She Sang the Wrong Song

Coral only learned later that humans call singing the wrong song an "accident."

But in the sea, singing the wrong song only summons the wrong kind of fish. When she was little, for example, she tried to call a group of seahorses to play with her, but her tune twisted halfway and woke up a grumpy octopus instead. It chased her with all eight arms for an entire tide cycle. In the end, her grandmother had to pull her out of a coral crevice, patted her tail, and said: "A song isn't a shell. You can't just toss it anywhere."

That night, when every light in the underground aquarium shattered, Coral only thought she had sung something wrong again.

Lu Wenchao clearly did not agree.

Only two backup lamps remained, splitting the underground pool into halves of gray and black. Xiaoman had been shooed out, but before leaving, he pressed himself against the door crack and whispered to Coral: "Miss Mermaid, don't be scared. Brother Lu might have a sour face, but he doesn't eat fish."

The door was slammed shut by Lu Wenchao.

Coral turned to look at him. "Do you eat fish?"

"Yes."

She immediately hugged her tail, swift and practiced.

Lu Wenchao was silent for two seconds. "Not the ones that talk."

"Then the ones that don't talk are pitiful."

"Pity yourself first." He twisted the lock twice, then tucked the surveillance tablet into the inner pocket of his trench coat. "That song just now—who taught it to you?"

Coral floated in the water. Her scarf was soaked through, draped over the pool's edge like a defeated strand of gray seaweed. She knew Lu Wenchao was asking about Lu Qi, and she knew that name changed him. On the boat, just now when he watched the surveillance footage—every time he mentioned Lu Qi, he seemed to seal himself inside an invisible glass bottle.

"A sleeping man," she said.

"Lu Qi?"

"Mm. He's always in very dark places. When I passed by, he talked in his sleep. Sometimes clearly, sometimes like his mouth was full of sea sand."

Lu Wenchao walked over and crouched by the pool. He was so close that Coral could see the water droplets still clinging to his eyelashes, and the old scar on the web of his left hand turning white from tension.

"What did he say?"

Coral lowered her voice, imitating the sound in her memory: "Don't let the Splitting Tide be heard in White Whale Town again."

The basement fell silent except for the hum of the filter.

That sound was usually like a big fish trapped in an iron box, but now it seemed distant. Lu Wenchao's fingers pressed against the pool's edge, his knuckles growing pale. Coral watched him and suddenly regretted speaking so quickly.

She swam closer and offered him her wet scarf.

"Do you need to wipe your eyes?"

"I'm not crying."

"I didn't say you were crying."

"..."

He took the scarf, his expression souring further. Coral thought humans were truly strange. They wouldn't admit when they were sad, wouldn't admit when they were cold, and even when they clearly held the sound of the tide in their hands, they claimed they couldn't hear a thing.

"Is Lu Qi someone very important to you?" she asked.

Lu Wenchao didn't answer right away. He looked down at the water's surface, which reflected a cold, indifferent face—like a tightly shut door. Behind the door there might be wind, rain, and many old human stories she couldn't understand.

"He's my father."

Coral realized. "Then he's your old fish."

Lu Wenchao looked up.

She quickly corrected herself: "Old father."

He probably wanted to scold her, but in the end, he only wrung the water from the scarf and placed it on an iron chair beside them. Water dripped onto the floor, drop by drop, like a very slow clock.

"When did he teach you that song?"

"When I was still small." Coral hugged her tail, recalling. "Outside Tidewater Bay, there was a very deep trench. Grandmother forbade me from going there, saying there was a Black Tide that ate songs. I once chased a glowing jellyfish too far and ended up there. It was very cold, and the water didn't flow properly—like something had twisted it."

Lu Wenchao's expression shifted.

"And then?"

"Then I heard someone cough," Coral said. "Very softly, like a crab buried in sand. I asked if he was lost. He didn't answer, just hummed a tune. I asked his name, and he slept for a long time before saying, Lu Qi."

Lu Wenchao stared at her. "Why didn't you tell your people?"

"I told Grandmother." Coral lowered her head. "Grandmother said you can't pick up sounds from deep trenches. If you pick them up, you might bring back a door too. Later, she forbade me from going near that place again."

"A door."

"Mm. Many doors." She gestured with her hands. "But no handles. Only the Black Tide squeezing through the gaps. Lu Qi was sleeping inside."

Lu Wenchao stood up and paced a few steps in the cramped basement. He seemed to need to move, or else something in his chest would crush him.

Coral watched him. "Do you want to go find him?"

Lu Wenchao stopped.

The question was too direct—like a fishbone stuck in the throat. He wanted to say no, wanted to say he had already searched everywhere ten years ago, wanted to say this might just be mermaid songcraft, another trap set by Madam White. But Coral looked at him with eyes free of calculation or scheming—only a clean, almost cruel curiosity.

"Yes," he finally said.

Coral nodded. "Then I'll take you."

"You can't even get out of this pool right now."

"Oh." She thought for a moment. "Then you take me out, and I'll take you down."

Lu Wenchao was stumped by her logic.

Seeing he didn't speak, Coral thought she had said something wrong. She fished out the candy Xiaoman had secretly slipped her from the bottom of the pool. The wrapper was wrinkled from the water, but its bright color remained—like a small piece of sun that hadn't completely sunk. She held it up to the edge of the pool.

"For you."

Lu Wenchao looked down. "What?"

"A little sun."

"It's candy."

"Xiaoman said it's edible." Coral pushed the candy forward. "You look very cold right now. Maybe eating it will warm you up."

Lu Wenchao didn't take it.

She thought for a moment, then added very seriously: "If it's poisoned, I can eat half first."

"Don't eat random things."

"Then will you eat?"

Lu Wenchao was worn down by her persistence. He took the wet candy, but didn't unwrap it—just put it into his trench coat pocket. Coral looked at that pocket, as if she had sent a small piece of light out into the world, and finally showed a hint of relief.

"When you humans are sad, do you hide sweetness away?"

"No."

"Then why are you hiding it?"

Lu Wenchao paused. "I'll eat it later."

"Later when?"

He looked at her clear eyes in the pool water, lowering his voice: "When you're no longer locked up here."

Coral listened very carefully. She didn't know if Lu Wenchao was making a promise. Human promises weren't like the sea's tides—the tide always returns, but humans always liked to leave a little door open in their words. Still, she was willing to temporarily trust this little sun hidden away in a pocket.

Suddenly, the sound of a card swipe came from outside the door.

Lu Wenchao's expression turned cold instantly. In one step, he was at the pool's edge, pressing Coral back underwater. Coral didn't have time to breathe, and let out two bubbles. She kept her eyes open, trying to be "not scared" like Xiaoman had said.

The door cracked open.

Qin Yan stood outside. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze was as gentle as a bladeless knife. He wore a neatly pressed dark gray uniform, with a silver fishhook-shaped pin on his cuff. His smile was perfectly calibrated.

"Old friend." Qin Yan glanced at Lu Wenchao's hand on the pool's edge. "Madam White sent me to check on the specimen."

"She's asleep," Lu Wenchao said.

Underwater, Coral immediately started trying her best to pretend to sleep. She didn't know if sleeping humans blew bubbles, or if fish should close their eyes when sleeping. After holding it in for a while, she still let out a string of bubbles.

The bubbles floated slowly to the surface.

Qin Yan's gaze followed them.

Lu Wenchao stepped forward, blocking his view. "The specimen attacks light sources when agitated. Want another explosion?"

Qin Yan's smile didn't waver. "Since when did you care so much about the merchandise?"

"If the merchandise dies, we lose money."

"Fair enough." Qin Yan adjusted his glasses. "You've always been good at counting costs. I just wonder whether this time you're counting money, or something else."

Lu Wenchao didn't respond.

Qin Yan looked at the underground pool, his voice softening: "I checked the surveillance footage just now. A segment is missing. Around the time of the lamp explosion, the system got... bitten off by something. Very interesting."

"The equipment is old."

"White Whale Town Aquarium's annual maintenance budget is enough to buy two hunter ships. It's not old." Qin Yan smiled. "Unless someone deleted it."

"You can ask Madam White."

"I certainly will." Before turning away, Qin Yan suddenly stopped. "Wenchao, your father was also very good at making excuses back then."

The air grew cold.

Underwater, Coral felt Lu Wenchao's hand on the pool's edge twitch slightly.

Qin Yan continued as if he hadn't noticed: "He said we couldn't hunt the Tideguard Clan, said the Splitting Tide wasn't a legend, said White Whale Town would pay the price. Every word sounded like a reason. And in the end? He never came back. The Hunter's Guild cleaned up his mess, and you paid his debts."

"Are you done?" Lu Wenchao asked.

"For now." Qin Yan was still smiling. "Keep a good eye on your merchandise. Madam White doesn't like people touching her collection."

The door closed.

Coral surfaced, and her first words were: "Did I look like I was sleeping?"

Lu Wenchao looked at the door. "No. Even a dead fish looks more convincing."

"Dead fish don't blow bubbles."

"Then blow fewer."

Coral covered her mouth. She could tell he was in an even worse mood, so she didn't ask why Qin Yan smiled while stabbing people. Some human words weren't like words—they were like hooks, meant to catch the flesh in someone else's heart.

Lu Wenchao took a set of keys from a cabinet and opened the maintenance door beside the underground pool.

"Come out."

Coral's eyes lit up. "Where are we going?"

"To find someone who can answer questions."

"Someone who can answer about Lu Qi?"

"Maybe."

"Can I bring my scarf?"

"It's mine."

She hugged the scarf tight. "But it's already wet. It's like mine now."

Lu Wenchao looked at her but ultimately didn't take it back.

Leaving the underground pool was harder than Coral had imagined. As she braced herself on the edge and lifted her fish tail out of the water, a fine blue light flowed through the gaps in her scales. The pain wasn't like the piercing sting of a silver net—it was more like her body being forced to remember something it hadn't done in a long time. Her tail fin folded, her scales aligned, and the blue light slid down along her waist, finally transforming into a pair of pale legs.

Coral looked down at them.

She wiggled her toes.

Amazed, she wobbled. "These two little fish don't listen."

"Those are legs."

"Legs." She repeated. "Are legs for swimming?"

"For walking."

"What is walking?"

Lu Wenchao was momentarily at a loss for how to explain.

Coral decided to try it herself. Holding onto the pool's edge, she solemnly lifted her right foot. Her right foot landed smoothly enough, but her left foot seemed to have a mind of its own, slipping sideways.

The next moment, she pitched forward.

Lu Wenchao reached out and caught her.

Coral crashed into his chest, the tip of her nose brushing against his shirt. She smelled rain, sea salt, a trace of blood, and the faint scent of old wood on him. Her hands instinctively grabbed his shoulders, her fingertips touching the skin of his neck—warm.

She looked up. "Is this also a rule of human walking?"

Lu Wenchao's arms went stiff.

"No," he said. "This is you being clumsy."

"It's my first time having legs."

"So even clumsier."

Coral was about to retort when the pocket watch on his chest gave a soft click.

Kach.

The smile slowly faded from her face.

"The door is knocking again."

Lu Wenchao looked down. The watch cover had sprung open on its own. The hand that had been still for ten years was no longer trembling erratically—instead, it turned slowly and steadily toward the basement's north wall.

Behind that wall was no room, only the aquarium's abandoned old exhibition hall. Lu Wenchao knew this because he had come here as a child. That hall had once displayed "White Whale Town Mermaid Legends" before being sealed off after an incident. After that, the aquarium moved everything truly unspeakable underground.

From behind the wall came the faint sound of waves.

But the sea was still three streets away.

Coral steadied herself against Lu Wenchao, her voice very soft: "There's water inside."

"The old exhibition hall is behind the wall."

"No." She shook her head. "It's the water behind the door."

Lu Wenchao closed the watch cover, but it sprang open again.

Kach.

Kach.

Like someone was urging them on.

Footsteps sounded from the far end of the corridor. Qin Yan hadn't gone far.

Lu Wenchao grabbed Coral, draping her arm over his shoulder.

"Stand steady."

"I'll try to make the little fish behave."

"Legs."

"Leg-fish."

"..."

They slipped into the side corridor through the maintenance door. Behind them, the surface of the underground pool stirred without wind. And inside that north wall, it was as if an invisible sea was slowly rising with the tide.The light at the end of the side corridor suddenly flickered twice. Lu Wenchao stopped and pressed Coral against the wall. She still hadn't learned how to lean properly, her whole body going soft against it, nearly sliding down to the floor. Lu Wenchao caught her waist with one hand and switched off the corridor light with the other.

In the darkness, two hunters passed by the corner.

"Sister Qin said something's off about Lu Wenchao."

"When has he ever been right?"

"This time is different. Madam Bai asked her to look up his father's old files."

The footsteps faded away.

Coral pressed against the wall and whispered, "What kind of fish is an old file?"

Lu Wenchao released her. "It's not a fish."

"Then why are they checking on your old father?"

"Because they're afraid the dead will speak."

Coral thought for a moment. "But Lu Qi isn't dead. He's just been asleep for a long time."

Lu Wenchao said nothing. He steadied her again, then tucked one end of his scarf into her hand.

"Hold on."

"Like leading a seahorse?"

"Like keeping you from falling to your death."

Coral gripped the scarf and obediently followed. She didn't know if what lay ahead was an exit or another net. All she knew was that the other end of the scarf was in Lu Wenchao's hand, and that little sun was still in his pocket. For a mermaid who had just learned to walk on legs, that was already a reliable enough guide.