Chen Ping came running back in a complete mess, scaring everyone half to death. Aside from the chief engineer and the first mate, who couldn’t leave their posts, the rest of the crew all came over. The group gathered around Chen Ping’s fishing net and frantically worked together to free the person inside.
“The kid seems fine, physically… but wait—how did this child end up in the ocean, and tangled in a fishing net?!”
They were absolutely certain there had been no other ships, no small boats, nothing at all on the sea surface nearby. Where on earth had this kid come from? It’s not like he could’ve popped out of the seabed, right?!
“Hey kid, where did you come from? How did you end up here?”
These people spoke a language different from the one in his inherited memories. Ye Yang couldn’t quite understand them—he only knew they were asking him something.
But even if he could understand, he wouldn’t dare answer. He felt too guilty.
Earlier, after spotting this ship from afar, he’d stared at it for a good while. He didn’t recognize this big thing, but the creatures moving about on deck were probably humans.
In his inherited memories, humans were described as very unique beings. Though their lifespans were short, they possessed great intelligence, perception, and creativity. Of all living beings, humans had the easiest time cultivating.
He’d immediately locked onto his target. Without thinking too much, he dove into the sea and swam over at lightning speed.
Unfortunately, he’d miscalculated the timing and nearly missed the ship. Panicking, he poured all of his demonic energy into one motion, combined with his inherently overwhelming physical strength, and grabbed hold. The entire massive vessel shuddered—which startled even Ye Yang himself.
He hadn’t expected something so huge to be so easily shaken.
That fright only made him more flustered. He lost track of his surroundings in the water and accidentally got tangled in the fishing net.
When the crew saw he wasn’t responding, their questions multiplied: “Kid, are you okay? Thirsty? Hungry?”
“Why isn’t the kid saying anything?”
“Maybe he’s mute? Look at the poor thing.”
“Maybe he’s hurt somewhere? We should check him over first.”
Ye Yang was at a complete loss under their barrage of questions. This was his first real encounter with humans, and he was utterly unprepared.
Just as his heart was pounding faster and faster, his face growing hotter and hotter, and he was starting to regret everything, Chen Ping appeared just in time to cut off the crew’s interrogation.
“Move, move, move—everyone get back!”
Chen Ping shoved his way past his colleagues, crouched down, stuffed a water bottle into Ye Yang’s arms, and handed him a large towel. “Drink some water, then dry off. In a bit, I’ll take you to take a shower and find you a change of clothes.”
Ye Yang took them instinctively, then hesitated, unsure what to do. Chen Ping saw the bewilderment in those bright eyes and felt an immediate surge of tenderness. He softened his voice: “Don’t be scared, kid. You’re safe now. Later, that chubby uncle over there will make you something good to eat.”
As he spoke, he used the corner of the towel to gently wipe the water off Ye Yang’s face.
Ye Yang couldn’t understand his words, but he could sense his kind attitude. He grabbed the other end of the towel and mimicked Chen Ping’s movements, wiping his hair.
Seeing Ye Yang begin to move, albeit clumsily, and noticing that his face was rosy rather than looking unwell, Chen Ping sighed in relief. Then he turned around and started scolding the others: “Asking, asking, just asking nonstop. The kid’s still naked! In this weather, he’ll freeze and get sick!”
The other crew members looked sheepish. It just hadn’t occurred to them in the moment.
After Ye Yang cleaned up and changed into some clothes—though they didn’t fit quite right—he looked fresh and tidy. Only his fluffy black short hair added a touch of playfulness, which only made him seem cuter.
Now that his delicate, harmless face and clear, bottomless eyes were fully revealed, these bored sailors felt even more pity for him.
They sat Ye Yang down in the mess hall, constantly urging him to eat more, while staring at him with unconcealed curiosity and firing off all kinds of questions.
As one of the few organisms in the world capable of photosynthesis, Ye Yang was highly adaptable. He’d only been on the ship for fifteen minutes, but he had already gone from initial fear and anxiety to feeling nothing but guilt. He’d never eaten human food before. Not daring to reach for any dishes, he simply clutched the bowl in front of him and awkwardly scooped up plain, tasteless rice with a spoon.
These gruff seafarers were rough around the edges and spoke bluntly, but they meant no harm. Ye Yang’s hidden antennae, using their “sense of smell,” told him that these people were good at heart.
After all, he was a demon who had lived for hundreds of years. Though he was utterly ignorant of modern human society, Ye Yang was a keen observer. By watching the others, he quickly learned how to use chopsticks.
But language remained a major problem.
With no other option, Ye Yang could only pretend to be mute—and an illiterate one at that…
Since he never spoke, the crew couldn’t help but fill in the blanks themselves. Before long, the way they looked at him grew even more sympathetic.
These people had helped him out of kindness, yet here he was, deceiving them.
Ye Yang was already keeping his head down. Now he couldn’t bear to let anyone see the expression he was struggling to hide. He shoveled rice into his mouth, pressing his head even lower, wishing he could burrow under the table.
…
Ye Yang’s luck was fairly good. The ship docked to unload cargo the very next day. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, tossing and turning, and in the end, he decided to slip away quietly.
Ye Yang had left the ocean driven by some inexplicable force, but after that night, he finally set a clear goal for himself—he wanted to find the person who had given him that golden droplet all those years ago.
For over three hundred years, he had always faintly sensed that person somewhere out there—somewhere he didn’t know.
Ye Yang was kind by nature. Through centuries of cultivation, he had gradually absorbed that golden droplet, gaining fragmented memories and extraordinary knowledge. He came to understand that the blurry figure that often appeared in his mind was the droplet’s original owner. He grew increasingly aware of just how immense a blessing it was to have received that droplet—to be able to cultivate, to break free from the short, dull life of a leaf sheep sea slug, and to become who he was now.
The debt of gratitude he owed the one who gave him the droplet was beyond words.
He didn’t know if that being was a great demon or something else. But deep in his heart, there was already an urge—he had to find that person. That person was his benefactor. He would do everything in his power to repay this unfathomable kindness.
While no one was paying attention during the unloading, Ye Yang suppressed his presence, kept a low profile, and slipped off the ship unnoticed. But as a good demon who repays kindness, he left behind a thank-you gift before leaving.
The fishing transport wouldn’t stay docked for long. To free up time to take Ye Yang to the police station, Chen Ping had rushed through his work and finished early. But the moment he stepped into the cabin, he realized Ye Yang was gone. In his place, on Chen Ping’s own bunk, lay a large pearl.
“Whoa, you hit the jackpot, kid! When did you buy that?” Captain Old Ye happened to be passing by and spotted the giant pearl on Chen Ping’s bed.
He pushed past Chen Ping, who was frozen at the door, walked straight over, and picked it up.
“Tsk tsk, this has got to be at least three centimeters in diameter, right?”
Old Ye had spent decades at sea and was experienced. He knew that a pearl’s value wasn’t determined solely by size. This pearl had a lustrous sheen and high roundness. He examined it for a long time without finding a single flaw. With the current market demand for seawater pearls, this one would cost at least ten thousand yuan.
Maybe even over a hundred thousand, given how many wealthy fools were out there these days.
Thinking of this, Old Ye grew more puzzled. “Hiss—you’re a lifelong bachelor. What do you need this for?”
Chen Ping snapped out of it. “I didn’t buy it. It was on my bed when I got back. And… and that mute kid is gone.”
Old Ye paused mid-motion, then instinctively raised his voice. “You mean that little mute gave it to you?!”
That shout drew the others over. They searched high and low but couldn’t find the little mute anywhere. When they checked the surveillance footage—hey! The kid had left on his own!
The chief engineer scratched his head. “Why’d he just leave like that… But I guess, though we call him a kid, he must be seventeen or eighteen, right? Probably doesn’t need us to take him to the cops. He should be fine, yeah?”
Old Ye nodded. “Aside from not talking, the kid didn’t seem to have any other issues. He was sensible—even made his bed in the morning. Dongzhou has good public security. The security booth is less than a hundred meters from the dock, and there are cameras everywhere. He’ll be alright.”
Chen Ping still worried. After thinking it over, he went to the port administration office himself. Only when he saw on the surveillance footage that Ye Yang was peeking around the security booth did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.
When he returned to the ship, he found the idle crew gathered around the pearl, discussing it animatedly:
“So that kid must be from a wealthy family, fell in the water by accident, and this pearl is thanks for Old Chen saving him?”
“Maybe his family is the kind that can’t have their identity known, so he snuck away while we weren’t around.”
“You guys are basically telling fairy tales.”
“Could that kid be a mermaid, like in the legends?”
“Aren’t mermaids all female?”
“There are male ones too. Haven’t you seen The Little Mermaid? The king is male.”
“That’s foreign stuff. Around here, maybe he’s a jiaoren [a Chinese mythical sea creature]!”
Their theories grew wilder and wilder. Eventually, the topic veered off in all directions. Only Chen Ping held the pearl, utterly baffled. “Where on earth was he hiding this?”
In the end, they never reached a conclusion. Chen Ping just shook his head, smiled, and put the pearl away. Work had to continue. A few hours later, the fishing transport set sail again, leaving Dongzhou’s port and heading south.
It would be months before they returned.
…
Ye Yang had no idea how valuable that pearl was in the human world, but it was the best thing he could offer.
What savings could a tiny little sea bunny possibly have? That pearl was the only thing Ye Yang had taken from the place where he was born and raised. After leaving the fishing transport, aside from a set of ill-fitting clothes, he had nothing at all.
Walking along the dock, his eyes were wide open at everything. Everything here was completely different from the world he had once lived in—and vastly different from his inherited memories too. Ye Yang wished he could grow a few more eyes.
With his oversized short-sleeved shirt, loose knee-length pants, and flip-flops that kept tripping him up every other step, one might think he’d stand out. But Ye Yang was, after all, a demon. He had plenty of ways to make others not see him if he wanted.
Soon, he arrived at the security booth.
But contrary to what Chen Ping had assumed, Ye Yang never went inside.
He could barely recognize a few of the characters here and couldn’t understand anything at all. The reason he had come here was mainly because this place gave off an imposing, reassuring sense of security.
After lingering at the entrance for a while, however, Ye Yang turned and left.
Sure, this place with the flashing red and blue lights looked nice, but this wasn’t the time to rest. Finding his benefactor was the real priority! Yeah!
Ye Yang silently encouraged himself, then followed his intuition and continued heading northeast.
“Phew… that was close, that was so close. I almost got flattened. Like…” Ye Yang pressed a hand over his pounding chest, still shaken.
The human world was beautiful and wondrous, but it was also full of danger. He’d lost count of how many times he had nearly come face to face with a roaring, speeding behemoth. It scared him so much that he went from walking to running—only to nearly crash into other people.
“Are you an idiot?! You’re running a red light and not even watching where you’re going?!”
Ye Yang pouted, feeling a little wronged. These people were so fierce—nothing like the ones on the ship. He couldn’t understand what they were saying, but their tone was terrifying!
Carefully, Ye Yang crouched down beside a cluster of shrubs. After nearly getting hit several times in a row, he finally resigned himself to suppressing his overwhelming curiosity and became cautious.
After observing for a while, he gradually began to figure out the patterns.
These fast-moving big things seemed to be like the horse-drawn carriages in his inherited memories—both were means of transport, but their speeds were on completely different levels. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but these vehicles all traveled along fixed paths, and people also followed designated routes. He had been wandering aimlessly, so the scolding wasn’t undeserved.
Ye Yang was quick-witted. Otherwise, with no guidance at all, relying solely on that golden droplet, he wouldn’t have been able to cultivate all the way to human form without ever going wrong. Once he understood, he quickly blended in with the flow of pedestrians.
But even as the sun set, he was still wandering the streets, not knowing where to go.
He’d been searching for most of the day, only to find himself circling the same area. Looks like his intuition wasn’t as sharp as it used to be…
Worse still, back in the ocean, Ye Yang had a vague sense of his benefactor’s direction and location. But ever since coming ashore, though he felt he was getting closer to his benefactor, his ability to sense their presence had only grown weaker.
It was as if some invisible force was blocking his perception.
The sky had turned completely dark. Ye Yang stopped in a park in the city, more lost than ever.
The last couple out for an evening stroll had left. Now, he was the only one left in the park. Ye Yang plopped down onto a bench. He was so hungry. So tired. What should he do now?
This day had been far too intense and nerve-wracking. As he thought it over, before he knew it, Ye Yang fell asleep right there on the bench.
Clouds drifted over, shrouding the moonlight. The park security guard passed the bench many times but never noticed the boy curled up on it. Ye Yang had weakened his presence—unless someone was deliberately looking, ordinary people wouldn’t notice him.
But not long after, a tall figure slowly emerged and stopped beside Ye Yang.
His shadow was strange. There seemed to be something at the level of his shoulders—something like… like a snake slowly raising the front half of its body.
He seemed a little curious, perhaps even intrigued. But in the end, without disturbing Ye Yang, he gently draped an outer coat over the sleeping boy. Then he walked away, gradually disappearing, as silently as he had come.
Leave a Reply