Father Under the Sea

On the way to the abandoned dock, Coral was very quiet.

Lu Wenchao wasn't used to it.

Normally she would ask why streetlights stand guard, whether trash cans are hungry, and whether bus stops get sad when no bus comes. Now she just clutched the message in a bottle, her fingertips pale. The paper inside the bottle was already wrinkled, and that curved symbol stuck to the inside of the glass, like a little seahorse with closed eyes.

"Scared?" Lu Wenchao asked.

"Mm."

"Then don't go."

"I'm scared, but I still have to go." Coral looked at him. "Were you scared when you saved me?"

Lu Wenchao didn't answer.

Of course he was.

From the moment he burned the transfer slip, from the moment he crossed out his hunter number, from the moment he realized he no longer wanted to hand her over—he had been scared all along. It was just that he was used to hiding it, behind a cold face, behind orders, between "shut up" and "stay close to me."

But Coral could always hear what he hid away.

The abandoned dock was at the northernmost part of White Whale Town, once a mooring spot for smuggling ships. Old warehouses stood in rows amid the rain and fog, their tin roofs peeled back at the corners by the sea wind, like a cluster of battered fish scales. Lu Wenchao led Coral around to the back, using the shadow of a derelict ship to approach.

There was light in the warehouse.

Xiaoman was tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth, tears streaming. When she saw Coral, she shook her head desperately, the chair legs scraping against the floor with a harsh sound.

"She's saying don't come," Coral whispered.

"I know." Lu Wenchao drew his silver hook. "So stay behind me."

"But I want to stand in front for once."

Lu Wenchao glanced at her.

She still tripped over her own shoes, still turned pale at the sight of hunter lights, still had her tail scales dim after being rejected by the Sea Gate—yet she said she wanted to stand in front for once.

"Standing in front isn't a good thing," he said.

"But standing in the back forever isn't either."

The warehouse ceiling lights blazed on.

Qin Yan stepped out from behind a cargo crate, toying with a blue scale in his hand. It was the same scale he had picked up outside the guild. Its glow had dimmed slightly from before, but it still radiated warmth between his fingers.

"How touching." Qin Yan smiled. "Prey, hunter, and an innocent little girl caught in the middle. If Madam Bai could see this, she might set up a display case for you all."

Xiaoman let out angry muffled cries.

Coral said seriously, "She says you're very bad."

Qin Yan's smile froze.

Seizing the moment, Lu Wenchao kicked over a crate and charged toward Xiaoman. Silver hooks clashed, throwing sparks. Qin Yan was faster than before—he knew every one of Lu Wenchao's openings, and all his weaknesses too.

"You still like rescuing people first," Qin Yan parried his hook. "That's why you always lose."

"You still talk too much."

"Because you actually listen."

The two fought between the crates. Coral couldn't fight, but she could hear water. Beneath the warehouse floor was an old drainage channel; the sound of water was muffled by the wooden boards, like little fish with their mouths gagged. She looked around and spotted a bucket of seawater in the corner—probably prepared by Madam Bai to keep her from dehydrating.

She ran over and pushed the bucket.

It was very heavy.

She pushed once. It didn't budge.

She gritted her teeth and pushed again, her shoes slipping, her whole body nearly lurching forward. Xiaoman shook her head frantically. Lu Wenchao was pinned down by Qin Yan and couldn't break free.

Suddenly Coral remembered Chapter 5... no, she didn't know it was called Chapter 5 yet. She remembered what Lu Wenchao said when he taught her to walk—that a lot of protection hurts.

She raised her foot and kicked the bucket.

Her toes hurt so much tears nearly spilled, but the bucket finally tipped over. The seawater seeped through the floorboards and rushed into the drainage channel. The pressure of the water pushed open the sluice gate mechanism, and the iron buckle at the foot of Xiaoman's chair snapped open with a pop.

Xiaoman fell over, chair and all, the cloth gag tumbling from her mouth.

"I knew you'd come!" she cried. "The wall! On the wall is the auction seating chart!"

Coral turned her head.

The warehouse wall was covered in drawings of church seats, with a pearl eardrop drawn at the center. The seats were divided into three levels. At the top was written "VIP Viewing Area," in the middle "Song Extraction Platform," and at the very bottom was drawn a water tank.

Inside the water tank was the silhouette of a nameless mermaid.

Coral's face went pale.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Qin Yan swung his hook. A flash of silver grazed Lu Wenchao's shoulder and aimed straight for Coral. Lu Wenchao turned back a moment too late.

The tip of the hook sliced off a scale from Coral's shoulder.

Pain didn't start from the wound—it exploded from her throat. Coral's vision went dark, and all the sounds of water around her turned chaotic. She heard Xiaoman scream, heard Lu Wenchao call her name, and heard the scale that had been cut off emit a faint weeping sound in Qin Yan's hand.

She fell to her knees.

Lu Wenchao's expression changed instantly.

He reversed his grip, locked onto Qin Yan, and pressed his silver hook against the other man's throat. In that moment, he didn't look like the hunter who always hid his emotions—he looked more like a blade finally drawn from its sheath.

"Touch her again."

But Qin Yan smiled.

He smiled even with the silver hook against his throat.

"You're finished, Wenchao."

Lu Wenchao's gaze turned icy black.

Qin Yan said in a low voice, "You've fallen for her. Madam Bai knows exactly how to use that."

Outside the warehouse, alarms blared.

Car headlights swept across the broken windows one by one, illuminating the auction seating chart on the wall. In the distance came the sound of high heels landing on the ground, unhurried.

Madam Bai's convoy had already arrived at the port.

Coral clutched her shoulder wound and looked up at Lu Wenchao. She was in too much pain to speak, but she still looked at his hand first.

The silver hook pressed against Qin Yan's throat—just a little more and it would cut through.

She reached out her wet hand and gently tugged at Lu Wenchao's sleeve.

"Don't," she said, her voice trembling. "Your red water... don't let it spill for him."

Lu Wenchao's hand froze.

Qin Yan's eyes gleamed with even deeper amusement.

From outside the warehouse door, Madam Bai's gentle voice rang out: "Darling, I've come to pick up my little mermaid."