RAM Chapter 9

The mermaid noticed Lu Xie staring at him. Straightening his upper body while keeping his knees in a kneeling posture, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Lu Xie couldn’t very well admit he was pondering whether the mermaid could be sold for cash. Running a hand through his hair, he blurted out a random excuse, “I was wondering what you eat. Do you eat fish feed?”

He had previously fed the mermaid his own meals, but now that he realized how precious this mermaid was, he figured he couldn’t treat him casually. After all, he was a mermaid, not a goldfish. Lu Xie resolved to provide for him properly.

The mermaid was caught off guard, touched by the rare display of concern. Lu Xie asking about his preferences was so out of character, far kinder than usual. He still loves me—and the baby too, the mermaid thought shyly.

“I eat everything. Sometimes fish, sometimes a bit of plankton or algae,” the mermaid replied honestly. It all depended on his luck as a hunter.

Looks like he’s easy to feed—a low-maintenance omnivore, Lu Xie mused. As long as someone feeds him, he’ll survive.

Grabbing a pack of pumpkin taro buns from the shelf, Lu Xie ripped it open and handed it to the mermaid. The mermaid leaned in to sniff, confirmed it was edible, and took a small bite. Sweet!

He’d never tasted anything like this—soft, sticky, fragrant, and sweet. It was utterly delicious. If not for Lu Xie’s kindness, he wouldn’t have been able to enjoy such a treat in his entire life.

Figures. Fish do like sweet things, Lu Xie noted.

“Go ahead, eat.” Lu Xie casually placed the entire pack next to the mermaid before heading to the shop’s entrance to light a cigarette. Taking a drag, he exhaled a plume of smoke and fished his seawater-soaked phone out of his pocket. This was already the second phone that had broken in such a short time. Given his current financial situation, this was a real blow.

“What are you doing?” The mermaid had silently appeared behind Lu Xie, startling him.

“Shit!” Lu Xie nearly dropped his cigarette. “Weren’t you watching TV?”

“I finished.” The mermaid pouted, pointing at the television.

Following the direction of the mermaid’s finger, Lu Xie saw the screen displaying a giant, colorful globe. Finished? More like the signal’s out. This was typical for a coastal area—cable TV, landlines, and cell phones often lost signal.

“What’s that?” The mermaid caught a whiff of smoke and immediately started coughing uncontrollably. “Cough, cough…”

The mermaid was a treasure now, and Lu Xie was worried about anything affecting his health—or his value. Panicking, he quickly switched the cigarette to his other hand. “Stand farther away.”

But with the TV out, the mermaid only wanted to stay close to Lu Xie. Even when told to stand back, he merely took half a step.

Seeing this, Lu Xie raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“Uh…” The mermaid wasn’t great at hiding his thoughts; his face always gave him away. After some hesitation, he finally blurted out, “That Little Mermaid…”

Lu Xie exhaled a stream of smoke in the opposite direction and interrupted, “Didn’t I tell you? It’ll arrive in a couple of days.”

“I don’t mean the dvd.”

“Then what?”

“The Little Mermaid’s name is Ariel.”

The mermaid’s seemingly random statement left Lu Xie baffled. He’d never properly watched the animated movie and didn’t remember the mermaid’s name. “And?”

“I want to be called Ariel too.”

Even though Lu Xie hadn’t watched the movie, he knew that Ariel sounded like a girl’s name. He scoffed, “Are you nuts? You’re a male mermaid! Why would you want to be called Ariel? Don’t you have a name?”

“I don’t. And if I did, I don’t remember it.”

Lu Xie furrowed his brows. That was true—when he first met the mermaid, he’d casually asked for a name, assuming he was human. But now he was just a fish. And why would a fish need a name?

“Then give me one,” the mermaid demanded.

Lu Xie was at a loss. He wasn’t well-educated, so even coming up with a random name to brush off the mermaid felt like a chore.

“If you don’t name me, I’ll call myself Ariel.”

The thought of a burly, muscular male mermaid going by the name Ariel made Lu Xie cringe. Scratching his head, he finally came up with something. “Fine, how about Hai Sheng?”

You’re born of the sea; it fits.

But the mermaid pouted. “No, I want a three-character name like Ariel’s¹.”

Lu Xie clenched his fists. Why is this fish so hard to please? “Fine! Hai Sheng’er. Three characters. Happy now?”

The mermaid tilted his head, seemingly contemplating the name. Since he trusted Lu Xie completely, he nodded earnestly. “How do you write it?”

Lu Xie stubbed out his cigarette against the wall, puzzled. “You can’t read, can you?”

The mermaid confidently replied, “Nope.”

Precisely because he couldn’t read, he wanted to ask how to write his name. Having a name made him feel closer to Lu Xie, and he wanted to learn to be more human.

Lu Xie wanted to tell him he didn’t need a name or to know how to write it—after all, he was just a fish that would be sold off soon. But seeing the hopeful, earnest look on the mermaid’s face, Lu Xie sighed. Providing some emotional value to the mermaid is also a way to boost his price.

Squatting down, Lu Xie picked up a nearby stick. After writing the first character, “海” (Hai), he hesitated, then changed the name. “Hai San’er,” he said.

Compared to “生” (Sheng)², “三” (San) was easier to write and better suited for someone who didn’t know any characters.

The mermaid didn’t notice the difference and happily copied the strokes, presenting his messy attempt with a bright smile. “Hai San’er!”

The sunlight illuminated the mermaid’s radiant ex

pression, and Lu Xie found himself momentarily dazed. Giving him a name feels like establishing a connection, which I shouldn’t be doing.

“Like this?”

The mermaid’s ability to imitate was surprisingly strong. His gestures were almost human, and without closer inspection, one wouldn’t realize he was a bit simple-minded. He’d copied the characters with decent accuracy.

“Yeah.” Avoiding the mermaid’s gaze, Lu Xie turned his head and reluctantly praised him, “Not bad.”

The mermaid beamed even brighter. “What about your name? How do you write it?”

The warm sea breeze brushed against Lu Xie’s face, exacerbating his irritation. Feeling his craving for a cigarette intensify, he clicked his tongue impatiently and wrote “陆携” (Lu Xie) on the sand.

Compared to “Hai San’er,” Lu Xie’s name was much more complex. The mermaid stared at it in awe, muttering, “Why is yours so hard? And it’s only two characters.”

Despite his complaints, the mermaid tried his best to replicate it. After several crooked attempts, none looked remotely correct.

Seeing the mermaid’s persistence, Lu Xie sighed and took his hand. Guiding the stick in the mermaid’s grip, he helped him write his name properly.

The mermaid leaned against Lu Xie’s chest, their arms brushing as they worked together. Lu Xie could feel the mermaid’s strong, rhythmic heartbeat as their warmth intertwined.

“Who gave you such a difficult name?”

The mermaid’s voice was deep and resonant, his chest vibrating with every word. Lu Xie lowered his gaze and answered in a somber tone, “The director of the orphanage.”

The mermaid clearly had no clue what an orphanage was, nor who the director might be.

“Who’s that?”

How was he supposed to explain this to a fish?

“A place where I lived when I was a kid,” Lu Xie said simply.

The reason he hadn’t kicked the mermaid out earlier wasn’t just because the guy had saved his life. He also suspected that the mermaid didn’t have any relatives in town, no matter what he claimed. His head seemed a bit off, he had a habit of running around naked, and he gave off the vibe of someone homeless. Maybe, like Lu Xie, he was an orphan.

Being an orphan was tough—Lu Xie knew that all too well. You get chased out of everywhere, with no place to call home.

“Is that how it is?!” The mermaid suddenly raised his voice, bouncing excitedly in Lu Xie’s arms. His strength was downright ridiculous, and Lu Xie found himself slammed into the doorframe. “Lu Xie, is it true?”

Clutching his chest, Lu Xie groaned, half-annoyed and half-resigned. “Yes, yes, yes.”

No sooner had he spoken than the mermaid darted forward, planting a quick kiss on his face. The soft, fleeting sensation left Lu Xie stunned. By the time he came back to his senses, the mermaid was gazing at him with an adorably shy expression.

Lu Xie shoved him away, scrubbing at his cheek with the back of his hand like he’d been contaminated. He spat out the first thing that came to mind, “Are you crazy?”

“But I’m happy! When I’m happy, I just want to get closer to you.” The mermaid truly seemed ecstatic. Even being scolded didn’t faze him. When he was happy, all he wanted was to touch Lu Xie, hug him, and cling to him.

Lu Xie wasn’t the type to smile much. His life had always been bleak, with no reason to feel joy. That’s why he found the mermaid’s constant cheerful and carefree demeanor so aggravating.

But then he remembered—this cheerful idiot was worth a lot of money. So, Lu Xie swallowed his irritation and decided to endure. Back in the shop, he commandeered the recliner, closed his eyes, and pretended to nap, hoping to escape the nonsense.

Unfortunately, the mermaid had no concept of personal boundaries. He squatted beside Lu Xie, gently shaking his arm. “Lu Xie, you still haven’t called me by my name.”

What was the point of having a name if no one used it? It was a name Lu Xie had given him, so naturally, Lu Xie should be the first to use it.

Lu Xie yanked his arm away and turned over, his back to the mermaid, resolutely ignoring him.

The mermaid wasn’t discouraged. He circled around and squatted in front of Lu Xie again. “You haven’t called me by my name yet.”

Lu Xie was at his wit’s end. His fists clenched and unclenched as he repeatedly reminded himself: Don’t hit him. Hitting him will ruin his looks, and that’ll lower his price. Finally, to stop the mermaid from pestering him further, Lu Xie took a deep breath and growled, “Hai San’er, shut up!”

“Okay!” Hai San’er’s voice boomed like a gong, brimming with excitement. Being told to shut up didn’t bother him in the slightest. In fact, he obediently got up and stopped disturbing Lu Xie’s nap.

Peeking through half-closed eyes to ensure Hai San’er wasn’t causing more chaos, Lu Xie saw him sitting at the door, happily munching on a pumpkin taro bun.