What are you, really? (Part 3)
Less than a month later, the Federal Genetic Safety Committee held a closed-door meeting.
Xiao Lin stood in front of the projection screen, his fingers lightly tapping the still-wet ink of the conversion sample report. The people sitting in the conference room weren't ordinary experts, but the top decision-makers from the four major federal departments: the military, healthcare, energy, and diplomacy.
"Mermaid genes can provide deep-sea pressure resistance, improved oxygen uptake efficiency, and neural link reconstruction, all of which are physiological limits that humans cannot overcome at this stage."
No one spoke. Because everyone understood what those words meant.
It means "evolution".
But Xiao Lin knew that what they were really hearing was another word: advantage.
"You want to promote this?" the Energy Minister spoke first, his tone carrying a standard politician's fake smile. "Director Xiao, you should know that changes in biological forms can directly shake up social order."
“Social order?” Xiao Lin smiled gently and politely. “The order you speak of was established before the sea level rose again.”
The meeting room fell eerily quiet for a moment.
He slowly pressed the next page of the projection—a satellite graph showing changes in global coastlines, with the red line rising like a snake, even including some landlocked countries in the future submerged area.
"Right now, I'm not discussing 'feasibility.' I'm discussing 'inevitability.'"
Eighth Fleet Commander Sollion chuckled involuntarily: "He's right. Whoever controls the deep-sea resources will own the future."
Once those words are spoken, it's a done deal.
Half an hour later, the military and the Academy of Sciences jointly signed the "Pilot Regulations for Pre-construction Research on Deep-Sea Survival Form Transformation." The file name was mildly worded, but its content was enough to turn the world upside down.
On the night the document was issued, Xiao Lin stood alone on the rooftop corridor of the research institute, gazing at the lush lights under the night sky.
He spoke softly, "Did you hear that?"
There was an invisible, slight vibration in the air, like the tide gently lapping against the rocks.
Another voice came from the depths of his consciousness: "Very good. They accepted it faster than we expected."
“Humans will never refuse the power they can control,” Xiao Lin said softly. “They will even actively fight for it.”
Another voice, with a half-smile, said: "This is exactly what we need."
“What you want is not ‘transformation’,” Xiao Lin said. “What you really want is for mermaids to integrate into the human social structure.”
He paused, his tone cold and calm: "In the name of humanity."
Another voice did not deny it.
The sea breeze, coming from afar, gently swept across the city's edge. Looking down from above, those seemingly independent human city lights appeared incredibly fragile.
"Only when humans drive evolution themselves will they consider it the result of their own civilization, rather than the assimilation of foreign species."
The other voice was gentle, almost coaxing:
"This is the most wonderful thing about you humans—you are willing to accept anything as long as it is labeled as 'your own choice'."
Xiao Lin closed his eyes and did not answer.
Because this sentence is an exact, untouched part of the Silverscale Ancestor's memory.
That wasn't praise. It was an assessment, a conclusion, and part of the plan.
It wasn't aggression, it was infiltration. It wasn't invasion, it was being welcomed.
— Exploiting human greed, allowing "mermaids" to come ashore in a legal, gentle, and controllable manner.
“However,” Xiao Lin suddenly spoke up, “do you really intend to let them all know? Silver Scales are not ‘living things,’ and you are not ‘species.’”
Another voice laughed, a laugh that was both gentle and dangerous.
"They don't need to know the truth. For them, mermaids are a mass-producible and understandable model of biological transformation, and that's enough."
His voice faded away, the last sentence almost inaudible:
"We are not coming into their world. We are leading them into our world."
——————————
Meanwhile, similar scenes began to appear in research institutes around the world:
Sealed experimental chamber, genetic code analyzer, liquid nitrogen tank, live culture medium...
Every research institute believed it had "secretly obtained key technologies," and every leader secretly rejoiced at being at the forefront of the times. Little did they know, this was not a breakthrough.
This is the preparatory stage before assimilation.
They thought they were studying mermaids. But in reality, they were quietly writing "mermaids" into the history of human genes.
All of this is happening quietly. And at this very moment, the only person with an intuitive understanding of the truth is—only one person.
Yunhe.
She stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the night sky. A faint warmth rose in her heart, as if the deep sea were calling to her.
Unfortunately, at that moment, she had no idea what this meant.
——————————
Night had fallen low, and the neon lights outside the window diffused into a soft glow in the damp air. Yunhe leaned against the corner of the sofa, a thin blanket loosely wrapped around her shoulders, like a small animal curled up by the sea breeze. That inexplicable burning and dull pain in her chest had started again, not intense, but persistent, like being pulled by some invisible thread, slowly but impossible to ignore.
She pressed her hand to her chest, her brow furrowed slightly, yet she couldn't quite describe the feeling. It wasn't an illness, nor anxiety; it was more like a call, rising from the deep sea, one after another.
"Are you feeling unwell again?"
The sound came from somewhere. There was no sound of a door opening, but it seemed to have been there all along, quietly waiting for her to notice.
This didn't surprise her; she was used to it. He was always like this—appearing silently where she couldn't notice, and then speaking when she needed him most.
“…Mmm.” She responded softly, as if afraid of waking the night.
As Shen Huai'an approached, the light fell on his profile, revealing an indescribable, unreal beauty between his mermaid and human forms, though the edges were gently obscured by a soft, patient, almost long-lasting aura.
He sat beside her, moving slowly, as if afraid of startling her. His fingertips rested on the side of her neck; her pulse was quick but steady. He lowered his head as if listening.
“It is your heart that remembers the sea,” he said gently, as if explaining a tide. “It is not illness, nor fear. It is just… an echo.”
Yunhe paused, then asked, "Go back where?"
"Go back to where you belong." He said it softly, without any hint of command or even suggestion, as if stating a fact like a weather forecast. "Don't resist, the more you resist, the more it will hurt."
She was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly said, "Shen Huai'an, I don't want to become like you. I am human."
Although Nixos claimed to have silver scale blood, ordinary humans also have at least 1% to 4% Neanderthal blood. Can we really say that all these people are Neanderthals?
“I know.” He looked at her, his eyes as gentle as if they held the entire ocean. “I will not let you become a mermaid.”
The tone was not a promise, nor a consolation, but a firm conviction.
It wasn't because he respected her choice, but because—he never intended for her to change.
Her life was too light, too short, too fragile, like a thin thread floating on the tide, which would snap if pulled too hard. He couldn't even tell if he was protecting her or protecting a sliver of humanity that she had awakened, a vestige of humanity that should have long since perished but stubbornly lingered.
"Then why am I like this?" she asked, half-jokingly. Actually, she already vaguely sensed the answer.
He didn't answer immediately. After a long while, he said softly:
"Because you trust me."
It's not dependence, not addiction, not love. It's trust. A fragile trust, nowhere to be placed, that can only be carefully entrusted to one person.
And this is more deadly than love.
He raised his hand and gently pressed her head against his shoulder, the movement as natural as if he had done it a thousand times before. In that instant, Yunhe felt the discomfort in her chest ease, her breathing became smoother, and her heartbeat returned from rapid to steady.
"That way it won't hurt," he whispered.
Yunhe closed her eyes.
She didn't know how he knew, or why he was able to do it. She simply accepted this sense of security instinctively.
He lowered his head, his gaze falling on her quiet profile. His expression at that moment was hard to describe.
It wasn't scheming, nor was it warmth, nor even pity. It was more like...
A creature that hadn't felt the meaning of the act of "getting close" for a very, very long time finally remembered what it felt like to be trusted by another life.
He didn't even realize it himself. He simply tightened his grip on his arm a little.
——————————
"That way it won't hurt anymore." Shen Huai'an's voice was so low it seemed to come from the bottom of the sea.
Yunhe had already closed her eyes, but the next second she suddenly opened them again, as if she had suddenly remembered something, and her whole body sprang up.
"Wait, wait—" She yanked his hand off her shoulder and took a half-step back as if she'd been burned. "I said, stop with these sudden close moves, it's scary! I'm not your pet!"
His tone was casual and even a bit irritable.
Shen Huai'an: "..."
She continued her rapid-fire monologue, poking his shoulder with her finger as she spoke, like she was interrogating a criminal: "Besides, what I felt just now was chest tightness, I wasn't feeling well! It wasn't—it wasn't about trust or anything like that! Don't give me that juicy teenage romance nonsense, it's disgusting!"
Clearly, the sense of security and relief she felt earlier had all turned into stubbornness. After all, that's what she excels at.
Shen Huai'an looked at her, a very slight smile seemingly flashing in his eyes. It wasn't mockery, but rather a barely perceptible sense of relief, as if she had pulled him back into the human world.
"Okay." He obediently sat back on the sofa, making room for him. "I'll listen to you."
Yunhe snorted, hugged the blanket, and sat down, keeping a full thirty centimeters between herself and him, as if guarding against a wolf. But less than half a minute later, the dull pain in her chest crept back, and she couldn't help but pull the blanket closer to her and quietly move to the side a little.
Just a little bit at a time. Little by little.
In the end, he returned to Shen Huai'an's side.
Before she could react, Shen Huai'an spoke first: "She's come closer again."
"So what!" Yunhe immediately bristled. "It's all your fault! You opened the window so wide, it's freezing!"
The air was silent for three seconds. Then—
Yun couldn't hold it in any longer and covered her face, whispering, "...Damn it, why am I like this again?"
She wasn't unaware of that sense of dependence. It's just that her inherent stubbornness and unwillingness to admit defeat were too strong.
"Because you're afraid." Shen Huai'an's tone remained gentle, never revealing people's sore spots, only gently lifting a small corner.
“What’s there to be afraid of?” she retorted immediately. “I’ve lived this long and even seen a higher-dimensional monster like you, what do I have to be afraid of?!”
He didn't laugh at her, but simply replied softly, "I'm afraid of losing someone I can rely on again."
Yunhe was stunned.
Three seconds.
Five seconds.
Then she raised her hand, pulled the blanket over her head, and muttered, "...You fucking bastard, do you know that you look like an idol exclusively for middle-aged and elderly women? It's disgusting, ugh."
Shen Huai'an chuckled softly. It was a faint echo, almost imperceptible to himself, as if touched on a place that had long since dried up.
He rarely smiled so humanly. He himself didn't know why.
"Do you want to sit further away?" he asked.
"...Not far now, right?" Yunhe stretched a hand out from under the blanket and patted him on the shoulder twice, like patting a big dog. "That's enough. That's about it."
It's very sloppy and not romantic at all.
She is very much like him.
Shen Huai'an lowered his eyes, looking at the hand that had unexpectedly patted him. He suddenly realized that when she entrusted her trust to him, it was without any ceremony. Neither devout nor dependent, she simply placed herself beside him casually and naturally.
Just like—
She always felt he would be there. Not that she believed him, but she never imagined he would leave.
It's an almost instinctive sense of belonging.
He realized almost immediately that this instinct was not something she was born with, but rather something he had cultivated himself.
But he didn't stop, nor did he withdraw his touch. He simply tucked the corner of the blanket that had slipped down back over her shoulders, his movements as gentle as the tide pushing away sand.
"Go to sleep," he whispered. "I'm here."
Yunhe didn't speak. But her shoulders visibly relaxed, as if she had finally returned from the storm to a place where she could stand.
Her breathing gradually calmed down. She finally fell asleep.
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