Chapter 48: It’s Okay

Chapter 48 It Doesn't Matter

Deng Xi powered up the flying chair. As it was too dark, he recalled Little Mute’s earlier instruction and activated the chair’s built-in lights.

The chair’s lighting came from luminous strips embedded in its seams. When Deng Xi switched them on, the entire chair glowed, though the light was diffused by the crevices, illuminating only a small corner of the table.

Still, the room was no longer plunged in darkness.

The mobility chair glided to the suspended table. A small green light next to the operating system blinked insistently, as if urgently signaling something.

But Deng Xi’s gaze was entirely captivated by the small conch on the table. Tentatively, he reached out and gently touched the blue-green shell, handling it with utmost care, terrified that the conch, having shattered once before, might break again.

Deng Xi then poked it lightly with his fingertip.

The conch wobbled precariously. Its tiny circular base offered little stability, and with a slight tremor, it toppled over, rolling with a soft *clink* across the suspended table.

Panicked, Deng Xi instinctively reached out to stop it, but seated in the flying chair, his soft fish tail offered no leverage when he tried to sit up. By the time he managed to push himself, it was already too late.

The conch hit the floor with a tiny *tink*.

His breath hitched. Frantically, Deng Xi looked down, his gaze freezing—scattered around the fallen conch were over a dozen empty, chaotic test tubes.

Further away, a silver-white briefcase lay overturned, its green test tubes spilled out, dozens of vials strewn haphazardly across the floor.

Deng Xi remembered them.

This was Bunny’s medicine, the gene inhibitor that resembled nutrient solution. He didn’t understand what Dr. Li meant by "gene inhibitor."

But Deng Xi remembered.

He remembered how Bunny, after just one small tube, had clutched his floppy ears in agony, crying and telling Dr. Li how much it "hurt."

A sudden realization tightened Deng Xi’s heart. He thrashed his tail fin uselessly, like a fish out of water. His gill slits, hidden beneath his golden hair, were useless on land, leaving him to suffocate slowly.

He took a deep, ragged breath, counting the empty test tubes on the floor.

Fifteen in total.

Little Mute had swallowed fifteen doses at once.

But even one had been excruciating.

Deng Xi closed his eyes, suddenly afraid to face it. Just like three years ago in the ocean, confronting the frenzied Silver-Tail, he was now a thousand times more terrified.

So terrified he wanted to hug his large tail, curl up inside a tightly shut, dark shell, and never emerge.

The moment his eyes closed, a heavy *thump* echoed in the darkness. After the muffled impact, dead silence returned.

Deng Xi’s eyes flew open in alarm, his body trembling uncontrollably, blue eyes wide with terror.

In the dim light stood a cold, sealed treatment pod. Through its transparent door, he could see it filled with a murky green solution.

Deng Xi recognized that color.

It was the sedative the bad people had injected into him daily after he was captured by humans, leaving him in a constant haze.

The physical memory of that time seemed to flood back into Deng Xi. He felt as if he were back then, his breath solidifying in the water, his tail fin unable to move, his body sinking powerlessly to the bottom, his mind trapped in darkness, a splitting headache, and a nauseating urge to vomit.

Deng Xi clutched his abdomen, pressing down slightly with his palm, which instantly intensified the nausea. He leaned against the flying chair and dry-heaved several times, but nothing came up.

In the throes of this violent physiological reaction, tears streamed uncontrollably. Through his blurred vision, Deng Xi saw Silver-Tail, locked in the treatment pod, head bowed as if lifeless. Human legs were confined by restraints within the pod, and between the separated legs, a viscous substance seemed to connect them, faintly visible, as if attempting to fuse the legs back into a fish tail.

But due to the restraints, the human legs could not transform back into a closed fish tail, just as Silver-Tail’s fish tail had been forcibly severed into legs, never to return.

Silver-Tail remained unconscious, only subconsciously struggling when the pain of his legs tearing apart became unbearable, bumping against the front of the treatment pod before sinking back into silent stillness.

Deng Xi couldn’t discern Silver-Tail’s expression.

Silver scales almost entirely covered Silver-Tail’s body, even his face, making him appear truly monstrous.

But it shouldn’t be like this.

Deng Xi let out a small, wounded whimper.

His Little Mute should be swimming in the ocean, his bright silver tail shimmering, scales sparkling like a starry night sky.

No matter what, it shouldn’t be like this.

Healing wasn't supposed to turn him into *this*.

The flying chair’s blinking green light suddenly turned to an urgent red. After a few flashes, it dimmed completely, the glowing chair turning black and crashing to the ground with a *clang* as its power drained and it ceased functioning.

Deng Xi lurched with it. Confused, he frantically tried to operate the controls in the darkness, but no matter what he did, the flying chair remained stubbornly on the ground, unable to take flight.

The treatment pod vanished into the darkness again.

Deng Xi felt as if he were back on that day in the ocean, helplessly watching Little Mute being taken away.

If you couldn’t fly, you just couldn’t fly.

He was still that useless little merman, unable to do anything, completely helpless on land.

Deng Xi propped himself up with his arms, supporting his soft, weak fish tail. He wanted to open the treatment pod and free Little Mute.

But he had no human legs and couldn’t walk on land. After propping himself up, Deng Xi realized he couldn’t possibly use his own strength to get out of the flying chair.

Merfolk were simply too weak.

Deng Xi tried hard to lift his tail, but it was futile.

The flying chair wobbled with Deng Xi’s movements, and finally, as Deng Xi’s strength gave out and he collapsed heavily back into the chair, the chair itself shook violently, then toppled over with a *thump*, sending Deng Xi crashing to the ground with it.

The sharp pain of the fall instantly hit him.

Tears, due to the physiological pain, fell once more.

Deng Xi lay in the darkness, his curled golden hair sticking to his damp face. He involuntarily curled up, trembling miserably, taking small, forceful gasps, his sobs almost squeezed from his throat.

If cutting off his tail was the only way to gain human legs, Deng Xi thought, then he was willing.

His blue eyes squeezed shut in avoidance.

Deng Xi never wanted to be stuck helplessly watching, tears streaming down his face, ever again.

That was too useless.

He curled up his large tail, recalling, almost in despair, what Little Mute had taught him. Deng Xi touched his tail, measuring it inch by inch with his fingertips, his voice trembling as he squeezed out a few words: "Foot... leg... knee..."

Over and over.

Again and again.

No use.

Just like before, completely useless.

Deng Xi hugged his tail, curling up into a ball, wiping all his tears onto its scales.

What could he do?

What was he to do?

The treatment pod door was too high; with only his fish tail, he couldn’t reach it, nor did he have the strength to open the locked door.

Deng Xi didn’t even know how to get to the treatment pod now.

Because the flying chair had stopped working and was no longer spraying mist, his tail would soon dry out. If he moved, many scales would fall off.

Deng Xi whimpered softly.

Almost helplessly, he wondered if the ocean, which had protected him since he hatched from his merman egg, could help him again.

Merfolk, when in trouble, instinctively turn to the ocean that nurtured them for help. Deng Xi let his spiritual sea expand, and for a moment, he felt as if he had returned to the deep sea. The salty, damp scent of the seabed filled his nostrils, and a gentle sea breeze, carrying sunlight, slowly brushed past him.

In a daze, Deng Xi thought he heard a very faint sigh within his spiritual sea—or perhaps it was just his imagination. Just as he recovered from that sigh, he felt the sensation of holding his tail change.

Deng Xi slowly opened his eyes.

Beneath the shimmering gauze, he saw a pair of human legs. They were as soft and weak as his fish tail, but at least they allowed Deng Xi to walk on land.

Deng Xi’s eyelids curved slightly, and with a tremor, another tear fell. In his heart, he softly thanked the ocean.

Painstakingly, Deng Xi struggled to stand.

It was his first time walking, and his weak legs were still unsteady. The moment he eagerly took his first step, he stumbled and fell again.

These legs couldn’t run or jump.

Even walking was so difficult.

Deng Xi got up again and again, only to fall again and again. His newly transformed legs were soon covered in blue and purple bruises, even broken skin, oozing sticky blood.

After countless attempts, Deng Xi finally stumbled to the front of the treatment pod. He gripped the pod firmly, slowly pulled himself up, and tightly grasped the door.

The treatment pod door was designed using air pressure differences.

Those outside could easily pull it open, but no matter how hard someone inside pushed, it wouldn’t budge, unless the treatment pod automatically ended its operation.

Deng Xi easily pulled open the door.

Before he could react, the sedative inside the treatment pod gushed out. Once the door was opened, the restraints locking Silver-Tail also automatically unlocked.

Deng Xi stood in a puddle of sticky sedative as the unconscious Silver-Tail toppled forward into him.

His already unstable legs buckled, and Deng Xi fell to the ground, the heavy Silver-Tail pressing down on him. With the suppression lifted, his human legs quickly transformed back into a gleaming silver fish tail, accompanied by cold, damp moisture.

Slowly opening, the silver eyes revealed vertical, beast-like pupils.

His body ached all over.

But Deng Xi’s eyelids curved slightly.

He wasn’t afraid at all.

Even now, he faced a Silver-Tail devoid of reason, one who didn’t recognize him.

Deng Xi hugged his Little Mute tightly, so tightly that the silver scales covering Silver-Tail’s entire body made the embrace painful.

This foreign sensation roused the groggy Silver Merman. Slowly, he extended his sharp merman claws and lightly touched his own face.

What met his touch was not smooth skin, but a face covered in chilling scales.

The Silver Merman seemed confused. Instinctively, he tilted his head, performing a movement ingrained in muscle memory, not understanding how he had become like this.

Tears streamed from Deng Xi’s blue eyes, one after another.

Deng Xi smiled, pressing his soft cheek against the scales on Silver-Tail’s face, uncaring of the rough texture, clinging tightly to the scales.

His voice became very soft.

"It’s okay."

"No matter what you become, it’s okay."

I will still hold you tightly.

Author’s Note:

It’s okay. No matter what you’re like, it’s okay. If you want to hide, it’s okay. If you don’t want to face it, it’s okay. If you’re dirty and damaged, it’s okay. If you’re broken, it’s okay. I’ll hide you away, I’ll wrap you up, I’ll clean you, I’ll put you back together. I’ll cover your ears, and if we just close our eyes, forehead to forehead, this world will have only the two of us left. Don’t be afraid.

(From an online friend—I thought it fit so well, I wanted to include it here.)