Chapter 33: The Terrifying Aquarium (9)

Chapter 33: The Terrifying Aquarium (9)

Since there were simply too many items to carry, Tan Yue decided to rent a nearly-new full-size van long-term, packing the trunk completely full before driving straight back to the aquarium.

After all, he would be staying at the aquarium for two months, making weekly shopping trips, so renting a vehicle was more convenient.

"Hey, I'm back."

Though he had entered through a different Portal, the others still noticed Tan Yue's arrival.

Zhang Yishi wavered: "It's safe outside! He can leave and come back!"

"Are you sure the one who returned is really your human schoolmate? And not some monster wearing his skin?" Zhang Yang said coldly.

After witnessing so many anomalies—including that man who had dashed out only to dissolve into a bloody mist—still entertaining such illusions was ridiculous!

"Many living people who enter the other realm end up staying as ghosts. Just because he left through the mist doesn’t mean he went back to our world—it could be another zone of the supernatural domain. Don’t forget, those tourists on the bus also came from the outer supernatural domain."

Zhang Yishi’s hopeful illusion was quickly dashed. Right—what if this was just a trap, a pit dug by the supernaturals?

Zhang Yang might have a bold appearance, but he wasn’t reckless in action: "If you want to approach him, don't involve us in your risky plan."

"It’s already been seven days. Once we finish a month, the Portal will open, and we can leave here safely."

Zhang Yang firmly believed that rules couldn’t be broken casually. Even with some supernatural power, he was still powerless against the rules. Breaking them would only bring misfortune.

Tan Yue noticed someone watching him and glanced back, spotting the other part-time workers. He quickly averted his gaze, with no interest in talking to them further.

Of course, he had seen the actress Zhang Yishi before—but only in the honorary alumni portraits hung at school, a heavily photoshopped picture that barely looked real, not the masked part-time worker Zhang Yishi.

Tan Yue didn’t follow any celebrities. To him, she was just a stranger he’d never interacted with. At most, her eyes might seem slightly familiar—not recognizing her was perfectly normal.

Even with a trolley, there was too much to carry alone, so he called guard Uncle Ping to help unload.

"This van can’t stay here. I’ll get the shadow to help unload. You go find the Curator first."

Uncle Ping took one look and sent Tan Yue away. Once he was gone, he pushed the trolley into the shadows with both hands.

The shadow emerged. Without even opening the rear compartment, all the goods were swallowed by a dark vortex before instantly reappearing in the darkened staff kitchen.

Where darkness existed, Uncle Shadow was omnipresent—he could move stuff like nothing else.

By the time Tan Yue found Guan Shan, he received a message from Uncle Ping: "All the goods you brought have been placed in the staff kitchen. Check if there’s any issue."

"I got everything you asked for. See if it’s all right?" Tan Yue guided Guan Shan by hand, and the two walked shoulder-to-shoulder to the kitchen. The supplies took up nearly all the space, with stacks of baby products still piled outside.

Guan Shan took a quick look. "No issues." He added a compliment, "I know I can count on you."

"All good, thank you, Uncle Ping and Uncle Shadow! I’ll make you a big meal."

But calculating the time, he couldn’t help but marvel: "Uncle Ping and Uncle Shadow’s efficiency is unbelievable. Old hands know best."

He had thought himself quite the efficient worker, but they were in a class of their own—moving everything in under ten minutes! Since this kind of help couldn’t be paid with wages, he decided to make them a big meal tomorrow as thanks, maybe with some extra gifts.

Thanks to the bulk order, the wholesaler had included some free items—perfect for packing an extra bundle to send over.

"Let’s eat first, then organize everything."

The kitchen had convenient carts, so he could take care of organizing the rest himself.

But even this much was quite an undertaking. Xiao Tan took out the large insulated bag he had brought earlier, unpacking stacked takeout containers—all delicious meals he had packed from outside, just needing a quick zap in the microwave.

After the meal, Xiao Tan finished organizing the supplies with Guan Shan's help. Before he could so much as stretch, his lover pulled him into the room.

"Wait, I haven't showered or changed yet."

He had been driving for so long, shopping under the scorching sun, and had worked up quite a sweat.

Grimey and sweaty, Xiao Tan was too embarrassed to show himself to Guan Shan, even though they had been intimate many times before—he still had his dignity to maintain.

"The water will wash everything clean."

During their intimate moments, Guan Shan rarely transformed into his mermaid form.

On one hand, a fish tail wasn’t as flexible or convenient as human legs. On the other, Xiao Tan wasn’t exactly fond of the deep sea.

But the most important reason was that Guan Shan was preparing for his breeding season.

He told Xiao Tan, "You don’t need to work as a guide anymore, but I’ll still compensate you for the wages."

"What nonsense are you talking about? How can I take money for something like this?" Xiao Tan nipped at his lover lightly. It was one thing to work hard for pay, but accompanying his lover through a special time was just part of being in a relationship, wasn’t it?

"I'm not some paid escort—don’t say things like that again! Or I’ll really be upset." He grabbed Guan Shan’s hand, his eyes welling up with tears.

The god gazed at his face and ultimately said nothing more.

From that day on, Xiao Tan found himself effectively trapped in the deep sea.

None of the human food he had prepared was eaten. His promised dinner for Uncle Ping and the shadowy figure was also postponed.

Drifting in the abyss, he hazily thought, *At least I only said I’d treat them without setting a date—otherwise, I’d have to come up with excuses.*

Xiao Tan had never imagined a mermaid’s tail could contort into such impossible positions. The muscles felt taut yet supple, but the body itself became incredibly flexible.

A mermaid’s tail wasn’t like an ordinary fish’s—it could flex like liquid mercury.

What was terrifying was that in the sunless depths, he grew disoriented, almost losing track of day and night.

He hadn’t taken any aphrodisiacs, and the leeks and kidneys he bought went unused—because the mermaid’s own intoxicating scent was the most potent aphrodisiac imaginable.

The staff working outside noticed Xiao Tan hadn’t shown up for days, and someone curiously asked about it.

"He has other matters to attend to. Stay in your lane!"

It wasn’t just Xiao Tan—the Curator hadn’t appeared for days either. But Xiao Tan’s direct superior was the Curator. Whether he was on leave, absent, out on business, or doing something else, it wasn’t the employees’ concern.

Besides, the staff rest area was part of the Curator’s personal paranormal territory. While the aquarium was open to the public, that section remained restricted.

Now, that entire area was under lockdown—even the scarlet-garbed staff didn’t dare approach.

Dolphin declared, "We won’t be accepting outside visitors for the next couple of days. The aquarium will be closed for renovations. You’ll continue working inside for now."

Though no one knew what the Curator was doing in his domain, as long as the aquarium’s waters remained undisturbed, it meant he was fine.

Hearing this, the others found it strangely unsettling—after all, they had become accustomed to the grind.

Chen Xuemei, working up her courage, raised her hand and asked, "Supervisor, will we still get paid for these days?"

Whether or not they had visitors wasn’t the issue—what mattered was whether they’d receive the wages that paid their keep.

Tun Tun smirked, "You're just not receiving visitors, but that doesn't mean you stop working. You’ll still get your regular pay, just no tips."

Of course, working at the aquarium meant no extra tips.

After a few days of working without guests, everyone felt that manual labor was much easier than dealing with customers outside. Everyone except Zhang Yang preferred the steady full pay during the closure.

"If only Xiao Tan could disappear forever, just a few more days, so we can keep getting full pay till the end."

"Cursing a senior? That’s a 20-dollar fine." The ever-watchful dolphin fined the speaker another 20 bucks.

That counts as a curse? But the judgment was in the hands of that damned dolphin. Arguing would just get you hit with an insubordination fine, leading to doubled fines.

The speaker slapped himself. "Why’d you have to open your big mouth?" After all this time, he still hadn’t learned—keep those thoughts to yourself.

Calling it a curse wasn’t far off—Tan Yue, submerged in the sea, was tightly wrapped by the water and embraced by his lover.

His lover nourished him with more than just kisses—tears, blood.

A mermaid’s blood wasn’t red—it was sea-blue.

Mirrorless and lost in a haze, he didn’t notice the subtle changes in his body.

Even without any bubble protection, he could now breathe underwater like any sea creature, swimming freely.

One day, two days… He’d lost track of how long he’d been entwined with Guan Shan here. Utterly bewitched, he forgot everything—even hunger.

When hunger struck, the mermaid’s pale hand reached out of the transparent bubble to randomly select a lucky fish.

Then, with a light flick of those sharp nails, the fish turned into fresh sashimi, the tender flesh melting on his tongue as his lover fed him.

Barely recovering from one round and getting a brief moment of clarity, the dizzying scent would hit him again. Like a spell, his exhaustion vanished, dragging him back into another dizzying embrace.

"I’m going to break..." "I’ll die from overuse..."

Sometimes, such thoughts flashed through Tan Yue’s mind. Pleasure crested over him in endless waves, pushing him higher and higher—peak after peak.

But the higher he climbed, the farther the fall. Humans couldn’t help but feel fear when climbing to such heights. Beneath were sheer cliffs, and one misstep could mean utter destruction.

His fear came from knowing human bodies had limits.

Even if he survived, would he ever recover? Would his lover replace him?

Would he abandon him for another mermaid? In fleeting moments of lucidity, sorrow welled up in Tan Yue’s chest.

His tears were quickly licked away by his lover. "Why are you crying?" the deity murmured, puzzled.

He’d given only pleasure, yet the tears carried bitter sadness.

"Baby, will you abandon me? Will you find someone else?"

"Of course not." So that was it. The deity’s heart softened for his insecure human lover and gently promised, "There’s only you."

To a deity, other followers were expendable—discarding broken ones was normal. But a human lover was unique, to be handled with utmost care.

"Don’t be afraid. Even if you break, I’ll fix you."

Even if his limbs shattered, his body torn to pieces, divine power would restore him—body and soul—without a single scar.

After comforting him, the deity pulled the human into another dizzying embrace.

When Tan Yue finally climbed out of the bathtub, he stood steadily on the ground.

The barefoot man noticed in the mirror that his abs seemed more defined than before—after all, he hadn’t eaten much and had been "training" relentlessly.

But at this moment, his mind was as calm as still water, devoid of any desires. It was as if a halo seemed to glow above his head, with Buddhist mantras humming around him and ethereal music whispered in his ears: "Form is emptiness, emptiness is form..."

Glancing at the time, he realized a full 15 days had passed. The heat cycle—what a chaotic, endless stretch of time, blurring the lines between day and night.

Fifteen days. Looking back, Tan Yue had no idea how he’d survived. His mind could only conjure up a series of scenes that would be pixelated out.

Yet, no matter how wild those moments had been, his heart remained undisturbed now. At this moment, he felt ascetically detached, beyond earthly cravings.

Checking the fridge, he saw that the vegetables he’d brought back from the human world had wilted after 15 days, and the meat in the freezer needed to be cooked soon.

Vaguely recalling that he’d promised to host a dinner, Tan Yue rolled up his sleeves, tied on an apron, and began cooking expressionlessly.

As for his lover, he was still submerged in the bathtub, unwilling to emerge just yet. The heat cycle was over, but he still needed the saltwater more.

Though worldly desires had faded, his appetite remained. After all, no matter what, one still had to eat to survive in this world.

But when he reached for the dishes, Tan Yue accidentally shattered one bowl… then two others…

Wait, something felt off. He turned and headed to the gym.

Guan Shan, of course, had a private gym, fully equipped with the works—treadmills, barbells, spin bikes, parallel bars—you name it.

First, he stepped onto the scale. His weight had increased by four kilograms, which seemed significant, but in reality, there was no net gain. His body fat percentage had improved, meaning all the added weight was pure muscle. Muscle was denser, hence the higher number, but his physique had become leaner and more statuesque than before.

He had always envied his lover’s beautifully sculpted muscles, and now it seemed he had miraculously matched them too.

Well, it made sense. He *had* been engaging in marathon sessions, and swimming naturally enhanced muscle definition. Developing such a physique was only logical.

Tan Yue studied himself in the gym mirror. His skin, once tanned from military training in his freshman year, had mostly recovered after a year. But now, he seemed even fairer. Touching his face, it felt as smooth as porcelain.

It wasn’t just his imagination—his reflection seemed uncannily refined, his features sharper.

Testing his strength, he lifted a barbell. What had once been his maximum weight now felt like lifting air.

Punching the punching dynamometer repeatedly… his power had skyrocketed. This level of change was anything but normal.

Staring at the numbers, Tan Yue looked it up: Mike Tyson’s peak punch clocked in at 800 kg of force, while his left fist reached 500 kg.

Tan Yue, however, casually clocked 800 kg without trying. If he put serious effort into it, he could exceed 2000 kg. Even his weaker left fist ranged between 600-1500 kg.

And this was without any formal training. With professional conditioning, his limits could climb even higher.

But before this, his maximum strength had only been around 400 kg.

Was this normal? This completely surpassed human limits!

With this kind of punching power, if he ever stepped into a boxing ring, a single uncontrolled strike could kill someone.

After testing everything in the gym, he found his strength, reaction speed, and endurance had all increased by one to two times—or more.

Tan Yue felt dazed. *Talk about gains!*

But the moment he thought that, he immediately scolded himself. *"Just fifteen days? That was no ordinary fifteen days! That was fifteen days with the world’s most stunning mermaid!"*

Besides, what use did he have for such superhuman strength? In modern society, possessing abilities beyond human limits wouldn’t earn him a spot in the Olympics—more likely, he’d be dragged to a lab for experiments.

With great strength, manual labor would be a breeze, but he had no intention of making a living by moving bricks.

Perhaps because he hadn’t eaten for too long, coupled with working out on the gym equipment, Tan Yue ate a huge amount of food.

Since cooking was too much trouble, he simply lit a pot, tossed in some hotpot base, and ate as he cooked—this way, he could more accurately track how much he was eating before feeling full.

Hotpot broth and ingredients were perfect for mixing with rice. He used to only eat one bucket of rice, but now he could finish two.

Tan Yue’s vision darkened for a moment: *Damn, my already terrifying appetite has doubled—now I’m a full-blown glutton!*

It seemed he’d have to ask his sweet wife for more spending money. Otherwise, once school started, even if his parents gave him extra allowance, it wouldn’t be enough to cover his meals.

After stuffing himself with human food, it felt like Tan Yue had been pulled back into the lively human world—he felt human again.

"Tan Yue!"

It was Guan Shan calling for him.

"Coming!"

He walked incredibly fast, returning to the bathroom in under two minutes.

After so many days, it felt like ages since he had really seen his partner with a clear, calm mind.

Not only had he undergone massive changes, but Guan Shan had clearly transformed as well.

His face was stunning as ever, but his aura had shifted—less seductive, now gentler, more sacred, radiating a divine, almost fatherly glow.

Tan Yue thought of Raphael’s *Madonna* series, where the tender, loving, and holy Virgin cradled the child in delicate brushstrokes.

*Ugh, why am I thinking this? This is my wife, not my mom.*

In reality, his own mother wasn’t exactly the picture of holiness either. After all, an embalmer who let her child play with bones since childhood couldn’t embody holiness.

As the neighbors would say, the whole family had a creepy, gloomy air—only Tan Yue and his father were the relatively normal, cheerful ones.

"What’s wrong? Do you want me to carry you out?"

Tan Yue mentioned his increased strength and patted his chest reassuringly. "Don’t worry, I’ve practiced a lot outside. I’ve got my strength under control now—I can hold fragile stuff without any issues. I won’t crush you!"

He spread his arms, ready to sweep his partner up bridal-style.

But Guan Shan didn’t cooperate, remaining submerged in the bathtub, where the clear water had turned into salty seawater.

The mermaid’s seaweed-like hair seemed even longer now, spilling around him like Rapunzel’s.

The deity took Tan Yue’s hand and guided it to his still-flat abdomen.

Smiling sweetly and shyly, he said, "Guess what’s inside?"

Tan Yue asked, "Hungry? I still have plenty of hotpot ingredients left. Let me carry you out to eat."

Guan Shan shook his head and didn’t drag out the suspense, revealing the answer directly: "There’s our child inside."

It hit Tan Yue like lightning. He suddenly remembered the piles of baby supplies he had bought half a month ago.

His voice trembled slightly, "B-but… you’re a guy?"

Humans and mermaids weren’t even the same species. Even if there was no gender barrier, there should still be reproductive isolation, right?

Guan Shan shot him a reproachful glance: "Mermaid tails contain reproductive organs."

Though his human form is male, like angels, mermaids are fundamentally genderless and can naturally bear offspring.

If not for Tan Yue, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to create a "child."

After all, he’d heard human husbands get super gentle with their pregnant wives.

The deity's voice took on a dangerous edge: "Do you not like our child?"

If not, he could just "get rid of it" — after all, it was entirely his creation.

Tan Yue instinctively nodded, then shook his head: "No, I mean, I like it very much!"

He was only nineteen, hadn’t even started his sophomore year, and now he was going to have a child!

But after the initial shock, happiness definitely won out.

"I’m just too surprised," he said, then grew extremely anxious. "Do mermaids have to go through ten months of pregnancy too? Will it hurt a lot? Do we need a doctor for delivery? What should we do?"

Of course, a deity wouldn’t suffer such hardships. Aside from certain special undead turned supernaturals, making a "child" was easy for him.

Still, seeing Tan Yue worry about him was pretty entertaining.

"No need to worry. The kids will be here soon—in about five days." Five days later, all outsiders would be expelled, and the aquarium would lock down completely, transforming into another scene.

But to sever the second chain and free his true form, the child’s existence was necessary.

Five days—that did sound brief, without much suffering. Tan Yue sighed in relief, failing to notice that Guan Shan had said "kids," not "kid."

"Were those baby products prepared for our kid? Should I go out and buy more?"

He thought bottles and formula would probably cover it, but don't babies need a ton of other stuff? Like walkers and such.

"We should have enough," Guan Shan found himself not wanting Tan Yue to focus so much on the baby.

Staring into Tan Yue’s eyes, he asked that classic question: "Who matters more—me or the kid?"