LSDWTWHA chapter 32

Qi Xingli did not give Su Su a chance to refuse and directly sent someone to escort him into Qi Hanyi’s bedroom.

This was Su Su’s second time entering Qi Hanyi’s bedroom.

The bedroom was spacious but felt somewhat empty because of the sparse furniture and overly simple decorations.

Qi Hanyi was lying on the bed, dressed in a training suit. His face was pallid, devoid of color, and his eyes were tightly closed, with his eyeballs slightly moving beneath his eyelids, as if he were experiencing a very unsettled dream.

It had been a few days since Su Su had seen Qi Hanyi. He had seemed fine when he left, but now he lay here in such a weak state. Even without Qi Xingli’s threat, Su Su wanted to help him.

Su Su was a shark who could hold a grudge, but he also remembered kindness; whoever had treated him well, he would find ways to return the favor.

No matter if Qi Hanyi liked him or what he said, he had always provided Su Su with good living conditions and had protected him when trouble came.

But Su Su couldn’t sing; after all, he had only just learned to speak not long ago.

He vaguely remembered that there was a section in his educational chip about singing, but the chip was now buried at the bottom of the sea, so he had to think of another way.

After contemplating for a while, Su Su opened the page of a mermaid streamer, picked the most popular singing and dancing performance, and clicked in.

He tried to ask the streamer for singing techniques, but due to her high popularity, most of the comments were ignored, and only messages with substantial rewards received replies.

Su Su had no money in his account, so after sending a few messages, they sank into the void.

Just as Su Su was about to exit the streaming room to try another method, a private message suddenly popped up in the background: [Are you serious about learning to sing?]

The sender’s username was [Little Lotus], and her profile picture was a selfie of a cute girl with a doll-like face, looking to be under twenty. When she smiled, she had two dimples at the corners of her mouth.

Su Su immediately replied: [Yes.]

[My friend is sick and needs singing to heal.]

[I can’t sing. Can you teach me?]

Little Lotus replied quickly: [Is your friend human? Is it mental force collapse syndrome?]

Su Su was astonished: [How do you know?]

[Because only this illness requires the healing of a mermaid’s song. Didn’t you attend any training courses before you got married? How did you pass the graduation test?] she seemed quite helpless on the other end.

[Are you really a mermaid?]

[What mermaid doesn’t know how to sing?]

Su Su pressed his lips together. Was he exposed so quickly? Are mermaids born able to sing?

[I’m a mermaid hybrid.] Su Su could only answer honestly.

The other side was silent for a few seconds: [No wonder.]

Then she said: [Even if you could sing, it wouldn’t help. Non-differentiated mermaids can’t heal humans with their songs.]

[Why?] Su Su was confused. Did it really depend on whether one was differentiated? Then if he maintained his human appearance, would that be considered differentiated or not?

Little Lotus took about a minute to reply with a long explanation, very detailed: [Mental force collapse simply means that after excessive use of mental force, the vibration frequency becomes chaotic. When a mermaid differentiates for a human, their mental forces will align on the same wave. Singing is meant to enhance resonance, using one’s own mental force to stabilize the other’s frequency.]

[If you’re not differentiated, your mental force cannot mutually influence the other.]

So differentiation was not just about mermaids taking on human appearances, but it also included changes in mental force. Su Su sat dumbfounded on the floor of Qi Hanyi’s bedroom, realizing he had no way to save him.

What to do? He couldn’t save Qi Hanyi; he wouldn’t just die like this, right?

Su Su worryingly bumped his head against the bedside table behind him when suddenly something rolled down from the top and hit the floor beside his feet.

Su Su picked it up; it was a photo.

In the photo stood two people. On the left, a boy who looked about ten years old, with delicate features, and on the right, a handsome man who somewhat resembled Qi Hanyi.

The two were standing in the snow, leaning against a pear tree.

The boy smiled at the camera, holding a model of a starship made of snow, crafted quite realistically, and Su Su could vaguely recognize it as the model of the Silver Dragon starship.

The man had one arm resting on the boy’s shoulder, yet his gaze was directed somewhere off-camera, his expression very gentle.

Was this… a photo of young Qi Hanyi? His features were indeed quite similar; however, young Qi Hanyi appeared much cuter back then, not quite lively but at least with a hint of childish joy in his eyes—nothing like now.

Su Su didn’t know why, but he felt a sense of familiarity, as if he had seen this before, yet the years were too distant for him to recall. Until he noticed the ornament hanging on Qi Hanyi’s chest, which bore a distinctive lion pattern.

Su Su recognized this pattern; it was exactly like that on his cherished chip, the one that taught him countless things and accompanied him for a long time.

Memories seemed to spring forth like a pulled thread, rolling into a pile.

Su Su suddenly realized that the yacht was not their first meeting.

He and Qi Hanyi had met long before that.

At that time, he had been a two- or three-year-old juvenile shark, cluelessly following a beautiful ship that occasionally threw down bait like worms, fish, and shrimp, eagerly trailing behind to eat.

And grabbing the food that the other fish were snatching away.

“The current flows against it; the road is obstructed and long.” A young boy on the deck was holding onto a pendant on his chest, looking confused as he asked, “Father, what does this mean?”

“Going upstream against the current is fraught with danger and difficult to ascend.” The man, referred to as father, placed his arm around the boy’s shoulders, casually throwing a handful of fish food into the sea.

Su Su understood their conversation; when he was very small, he didn’t live in the ocean but in a shallow area. Nearby, some fishermen often gathered together to chat, and Su Su had picked up their language without even knowing when.

Learning a foreign language was very useful. Being smaller than other juvenile sharks, Su Su overheard the fishermen a lot and obtained plenty of intelligence; he learned where they cast nets, how to avoid being caught, and how to mess up traps to steal a few live fish to satiate his appetite.

“So why go against the current?” young Qi Hanyi looked up and asked.

The man chuckled heartily: “Who knows? Perhaps it’s because there are more beautiful sights there, things one desires, or perhaps a person one wants to love.”

“People do not choose a difficult path for no reason; choosing to go against the current is because it is worthwhile.”

Su Su remembered that line. Although at that time, he couldn’t fully understand its meaning, he just thought the way the man said it was very cool—cooler than the adult sharks that could hunt yellowfin tuna.

Back then, Su Su only knew his surname was “Su” but didn’t know how to write that character or what it meant. So he unilaterally chose “Su” as his name.

Going against the current, just hearing it felt cool.

Later, when he learned to write, he combined his surname and given name, resulting in the somewhat strange sounding “Su Su.”

So, Qi Hanyi was the boy he had saved back then.

Su Su stared in astonishment at Qi Hanyi lying on the bed. No wonder, no wonder he would hate mermaids so much.

Su Su had no idea what had transpired on their ship, but he remembered—it was on that day. Late at night, when he followed the scent of blood to the vicinity of the ship, he saw a blood-soaked female mermaid holding an unmoving boy, leaping into the sea.

The mermaid pulled the boy, who couldn’t swim, deep down.

Su Su also swam in the direction of the two.

By the time Su Su arrived, the mermaid had already stopped breathing. But the boy, Su Su could hear his heartbeat, full of life.

He looked toward the surface of the sea, seeming to want to swim up, but his body seemed paralyzed, unable to move.

Su Su pushed him to the surface, nudging him onto a patch of wreckage, and with the tide receding, he had a few hours to wait for someone to come rescue him.

The boy seemed to wake up, coughing up some seawater, locking eyes with a small shark beside the rocks. His expression seemed hollow, devoid of anything, yet filled with many emotions that Su Su couldn’t comprehend.

Su Su noticed something on the boy’s chest flashing and curiously leaned closer. He recognized the pendant; Qi Hanyi had been holding it during the day, seemingly looking at something, and even the phrase “The current flows against it; the road is obstructed and long” had come from that.

Su Su bit the pendant, tugging at it, trying to pull it off the boy’s neck. Sharks acted this way—whatever they fancied they would just snatch.

Su Su was successful; the clasp on the pendant was distorted by his bite and easily came apart. Having gotten what he wanted, Su Su immediately turned and ran.

“Hey!” The boy seemed to call out behind him, but Su Su didn’t look back.

Qi Hanyi was also dreaming; in his dream, there was his father.

After his father’s incident, he hadn’t dreamed of him for many years.

Qi Hanyi’s father was named Qi Wu, originally the most outstanding heir of the Qi family. When he was twenty-five, he married a mermaid; unlike Qi Hanyi’s resistance, at first sight, his father had liked that mermaid very much.

The mermaid he married was named An Xun; she was very beautiful but a bit cold. Even towards Qi Wu, it was hard for her to wear a pleasant expression. But Qi Wu didn’t mind; he treated his mermaid well, giving her everything he could, finding ways to make her happy.

An Xun differentiated for him, which meant she reciprocated his love. Qi Wu was happier than if he had won a battle and held a grand wedding in the Imperial Capital. In those years, no— even today, few people would hold a wedding for a mermaid.

Qi Wu’s actions were turned into a joke within circles, but he didn’t care.

A year later, An Xun gave birth to a child, carrying the finest genes of humanity. As the head of the family, Qi Xingli held high expectations for him and named him Qi Hanyi.

Growing up in the aura of prestige, Qi Hanyi had a father who, although busy, loved him dearly.

In Qi Hanyi’s memories, his father often told him that when he wasn’t around, he must take good care of his mother. His father said his mother was also a mermaid, who had given him life. He mentioned that being a mother was very hard, and being a woman of the Qi family was even harder because men were always away at war, inevitably neglecting them.

His father was one of the few humans who supported equality between humans and mermaids. Not only did he support the mermaids having the same respect as humans on land, but he also backed their participation in starships, fighting alongside humans.

These views were considered shocking at that time, but because his father was the heir of the Qi family and the strongest commander of the expeditionary force, people didn’t dare to confront him openly.

However, Qi Hanyi’s memories told a different story of his mother.

From the moment he was born, his mother looked at him with intense hatred.

At first, Qi Hanyi didn’t understand; being close to his mother was instinctive.

Even when his mother used the most venomous words to insult him, calling him disgusting, calling him dirty, he still instinctively wanted to be close to her.

He didn’t ask for much; he just wanted his mother to hold him, but he could never get a response.

Qi Hanyi had asked his father why.

His father said his mother was unhappy. She was a free mermaid but was forced to become his wife, to be the mother of a child due to his selfishness, far away from her homeland and kin, leaving her lonely.

His father also said she loved them; she was willing to differentiate for him, to bear him a child, to stay. She just felt much injustice, so she had to be good and considerate of her own struggles.

Thus, Qi Hanyi accepted his father’s explanation. He grew up quietly, studying, eating, learning, growing according to family expectations. Even when treated coldly by his mother, Qi Hanyi still took care of her like a little adult.

At that time, he was not yet ten; his grandfather was always stern, relatives were covetous, and his mother was distant. Only the brief moments when his father returned home brought him happiness.

Had he only grown up in such an environment, Qi Hanyi wouldn’t have become the way he was now.

The turning point happened when he was ten.

That year, his father was on vacation. His mother suddenly told him that she missed home, wanting to go see the sea, just the three of them as a family.

His father was delighted; that was the first time in many years his mother had taken the initiative to ask him for something. He canceled an important promotion ceremony, secretly took Qi Hanyi and the mermaid out to sea.

That day, his mother was never this gentle; she wore a beautiful dress, even applied light makeup, smiled at them, and cooked fish for them for the first time.

The fish didn’t taste great, the soup had some strange flavors, but the father and son were very happy, consuming all the soup.

Only afterward did they discover that poison had been placed in the soup that made them stiff, unable to move.

When Qi Hanyi awoke, he saw his mother holding his father at knife-point, commanding him in her usual cold tone: “Hand over the control of the expeditionary fleet.”

There was no panic, no anger in Qi Wu’s eyes, only helpless sadness: “Xun, I’m sorry, I can’t agree to this.”

“If you don’t hand it over, I’ll kill you and your son!” An Xun threatened, pulling Qi Hanyi forward, the blade cutting into his neck.

Blood flowed along the blade. Qi Hanyi didn’t feel pain or fear; he just looked up at his parents in confusion, trying to understand what was happening.

“Don’t hurt Hanyi; you can resent me, hate me, take revenge on me, but Hanyi is innocent.” The look in Qi Wu’s eyes showed urgency and pain.

An Xun softened her tone: “If you hand over the authority, I will guarantee both of your safety.”

“This is impossible, Xun; why do you want the expeditionary fleet’s authority? If there’s difficulty, tell me; I can help you.” Qi Wu’s voice remained gentle.

“I want revenge on humanity and make them pay for the harm they’ve done to mermaids. I want to change the status of humans and mermaids, so that you all experience the taste of enslavement. Help me; what could you do? You hypocritical human; you would only use slogans about human-mermaid equality to deceive me; after all these years, have you succeeded?”

“I’m sorry, it may take a few more years; I… I also want to hurry, but this matter…” Qi Wu showed a troubled expression; the resistance to this issue was immense, and even his family did not side with him. If he acted too hastily, it could provoke strong backlash, so he had to lay the groundwork slowly.

“You can’t. I can. Hand over your authority; we mermaids can pilot those starships too. Once the starships aim their cannons at the land of this planet, you humans will know what it means to have awe!” An Xun became increasingly agitated: “You humans killed so many mermaids back then. You humans have treated mermaids as slaves all these years; this is their deserved retribution!”

“Ah Xun!” Qi Wu finally realized just how extreme An Xun’s thoughts were compared to what he had assumed. She was filled with hatred, not just towards him but against everyone.

He had no idea what kind of force was behind her or why they had instilled such thoughts in her. But he could not hand control over to these mermaids; that would lead to a catastrophe for humanity and even the entire planet.

“An Xun, listen to me; the starship matter is serious. The insect race has always had its eyes on us, wanting to turn this planet into their nest; they might attack our planet at any moment, and once war breaks out, not just humans but all lives on this planet will perish.”

“Stop with the fearmongering; they’re just bugs; you humans can deal with them, and we mermaids can too.” An Xun leaned closer to Qi Wu, her eyes filled with desire: “Didn’t you say you love me? Help me this once, and I will take care of you; I will protect you. I am willing to be with you forever. And our child? I will treat him well. Our family will be together happily forever; don’t you want that?”

Qi Wu closed his eyes: “I am willing to help mermaids fight for their rights, through gradual changes to make their lives better, but I will never betray humanity. An Xun, that is my bottom line.”

After that, all that remained in Qi Hanyi’s memories was blood-red.

To coerce his father into submitting, his mother cut off his fingers, then gouged out his eyes, severed his nose and ears—leaving only a tongue that could speak. Then she stabbed him hundreds of times, as if unleashing all the hatred mermaids had harbored against humanity onto him.

Humans with mermaid blood naturally possessed stronger genes, which made his father suffer more torture before his death.

Before dying, his father pleaded with his mother, “You hate humanity, I know; you can take revenge on me, I don’t blame you; this is what I owe you. But don’t harm the child; he shares your blood and is innocent. Spare him.”

That day, his mother gently touched Qi Hanyi’s face for the first time, saying, “Yes, he is also my child, he looks so much like me.”

Then, she abruptly pushed him to the ground, looking at him with disgust, much like rubbish, saying: “But he is human.”

Qi Hanyi felt that his mother had gone crazy at that moment.

Standing on the deck, still wearing the dress he had changed into during the day, stained with his father’s blood, he began to sing—a dissonant tune—and then vomited blood.

At that time, Qi Hanyi didn’t understand why his mother would vomit blood. It was only much later that he learned that when a mermaid’s beloved dies, the mermaid could die from the grief that makes them bleed. Mermaids were inherently the most emotional race. His mother did not not love his father; rather, her hatred for humanity surpassed that love.

Later, his mother embraced him for the first time. Blood-soaked, she hugged him before plunging into the sea.

Qi Hanyi had always longed for a warm embrace from his mother, but at that moment, he was pulled deeper into the ocean by her, sinking into the depths.

He felt nothing but bone-chilling cold.