RAM Chapter 12

“I think your memory isn’t that great either, speaking without thinking. What a load of nonsense—if it were just you, your mermaid species would’ve been extinct a long damn time ago.” Lu Xie remarked, his hands never pausing as he spoke. He repeatedly rinsed the fish tank until satisfied it was clean. Afterward, he attached a hose to the faucet and began filling the bathtub with water.

Hai San’er didn’t take offense at Lu Xie’s blunt tone. Instead, he patiently explained, “Our species is indeed on the brink of extinction. I’ve heard that long ago, there were far more merfolk than there are now. But over time, as the marine environment deteriorated, merfolk were the first species to eliminate themselves.”

Natural selection and survival of the fittest. Many species have vanished from Earth, so it wasn’t unthinkable for merfolk—once abundant—to face extinction. However, such a scientific explanation seemed more fitting for a nature documentary than coming from Hai San’er’s mouth, making it sound oddly comical.

The speaker lacked credibility, so naturally, the listener wasn’t invested. Lu Xie mocked indifferently, “You know this stuff? I thought you only watched cartoons.”

The humid sea breeze carried droplets of water. Hai San’er, usually cheerful and naive, suddenly looked a little sad as he spoke. After all, he couldn’t stop nature’s course.

Once the bathtub was nearly full, Lu Xie stood up and walked to Hai San’er’s side. At that moment, Hai San’er’s expression was forlorn, lost in thought. Lu Xie didn’t take his words seriously. Instead, he ordered, “Take off your clothes.”

Hai San’er was obedient as ever, stripping off his shirt and pants with far more efficiency than putting them on. In just a few moves, he was stark naked.

Faced with Hai San’er’s bare figure, Lu Xie felt slightly uncomfortable. When Hai San’er had clothes on, holding him hadn’t been a big deal, but now that he was naked, even though Hai San’er himself seemed unbothered, Lu Xie couldn’t help but feel awkward.

After some internal mental preparation, Lu Xie took a deep breath, leaned down, and scooped up the naked Hai San’er. As he carried him to the bathtub, Hai San’er’s toes brushed the water surface, and his legs began to transform. The outlines of his feet disappeared, replaced by iridescent fins. Colorful scales crept up his legs, shimmering under the sunlight. His fins swayed gently in the water, while crystalline droplets clung to Hai San’er’s delicate features and toned chest, making it impossible to look away.

Merfolk, whose diets consisted primarily of high-protein seafood and who spent their lives swimming in the deep sea, had smooth skin and powerful, well-defined muscles. Whether they had scientific value or not, simply lying there, they resembled exquisite works of art.

Back in the water, Hai San’er perked up. His tail fin flicked excitedly, splashing water high into the air. Droplets sprayed near his wounds, causing concern.

“Settle down, or your wound will get infected,” Lu Xie warned from the side of the tank. Watching Hai San’er’s lively demeanor, he thought about the consequences if word got out about finding a mermaid. Countless people would pursue him. Even if Hai San’er didn’t end up confined to a lab for life, he’d be forced into hiding, forever anxious and unable to live carefree as he did now.

Lu Xie had been vaguely aware of these issues before but hadn’t dwelled on them. He used to think of the mermaid as just an animal. Yet, as time passed, this mermaid gained a name—Hai San’er, a name he had given him. Could he still think of him as just a fish?

“Huh? Lu Xie?” Hai San’er noticed Lu Xie spacing out. He leaned in so close their lips nearly touched Lu Xie’s nose. “What are you thinking about?”

Lu Xie leaned back, feigning a threat. “Thinking about how to turn you into fish soup.”

Hai San’er wasn’t fazed. “You wouldn’t.”

“And how do you know I wouldn’t?” Lu Xie chuckled lightly. After all, he was a bounty hunter. As long as there was money involved, what wouldn’t he do?

“I just know,” Hai San’er said confidently, holding up a pearl from the water. “Look, our baobao.”

His righteous tone amused Lu Xie. Seeing what Hai San’er called “our baobao,” Lu Xie couldn’t be bothered to argue. “Baobao, baobao. You’re calling a pearl your baobao, but it can’t even turn into a mermaid.”

Lu Xie could somewhat understand Hai San’er’s sentiment. Merfolk produced pearls, and given their innocence, treating pearls as children wasn’t surprising.

Unexpectedly, Hai San’er declared with conviction, “Of course it can turn into a mermaid. It’ll grow up.”

This guy’s brain capacity must be the size of a pearl, Lu Xie thought, laughing at Hai San’er’s nonsensical logic.

“You just said you’re the only mermaid in the sea. If it grows up, what does that make you? Can’t you count?” Lu Xie doubted merfolk had any formal education, let alone a clear understanding of how many of them existed underwater.

Hai San’er caressed the pearl against his cheek, his tone inexplicably sorrowful. “A mermaid’s life is long and lonely. We yearn for new life, but the arrival of a new life also marks the countdown to our own. When the pearl fully transforms into a young mermaid, it signifies the end of my life as a mermaid. Only by mating with humans and growing legs can a mermaid gain rebirth, becoming a new human to live on land.”

For once, Hai San’er looked genuinely serious. Lu Xie, usually casual and indifferent, hesitated for a moment before brushing it off. This guy’s ability to make up stories was impressive.

“Pure nonsense. If that were true, your kind would’ve died out ages ago. Are you saying every mermaid mates with a human—” The word “mate” seemed to choke in Lu Xie’s throat, and he couldn’t bring himself to say it as bluntly as Hai San’er had.

But Hai San’er understood his implication. “Only a rare few merfolk can mate with humans, so even fewer transform into humans. Most merfolk fail to find a human partner. During the breeding season, they mate with other sea creatures. Those creatures don’t have good memories and are only drawn by the pheromones and glow of the breeding season. Once it’s over, they forget about the merfolk entirely. When the young merfolk grow up, those who mated with sea creatures can only await their death in silence.”

Lu Xie scrutinized Hai San’er’s face. If Hai San’er was lying, his imagination was impressive enough to warrant studying. But if he was telling the truth…

Seeing Lu Xie lost in thought, Hai San’er hugged his neck, leaning close. Like how he had cuddled the pearl, he gently nuzzled against Lu Xie’s cheek. “I found you.”

The soft sensation on his cheek and the whispered murmur by his ear blurred the lines between humans and merfolk in Lu Xie’s heart. He still harbored doubts about Hai San’er’s words, but a strange melancholy weighed on him.

“Being human isn’t so great. Humans aren’t inherently kind-hearted creatures. The most despicable beings in this world are humans.”

Including himself.

“It doesn’t matter if other creatures are good or bad. What matters is that I know you’re good.” Hai San’er tightened his embrace around Lu Xie.

The silence of the deep sea was devoid of echoes, leaving no traces in the memories of any living being. This was why merfolk longed to come ashore and become human. Even if it was risky, they wanted to try.

Meeting Lu Xie, Hai San’er felt luckier than most merfolk. Unable to resist, he kissed Lu Xie’s cheek. When Lu Xie didn’t pull away, he grew bolder, letting his lips trail from the cheek toward Lu Xie’s lips. Just as they were about to touch, Lu Xie’s hand suddenly covered Hai San’er’s mouth.

Lu Xie raised his eyelids, his gaze sharp. “If you’re going to make up a story, at least make it believable. I remember a certain fish saying that pearls only grow through parental love. In your story, if those fish can’t even remember the merfolk, how could they show love to the pearls?”

Hai San’er blinked his big, innocent eyes and pried Lu Xie’s hand away. “Isn’t every mating filled with love?”

Lu Xie’s mouth twitched. This really was an ignorant creature. To Hai San’er, mating equaled love. So pearls grew through such a process? Naivety aside, this was indecent to the extreme.

“Can we mate now?” Hai San’er placed Lu Xie’s hand on his chest. “I just kissed you, and now I can sense your heart beating so fast.”

Hai San’er’s bluntness about courtship was as casual as discussing a meal. Lu Xie ignored him. “Didn’t you say pearls grow more beautiful after every mating? We haven’t mated, yet it’s still transforming.”

“That’s because it’s already developed sensory abilities. Aside from mating, my emotions also influence it. I’m happy every day because I’m with you.”

Despite the arguments and even the beatings he endured to meet Lu Xie, Hai San’er couldn’t hide his joy at seeing him. He liked being around Lu Xie, liked spending time with him, liked Lu Xie himself.

The lingering warmth of Lu Xie’s cheek still clung to his lips. Hai San’er’s breathing quickened, his urgency growing as he leaned closer, trying to hug Lu Xie again. “We haven’t mated in a long time. Can we mate now?”

Male merfolk were no different from human men; their eyes and demeanor changed drastically during heat. Hai San’er’s pupils dilated, and his scent grew warmer and more restless.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt for being a mermaid, Lu Xie reluctantly forgave Hai San’er’s tactlessness. He pointed at Hai San’er’s nose and warned, “I just told you not to say that word again.”

Hai San’er caught a faint whiff of tobacco from Lu Xie’s fingers. He usually disliked the smell—it was too sharp—but this time, it wasn’t as strong. Failing to catch Lu Xie’s words, Hai San’er nuzzled the pad of his finger with his nose.

Animals had no concept of subtlety. In broad daylight, the sky could fall, and they’d use it as a blanket. Lu Xie, flustered by Hai San’er’s response, jerked his hand away. “If you’re that desperate, I’ll go fish a female out of the sea for you.”

Hai San’er replied candidly, “I don’t want another fish. I only want you.”