing out his words in a playful tone. “Lu Xieee…”