Chapter Eleven

When Ani returned to the starship, the staff were beside themselves with excitement.

Her eyes sparkled, as if she were struggling to suppress a thousand words, and she strove to maintain her professional composure as she said, “This is… truly unexpected, unparalleled. The organizers have already transferred the prize money to your account, and I’m here to take you home.”

Her previously barren account now displayed a neat, gleaming row of zeros.

Ani stared at her star network balance for a long while, a smile curling on her lips. She began happily plotting a trip to the most expensive restaurant in District Eight—yes, she’d go with Lin. That was the standard courtship ritual among humans.

She paid no attention to the tidal wave of heated discussion raging across the star network. Back in District Eight, still clad in her bloodstained, torn combat uniform and clutching a simple bouquet, she appeared at Lin’s door without delay.

Ani gathered her thoughts for what she meant to say, and had just lifted her hand to enter the passcode when the door opened. Her teacher stood there in casual clothes.

He looked as if he hadn’t slept well, his eyes faintly red. Lin gazed at her, lips parting as if to speak, but before any sound emerged, Ani threw herself into his arms, circling his waist in a fierce embrace.

She didn’t hold back, and Lin staggered a few steps, his back pressing up against the edge of the bar.

“Teacher,” she murmured by his ear, “I missed you.”

Little liar, Lin thought quietly. He patted Ani’s shoulder. “Should I congratulate you? Fine, congratulations. Go take a shower.”

Ani stuffed the bouquet into his arms and hummed her way toward the bathroom. Lin glanced down at the flowers, frowning instinctively. In District Three’s rotting, muddy earth, only tough yet fragile wildflowers could grow—not fragrant, nor especially beautiful.

What do I want with these things? he thought. They’re hideous. I ought to find a trash bin and throw them away.

Yet the wildflowers found their way into a glass vase he’d picked out.

Lin didn’t sleep that night. Not long after Ani spoke those words, his family communications lit up one after another. His father, livid, threatened to sever ties.

Lin listened passively, offering no opposition to his father’s decision. The more furious his father grew, the more he seemed to lose control, demanding, “Don’t you want to become a dragon? Don’t you want to conquer the stars, to claim the gene evolution serum? Even your human girlfriend is far more promising than you! At least she can put your brother in his place, while you only endure!”

The fox mask, top of the class, pale blue hair, the proud and haughty noble.

That was his brother. The relationship between them was tense to the point of mutual loathing—more accurately, Liu had always wanted him dead. From childhood, Liu had trusted his elders implicitly, raised to be combative according to the Blue Dragon family tradition. Having such a brother, one who sullied the family’s name by entangling with an outsider, must have struck Liu as utterly shameful.

“That’s not my—” Lin paused, realizing clarifications were pointless. “You are truly broad-minded.”

The other man let out a cold laugh. “She confessed her feelings for you in front of thousands. Do you think that’s sincere? Outlanders are always devious, and she is a selected warrior—she’ll be sent on a hunting ground assignment in as little as a month, at most half a year, after which she’ll leave Hailan Star. And you—will never see her again. When that time comes, don’t come crawling to me with the reputation of a traitor to the sea people. You are no longer my son!”

The call ended.

All in all, Ani was truly a troublemaker.

Lin rubbed his brow, lowering his head to compose himself. Echoes of last night’s conversation flickered through his mind. As he closed his eyes, a wet, supple hand cupped his cheek.

Merfolk could sense the scent of their own kind; it was a sort of pheromone, perhaps, with a calming effect. He opened his eyes to find Ani, now in her merfolk form, right in front of him. She had just bathed, her body shimmering with moisture, eyes fixed intently on his.

Lin froze, looking away. “What are you doing…”

“Teacher,” Ani complained, “Your attitude toward your own kind and toward humans is completely different. You’re playing favorites.” As she spoke, she took advantage of this favoritism, her fingers gently tracing his lips.

Lin caught her wrist, brow furrowing. “Your mimicry evolved, didn’t it? Even your scent…”

“Yes, I’ve perfected the technique, since I understand merfolk so well.” She lowered her head, her forked tongue flickering out like a serpent’s, softly lapping at his reddened lips.

It was as if something struck his chest with force. His throat tightened involuntarily. Ani broke free from his grip, her hand gliding to the white coral bone at his ear, kneading the coral-shaped cartilage until it flushed faintly pink.

He drew in a sharp breath.

The hurried sound of his inhalation excited Ani all the more. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, the forked tip prying open his clenched teeth. Lin immediately gripped her arm, like duckweed adrift in water. He closed his eyes, lashes trembling with panic, the slender, deep blue feathers brushing over her nose.

Ani guided his hand, placing his fingers around her waist.

What he touched was not human skin, but the taut abdominal muscles and sleek waistline of a female merfolk.

Her mimicry had reached flawless perfection. Ani had even mastered the merfolk’s unique gesture of comfort, softly tracing his palm with her fingertip, her forked tongue delving deeper into his throat.

Suddenly, Lin hugged her, his whole body shuddering with a violent reaction. He opened his eyes to see her damp white hair spilling around him, the ceiling light filtered through her tresses, flooding his pupils through the strands.

She smelled wonderful, a familiar scent of shower gel mingled with something mysterious. Lin was forced to swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and after half a minute, Ani let him go. “Shall we… take this to the water?”

Lin relaxed, leaning his head back to gaze at the bright ceiling light. “…You. You truly haven’t left me any room to retreat.”

“I thought you’d already accepted me,” Ani cooed. “I won’t make you angry again, I promise. And… I’ll make you feel like you’re with your own kind. It’ll be smooth and comfortable, not unpleasant. Teacher—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh,” she replied pitifully, “But you’re my boyfriend—what we’re doing is perfectly normal, isn’t it?”

“Who’s your boyfriend, you kidnapper… you—” Lin muttered, “I’ll hate you for the rest of my life.”

Ani picked him up.

Carrying him in her merfolk form was the most natural thing in the world. Lin seemed to have forgotten to resist.

Gentle waves lapped over skin.

Her kisses became marks, claiming the instincts he should have fought. Maybe her mimicry was too convincing, maybe her deception had grown more sophisticated, or perhaps she had simply learned the art of clumsy coquettishness. Even Ani herself hadn’t expected Lin’s resistance to be so fragile, so fleeting, like bubbles rising from the depths.

Their tails tangled beneath the water.

Scales glided slowly by. When Ani sensed the difference in him from before, a vague hallucination rang in her mind, like the snapping of a lock. Her teacher was especially cooperative, allowing her to probe deeper, until the real tentacles from her own body slipped from her waist and twined around him.

Lin seemed to notice, but he said nothing. He held Ani tightly, almost painfully so, his body trembling, bubbles spilling from him underwater.

He was deeply unsettled. As Ani explored the merfolk anatomy, Lin bit her shoulder, unable to restrain himself. The taste of blood cleared his mind for a fleeting moment—only a moment—before he closed his eyes again, surrendering to a delirium of dissection and torment.

He knew he was merely Ani’s research subject.

A curious mimic by nature, deceiving and coaxing him, conducting a ruthless cross-species dissection.

He understood everything. Ani’s deception was not subtle, they had met too early, been too honest, leaving him no room for self-delusion. Lin’s eyes reddened; he endured the torment with difficulty. His voice was so soft, yet still echoed quietly in the silent water.

“Ani,” he said, “You can speak.”

Ani looked up at him. “Teacher, I like you.”

“…” Lin gazed into her eyes.

Ani pressed her cheek to his and added, “Teacher, I love you.”

Lin almost laughed. “You love me?”

“I do,” Ani said. “I like the sound of your footsteps late at night when you come to turn off my light, the way you teach me ancient history so seriously, not holding grudges. I even like your resistance, your aversion, your compromises, your hatred, your evasions, and now… your difficult endurance. I love all of it. I love you.”

Lin looked at her for a long moment, then said, “Go on, Ani.”

Her hand slipped into his long blue hair, and she nestled once more into his warm embrace. She tasted him, studied everything with care, desecrating him gently and thoroughly.

On that quiet night, the doctrine of pure bloodlines and forbidden unions was trampled over and over again.

Her teacher didn’t sleep all night. At some point, perhaps from exhaustion or sleepiness, he fell asleep on Ani’s shoulder. When Lin awoke again, she was still holding him securely, this time in the bathtub.

He looked down in confusion, seeing his silver tail covered in sticky pink liquid, nearly soaked through with nectar-like substance, drops of pink honey dripping from the tip.

His throat tightened, his expression changing instantly. “Ani… cough… cough…”

The moment he spoke, his throat rasped painfully, a strange sensation rising up. Lin choked, tasting something incredibly sweet. He raised his hand to his mouth and coughed up more of the same pink substance.

What on earth—

The guilty tentacles had already withdrawn into Ani’s body. She dutifully washed his tail and reminded him, “Don’t speak yet. Just swallow it.”

“Swallow it?” he repeated accusingly, feeling as if he’d been drowned, like a vessel filled with honey.

Ani lowered her head and kissed him, her eyes curving. “Please, just swallow it.”

Lin’s temple throbbed. He covered his head and swam out of the tub and onto the floor.

Ani watched as his tail turned into legs, silently counting down, three, two… Before she finished, as expected, he failed to stand. She caught him in her arms, seeing the pink trails winding and dripping to the floor.

Lin buried his face in her embrace, silent for a long time. At last, he took a breath and gritted his teeth. “Why don’t you just kill me.”

She was embarrassed. “Teacher, don’t say things like that. Next time, I’ll… try harder?”

Lin bit her, but it did no real harm; Ani only responded with a gentle kiss.

She seemed to truly see them as a couple.

Ani studied the “Love Manual” in depth. In the days that followed, she devoted herself to romance with the same focus she once gave her studies. They spent every day together, going out on all sorts of dates. Ani spent lavishly on gifts, surprises, and learned the world’s silliest, most saccharine love lines.

Lin was always with her, sometimes simply watching, sometimes smiling. He never said what he was thinking.

Their relationship was open and aboveboard. Within the merfolk community, public opinion grew ever more heated. The principal had no choice but to dismiss Lin, yet he accepted it with quiet calm. Paradoxically, because of Ani’s identity and achievements, many human organizations reached out to him, hoping to connect with a human warrior through him.

Lin refused all these generous offers. This time, he moved in with her; Ani arranged everything meticulously, turning the bouquet from her confession into a preserved flower and placing it in the most prominent spot in the living room.

Lin often found himself staring at it in a daze.

When they were alone, Ani always appeared in her merfolk form. One day, as she used her merfolk claws to sharpen a pencil, she heard Lin call from the couch, “Ani?”

“Mm?” She looked up. “What is it?”

“Haven’t you learned it yet?” He glanced at the new romance novel on her lap.

Ani thought for a moment. “I can simulate a little, but not completely. It’s not a trait—it’s a sickness.”

“What?”

“Love,” Ani replied. “Love is a kind of sickness. Now we’re both so ill, it’s like a mountain collapsing on us.”

Lin looked at her, smiling, and couldn’t help but sigh. “Nonsense.”

But as he spoke, his eyes shone as if with tears. Ani didn’t see it clearly—when she blinked, it was already gone.