Don't Sleep

When Lu Wenchao woke up, the pillow was piled with wet towels, candy wrappers, a small handful of seaweed, and two terrified-looking dried fish.

He stared at those two dried fish for a few seconds, wondering if he hadn't actually woken up but had been poisoned into some absurd dream by the Silver Hook toxin.

Shanhu was asleep at the edge of the bed, still clutching half a thermometer in her hand. Xiaoman sat nearby dozing off, head bobbing, holding a comic book in her arms. Jiang Yue was boiling seaweed soup by the stove, the bitter smell in the room thick enough to knock someone out again.

The moment Lu Wenchao moved, Shanhu woke instantly.

Her eyes lit up, and she opened her mouth: "Lu Wen—"

The rest of the sound shattered, leaving only a faint rasp.

Lu Wenchao's face changed.

He pushed himself up, the wound on his shoulder pulling, pain making his vision go dark, but he still checked her throat first.

Jiang Yue set down the soup bowl. "She cut a piece of her song for you."

Lu Wenchao looked at Shanhu.

Shanhu lowered her head and wrote crookedly on a piece of paper: Myself.

"I told you not to sing."

She wrote again: I won't listen today.

Lu Wenchao stared at those words. His anger was doused like a flame by seawater, leaving only pain. He raised his hand to touch her throat, then stopped mid-air.

Shanhu took his hand and placed it on the side of her neck.

There was still a faint vibration there, like an intermittent tide. When she spoke before, her voice always carried a certain brightness of the sea, but now that brightness was chipped.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

She shook her head, then thought for a moment, and nodded.

Xiaoman cried even harder. "She even comforted me, said if she sang fewer lines she wouldn't be off-key."

Shanhu immediately wrote on the paper: I was off-key sometimes anyway.

Lu Wenchao closed his eyes.

"Do you know what this means?"

Shanhu looked down and wrote: I know.

"You don't know."

She paused, then wrote: One less path.

Lu Wenchao's throat tightened.

She picked up a piece of candy and pressed it into his palm. The wrapper was already crumpled—the same cheap fruit candy she had given him at the harbor. She wrote again on the paper: Live a little longer.

Lu Wenchao clenched the candy in his hand, his voice low and hoarse: "I will take you home."

Shanhu looked at him and slowly wrote: You need to go home too.

She wrote those words very slowly. She had only just learned human writing, the strokes crooked and uneven, but Lu Wenchao stared at them for a long time.

Jiang Yue came over with a bowl of seaweed soup. "Drink first."

Lu Wenchao frowned. "What is this?"

"Your life."

Shanhu's eyes lit up, and she immediately wrote on the paper: It tastes terrible.

Jiang Yue glared at her. "You can't talk right now, but that doesn't mean you can't be scolded."

Xiaoman wiped his tears and laughed.

Lu Wenchao took a sip, his face rarely twisting. Shanhu nodded earnestly beside him, indicating that she hadn't lied. The atmosphere in the room finally stopped feeling like a string pulled to its limit.

But the relief lasted only a moment.

Jiang Yue took out an old tape recorder from the bottom of a cabinet. The cassette tape was yellowed, with handwriting on it that read "Lu Qi." When Lu Wenchao saw those two characters, the soup bowl in his hand froze mid-air.

"I wasn't planning to give this to you," Jiang Yue said. "But you've already come this far."

Lu Wenchao's voice was hoarse. "When was this?"

"Ten years ago. He left it in the lighthouse the night before he went to the Fissure Tide."

The recorder clicked and began to turn.

After the sound of sea wind and static, Lu Qi's voice came through from ten years ago.

"Wenchao, if you're hearing this recording, it means I didn't make it back in time."

Lu Wenchao's fingers slowly tightened.

Lu Qi coughed on the recording, as if standing in a strong wind.

"Remember, it wasn't the mermaids who did the killing. The one who really wants to open the Fissure Tide is the Hunters' Guild of White Whale Town. Bai Lingzhu has been experimenting with Mermaid Remnant Song. She believes the Fissure Tide can reverse aging, and that as long as there is a complete enough Tide Guardian Song, the door can be opened."

Xiaoman asked quietly, "Bai Lingzhu?"

Jiang Yue looked out the window. "Madam Bai's real name."

The recording continued.

"If the Guild tells you I was dragged into the sea by mermaids, don't believe it. I went down myself. The Fissure Tide has already awakened, and someone has to stay by the door. The Tide Guardians helped me. The mermaids are not enemies. Wenchao, don't take my hook, and don't repay my debts."

Lu Wenchao lowered his head.

But he had already taken it.

Taken the Silver Hook, taken the debts, taken the ten years of rage aimed in the wrong direction.

Shanhu held his hand.

She couldn't speak, so she gently tapped his palm with her fingers, once, twice, like someone knocking on a door at the bottom of the sea.

At the end of the recording, Lu Qi's voice was torn apart by the sea wind.

"If one day, a young Tide Guardian comes ashore, don't hand her over to Bai Lingzhu. Send her back to the sea. And—"

The tape stuttered.

The recorder crackled, and Lu Qi's last words finally pushed through.

"Don't let her stay in my place."

No one spoke in the room.

Shanhu lowered her head to write. She wrote very slowly, the paper slightly torn by the tip of the pen.

She wrote: He's waiting for you.

Lu Wenchao stared at those words, his eyes faintly red.

Outside the window, the tide crashed against the rocks. The pocket watch on his chest chimed once.

Click.

Like words left unfinished ten years ago, finally starting to count time again.