This was the seventh day since Li Leyou had crossed into this world.
Although she had heard from Anla, Grandma Su Wei, Grandpa He Ping, and even Laomu himself more than once that he was about to die, after learning just how long merfolk could live, she had assumed that “soon” still meant quite a long time.
At least three months, maybe even half a year?
She had never imagined it would mean a matter of days.
Because Laomu himself didn’t look like someone who was about to die at all. He was far too calm.
Li Leyou followed him into the crowd, his hand still holding hers.
“Most of the people you met in the sea back then are no longer around. Some of those who are still alive couldn’t make it back to see me off. But since you don’t remember them anyway, it doesn’t matter. You can simply get to know them again.”
“Most of the ones here were born after we came to land. This is Haixia. She’s still young, but she’s quite capable.”
Haixia’s hair was a brighter shade of blue-green. Such a highly saturated color should have looked strange, but her beauty was striking enough to make it work. Her long blue-green hair fell over her shoulders like seaweed, leaving an unforgettable impression at first glance.
She was extremely respectful toward Laomu and was equally friendly toward the woman he had brought with him.
“Hello, I’m Haixia. I’ve already heard about you from Laomu. Do you like gemstones?”
“I manage the deep-sea gemstone mining business, and I also run several jewelry companies. Next time, I’ll take you to pick out some pieces. Your black hair would look beautiful with blue and green gemstones.”
Li Leyou was still processing the news that Laomu was going to die today. Her reactions were sluggish, and it took her a while to force a smile.
“Huh? Okay.”
Honestly, she hadn’t even heard most of what Haixia had said.
Laomu held her hand and said to Haixia, “Yellow gemstones suit her better. Purple and red would look good too.”
Haixia smiled. “All right. If that’s what Laomu says, then I’ll make sure to give her plenty of purple, red, and yellow gemstones.”
Laomu then led the distracted Li Leyou to another merfolk.
“This is Haize. He’s about the same age as Haixia and currently manages Xinghai City.”
Haize looked colder and more aloof, but he still lowered his head slightly as he spoke to them.
“Compared to Laomu, I’m still weak. But I’m already capable of protecting our people. You’ll probably be living in Xinghai City in the future. If you ever run into trouble, you can come to me.”
Li Leyou suddenly realized what Laomu was doing.
He was making arrangements for her after he was gone.
He was practically arranging her future life at his own funeral.
Just because she looked like his former lover, could he really go this far for her?
Did he truly believe she was his former lover?
But after spending the past few days with him, she could tell that he was perfectly lucid. He didn’t seem to have dementia at all.
He must have realized by now that she was different from the person in his memories.
So why hadn’t his attitude toward her changed?
Li Leyou couldn’t understand.
And she felt guilty.
More importantly, she suddenly wanted to cry.
There were so many merfolk here. Every single one of them was closer to Laomu than she was, yet when faced with his impending death, they remained so calm, even smiling as they talked.
And yet she, an outsider who was supposedly nothing more than his “replacement,” was the one who couldn’t hold herself together.
Once the reality that Laomu was going to die today finally sank in, she couldn’t stop her tears.
She lowered her head, desperately trying to hold them back. She didn’t want to look out of place here or become the center of attention with some ridiculous crying scene.
But it was useless.
She finally stopped walking and forcefully pulled her hand out of Laomu’s.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she said, her voice thick with tears.
She hurried through the crowd and ducked into a secluded corridor.
Then she slipped out through a side door, crossed a flower bed filled with purple irises, and crouched beneath an acacia tree. Hugging her knees, she began to cry quietly while awkwardly searching herself for tissues.
Laomu came over carrying a large pack of tissues and sat down beside her.
Li Leyou took them and wiped her tears. She lowered her head, using her hair to hide her face while trying to blow her nose as quietly as possible.
“Didn’t you say you don’t remember me? Then why are you so sad about my death?”
“……”
Laomu looked at his sobbing lover beside him and reached out to stroke her hair.
Yes.
Even if she had forgotten him, she had to remember him again—deeply and completely.
She had to cry over his death more than anyone else, just as he had once held her dead body inside a giant clam, his grief turning into tears that soaked them both. He had even considered sinking into eternal sleep beside her.
Compared to that, this wasn’t enough.
You aren’t sad enough.
“I can’t bear to see you this heartbroken over me,” Laomu said, completely contradicting what he was thinking.
He gently brushed the hair away from Li Leyou’s face.
“You’re crying so pitifully. How could I possibly leave for the sea in peace?”
Cry more for me.
Let your tears fall into the ocean and part the waves for my heavy tail.
Let your sobs become my requiem, washing away the wounds that still ache inside me and sending me into a peaceful death without hatred.
Just as he expected, after hearing those words, Li Leyou cried even harder.
Even when he pulled her into his arms, she didn’t resist.
Cry. Show me more pain. Then I’ll be satisfied enough not to want to take you with me.
Laomu let his lover lean against him while he leaned against her in return, quietly absorbing the warmth from her body.
Her body temperature had always been slightly warmer than his.
At first, he had been unaccustomed to the warmth of her body compared with the coolness of seawater. But after losing her, even the familiar ocean had begun to feel colder than before.
Li Leyou didn’t cry for long.
She soon started feeling embarrassed.
Quietly, she performed what could only be described as a “cicada escaping its shell” maneuver and slipped out of Laomu’s embrace.
“You can go do whatever you need to do. Don’t worry about me.”
After all, she wasn’t the main character of today’s funeral.
“But on my last day, I want to stay by your side the whole time,” Laomu said.
The waves were unusually high that day. Several times, they surged all the way up to the castle gardens.
Perhaps even the sea could sense that one of its merfolk was returning and was eagerly waiting to welcome home the child who had been away for so many years.
After washing her face, Li Leyou returned to the hall.
The merfolk were still gathered there, speaking softly among themselves.
Although they were all members of the same race, they didn’t seem to actually live together. They only gathered for major occasions like this, and even then, they weren’t overly affectionate. A certain distance remained between them.
Laomu continued introducing Li Leyou to everyone.
Then he looked around the hall and asked Grandpa He Ping, who was standing near the door:
“Has Anla not arrived?”
“I contacted him already. He said he’ll be here a little later.”
Laomu nodded.
Among so many unfamiliar merfolk, Li Leyou stayed close behind him.
She kept checking the time. Every time the minute hand moved another notch, her anxiety increased.
“Laomu, when are you… you know…”
Laomu understood what she meant.
“Don’t worry. I can stay with you until sunset.”
As evening approached, the two of them stood by the window. The half-drawn curtains separated them from the bustling hall outside.
Laomu pointed toward the ocean.
“I’ll enter the sea from here. My people will accompany me to that part of the ocean.”
He looked at her.
“Do you want to come with us?”
Li Leyou nodded.
Laomu chuckled.
“Then stay behind them when the time comes. You swim so slowly, so don’t get left behind.”
Li Leyou hesitated.
“Do I really have to swim there? Can’t I take a boat? The problem is… I don’t have a tail, and I’m not very good at swimming.”
The smile on Laomu’s face suddenly froze.
“…Why did you say you don’t have a tail?”
Although there had always been a mixture of human and merfolk scents on her, nothing about that had ever changed.
He had always known that she was a special existence.
But how could she not know that she had a fish tail?
“I don’t have a tail,” Li Leyou said. “Should I have one? I thought I was human.”
She was beginning to doubt herself because of him.
“Anla brought me here from a laboratory. Wasn’t that a human experimentation laboratory?”
In just those two sentences, Laomu gathered a tremendous amount of information.
And suddenly, everything clicked.
After meeting Li Leyou again, he had never investigated how she had returned.
Partly because she had looked troubled whenever he asked about it.
But more importantly, he had thought those things no longer mattered to him.
Now, he realized he had been wrong about something.
The Li Leyou standing before him didn’t know him.
She believed she was human, not a mermaid.
She didn’t know she carried the scent of a mermaid.
She didn’t know she had a fish tail.
The gentle, vulnerable, melancholic expression that had appeared on Laomu’s face so often over the past few days shattered instantly, like a sheet of paper being torn apart.
Something savage lay beneath it.
BOOM!
A massive wave slammed against the window beside them, water cascading down the glass like a waterfall.
“Ah!”
Li Leyou jumped backward in fright.
Laomu’s expression became terrifying.
“I understand now. I know what happened. I was wrong.”
Li Leyou’s eyes widened as her heart pounded.
What?
Had he finally realized that she wasn’t the lover he remembered?
Had he figured out that she had been pretending to be someone else?
She instinctively took another frightened step backward.
“You didn’t forget me.”
His voice trembled.
“You simply… haven’t met me yet.”
Another wave crashed against the window. The glass shook like thunder, drowning out his words.
Li Leyou couldn’t hear what he had said.
She only saw his lips move before he stepped forward, closing the distance between them again.
His expression was complicated and strange, overflowing with emotions she couldn’t understand.
But she could tell that he was extremely agitated.
His hand gripped her wrist, tightening and loosening repeatedly.
“Li Leyou… Li Leyou…”
“W-what is it?”
“Do you want to meet me?”
Laomu lowered his head and leaned closer.
“Isn’t that what already happened?”
Li Leyou genuinely couldn’t understand what was going on anymore.
A third wave crashed against the window.
Outside, the clear sky had suddenly darkened beneath a mass of storm clouds.
Li Leyou was pushed back against the window as Laomu trapped her between himself and the glass.
In front of her was Laomu, who looked as though he wanted to pull her completely into his arms.
Behind her, the glass kept trembling beneath the relentless waves.
Her head was buzzing.
“Mo ye ka ha nie laomu.”
Amid the roar of the waves, Laomu repeated the words twice.
“If one day you find yourself in danger, call out to the sea—mo ye ka ha nie laomu.”
“But remember this: the moment you choose to say those words, you are choosing to meet me.”
Li Leyou looked utterly miserable.
She had always been terrible at reading comprehension. She’d even gotten zero marks before.
There was absolutely no way she could figure out what this was supposed to mean.
“Could you explain it a little more clearly? I don’t think I understand—ouch!”
Before she could finish, Laomu had already pulled her toward the hall.
He dragged her over to He Ping and said:
“Make the arrangements immediately. Send her away from here. She will not take part in anything that happens next.”
He Ping was stunned.
He had no idea why Laomu had suddenly changed his mind.
“But what about your previous arrangements?”
“Everything else stays the same. She simply won’t take part in my death ceremony.”
Laomu gave Li Leyou one deep, lingering look before releasing her hand and turning toward the crowd.
“Why? Wait!”
In her panic, Li Leyou grabbed his clothes, suddenly feeling inexplicably wronged.
“I know I’m not your lover, but I never meant to deceive you! I just wanted to survive. Before—”
Laomu turned back and interrupted her.
“You really are an idiot.”
Li Leyou stared at him.
“?”
Did he really just insult me that bluntly?
“You could never be anything other than my lover.”
Laomu’s voice was calm but firm.
“Of course you’re my beloved.”
No matter how long the longing had lasted, no matter how much pain he had endured, neither had been enough to extinguish this love.
He gently pulled Li Leyou’s hand away and gestured toward He Ping.
“It’s almost time. I have to prepare. Send her away from these waters immediately.”