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Chapter 43: “Little fish, you’re really nice.”
Tang Cuo was shocked and immediately took two steps back, only to regain his composure in amazement. “Is it yours?!”
His backward movement was noticed by Gao Shu, and his eyes darkened. “Yes, it’s mine. What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”
Tang Cuo couldn’t help but find Gao Shu both strange and annoying. It seemed like he had to repeat the same sentence several times for it to register in his memory.
“I like it,” he said, watching the shark circle inside the watery protective shield above his head. “It’s really beautiful.”
Unconsciously, Gao Shu, who had tensed up his entire body, suddenly relaxed at Tang Cuo’s words. He turned and walked to a corner of the rooftop, sitting in a chair beside a ficus tree, covering his face with his hands.
Tang Cuo asked, “Are you crying?”
Gao Shu immediately denied, “Of course not.”
He was filled with a light and cheerful feeling, just like the colorful hues of the evening sky. There was no reason to cry; he was just a bit excited, for himself and for meeting Tang Cuo.
“…It’s a swordfish shark,” Gao Shu said. “As you can see, it does look quite scary.”
Tang Cuo looked at him, then at the shark that was staring at him through the transparent water membrane. “Not scary at all.”
Gao Shu: “…”
Now, he suspected that Tang Cuo might have poor eyesight.
“Its snout, its appearance… Are you talking lies with your eyes open?” Gao Shu thought, ‘Is it because I’m Gao Tianyue’s son or because I’m handsome that you’re trying to flatter me?’ He came up with many reasons in his mind, and each one undoubtedly made him angry.
Tang Cuo didn’t pay any attention to what he was thinking; he was too busy staring at the giant shark above his head.
The swordfish shark’s size rarely exceeded 4 meters, but this giant shark was probably over 30 meters long. Tang Cuo knew that this was not Gao Shu’s original spiritual body; it had been enlarged. It was the excessive prominence of its snout and the sharp, conical teeth in its mouth that gave it an overwhelming presence. Just hovering in the air was enough to strike fear into one’s heart. Among the sharks Tang Cuo had seen, it was undoubtedly one of the least “good-looking” in terms of appearance. The protruding snout of the swordfish shark disrupted the overall smooth lines of its body, making it look like a bizarre and unlikable creature from the deep sea.
But when Tang Cuo said “good-looking,” he wasn’t referring to its physical appearance or comfort.
The swordfish shark had soft, pastel-colored skin all over, thanks to its special semi-transparent form, and the blood flowing beneath its skin gave it a unique pink hue. When he had seen it that night, the light from the lamps and the stars reflected off the watery protective membrane and the shark’s skin, making it difficult for Tang Cuo to discern its true color. Now, in the light of the setting sun, the swordfish shark was moving its menacing face in a beautiful and rhythmic manner, delighting in its round, watery protective shield.
Tang Cuo genuinely found it beautiful. Whether it was the giant shark that had slowly moved among the city’s skyscrapers when driving away the octopus that day or the giant shark that had appeared in his eyes like a king of the night when he was exhausted, it had always had the same appearance: serene and dignified, as if it disregarded all human judgments.
…Of course, all of this was just his imagination. Tang Cuo quickly reminded himself: the reason the swordfish shark appeared serene and dignified was entirely because Gao Shu’s spiritual world was equally serene and dignified.
“Creation is truly marvelous,” Tang Cuo said with a smile to Gao Shu. “Beauty and ugliness are human standards; nature doesn’t use appearance to select its own people.”
Gao Shu asked, “Isn’t that the conclusion from the chapter on spiritual entities in ‘The Sentinel’s General Knowledge’?”
Tang Cuo replied, “I studied Guide’ General Knowledge,’ but this passage is the same in both books. I really like this sentence; I even wrote it down in my little notebook.”
Gao Shu: “That’s out of the blue; are you accustomed to reciting books?”
Tang Cuo grinned at him.
But Gao Shu understood what Tang Cuo meant by “good-looking,” and the unwarranted frustration he had felt disappeared without a trace. He even felt an urge to have a detailed conversation with Tang Cuo about his swordfish shark.
“It can also become smaller,” Gao Shu said calmly, controlling his inner excitement. He knew this would surely excite Tang Cuo: spiritual bodies that can become smaller are rarer than those that can become larger, and those that possess both abilities are exceptionally uncommon.
Tang Cuo’s eyes widened first in surprise and then lit up with excitement. “A spiritual body that can both enlarge and shrink? I’ve only read about it in books; I’ve never actually encountered one!”
Gao Shu restrained his expression and said with a practiced air of enthusiasm, “Well, since you’re so eager to see it.” He finally smiled, although he quickly put on a stern face again, adopting an attitude of apparent familiarity with the person before him.
He beckoned to the swordfish shark, and the giant shark gracefully swam closer to him. To get a closer look at the swordfish shark, Tang Cuo hurriedly ran over to Gao Shu’s side.
“Wow,” he didn’t hide his excitement, “its teeth are so beautiful!”
Gao Shu thought that one of Tang Cuo’s shortcomings might be “poor eyesight”.
He raised his hand, showing his palm to the swordfish shark. The giant shark approached slowly, and its pointed snout gently touched Gao Shu’s fingertip.
A strong wind instantly swept up from the rooftop, causing people to sway. Gao Shu instinctively grabbed Tang Cuo’s hand. Tang Cuo didn’t notice his actions; his eyes were fixed on the gradually shrinking shark in the whirlwind.
The swordfish shark finally shrank to about 20 centimeters in length. Tang Cuo quickly pulled his hand away from Gao Shu’s and cupped his hands like a bowl, allowing the swordfish shark to land right in his palm. The shark couldn’t touch his skin, but the cold, watery protective membrane made contact with Tang Cuo’s palm. The tiny swordfish shark spun around in his hand, occasionally opening its large mouth, as if blowing bubbles or hunting for prey.
Gao Shu: “…”
To divert Tang Cuo’s attention from his own spiritual body, Gao Shu told him about the first time he had touched the swordfish shark.
At that time, he was only three or four years old and couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t manifest a stable spiritual body. Every time he released his spiritual body, it appeared as a hazy mist. The teachers at the kindergarten suggested that the stress from relatives’ children or not having touched his favorite animal might be the cause, so Gao Tianyue and his wife took Gao Shu on a trip to Australia.
The choice of Australia as their destination was strongly recommended by Gao Shu’s mother. She was determined to let Gao Shu touch and see a koala.
Gao Tianyue reminded her that it would be more suitable for their Sentinel’s adorable carnivorous animal, the numbat, rather than a koala. At the time, Gao Shu had no knowledge of his parents’ plans; he touched kangaroos, koalas, numbats, and even the cold, scaly snakes.
But the day before they returned home, his spiritual body was still a shapeless mist. His mother was deeply disappointed, sighing and feeling guilty. Gao Shu was too ashamed to speak to his parents and silently followed them along the beach.
“Touch some fish?” Gao Tianyue suggested, “My spiritual body is also an aquatic creature, and there’s nothing wrong with aquatic animals, right, son?”
Gao Shu nodded, but his mother did not agree. She didn’t like the cold, watery protective membrane and wanted something small that she could hold in her arms.
There was a fishing boat docked at the pier, unloading its cargo, and the whole family went to see it. Behind the fishing boat was a large fishing net with something wriggling inside.
Gao Tianyue held Gao Shu and went to take a look. A pink swordfish shark was trapped in the fishing net, struggling desperately.
“Dad, it’s injured.” Gao Shu looked at the shark that was larger than himself. “It’s bleeding a lot. Should we save it?”
After consulting the fishermen, Gao Tianyue told Gao Shu that the swordfish shark had been trapped because it typically lived in the deep sea. Once pulled up to shallow waters, the changes in pressure and water pressure would cause its blood vessels and muscles to burst.
His mother covered her ears, exclaiming how terrifying it was, and Gao Shu didn’t understand her words at all. He just looked at the struggling fish in the net and felt sorry for it.
“Could you let it go?” Gao Shu shouted to the fishermen. “Uncle, can you release it back into the sea?”
No one understood what he was saying. More and more people gathered on the pier, and someone even paid money to buy the swordfish shark, instructing the fishermen to pull it up directly. They wanted to see if the fish would really explode on land as soon as it left the water. People were pushing and shoving, and Gao Tianyue left Gao Shu by the shore, instructing him not to run around, before diving into the crowd to persuade his wife.
Sounds of amazement and cheers came from deep within the crowd, accompanied by excited applause. Gao Shu was too short to see, but he could smell a strong and peculiar odor, a mixture of fishy and bloody scents.
Someone was dragging the fishing net up from the pier. Gao Shu obediently stood on the side, and he heard his father calling his name, but his attention was completely captivated by the vague mass of flesh and blood within the fishing net.
The shark had died.
Gao Shu was crying when his mother held him. Onlookers thought he was scared, but he was actually heartbroken. When the swordfish shark left the water, it completely burst and lost its life. Gao Shu would rather not touch it and didn’t want to see it turn into a lifeless mass on land. He hugged his mother’s neck, listening to his parents argue. His mother was disgusted by the dead swordfish shark, blaming Gao Tianyue for choosing this particular pier for their walk.
That night, as Gao Shu stood in the bathtub after taking a shower, he once again attempted to release his spiritual entity. It was a task he practiced every day. However, unlike before, in recent days, his parents have stopped paying attention to his progress.
Gao Shu had been thinking about the swordfish shark. He had seen pictures of this type of shark in the popular science books his father had bought. The sensation of the shark’s blood seemed to still linger on his hand, and it made Gao Shu feel a little scared. But soon, he caught a glimpse of a round mist swirling in front of him. The mist continued to roll and gradually condensed into a fish with its tail swaying.
It was pink, cheerful, and wrapped in a watery protective membrane. It swam toward Gao Shu and flicked its tail in excitement.
“That feeling…” Even when recalling the first time he had seen his own spiritual body, Gao Shu still felt goosebumps all over his body. “It’s so incredible, so exciting.”
Tang Cuo nodded enthusiastically, completely understanding this marvelous sensation. In a child’s world, everything was both vast and small, and there was nothing in the world that came entirely from themselves, something that belonged to them completely. Toys and food were given by parents, bedding and pillows were prepared by family members, and the pets they raised were free to go wherever they pleased, often to places the child couldn’t reach or at speeds the child couldn’t match. However, when a child’s spiritual body took shape before them for the first time, they experienced the wonder and beauty of life for the very first time. It was something they had created themselves, entirely their own, and it would remain closely entwined with their soul, living and dying together.
Little Gao Shu climbed out of the bathtub, not bothering to put on his clothes, and ran outside wrapped in a towel. The swordfish shark swam behind him, following closely. He joyfully rushed into his parents’ room and pointed to the little fish swimming on his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear: The little fish had come back to life!
Gao Shu still remembered his mother’s scream from that time.
“She said that every time she thought of my spiritual body, she would have nightmares, dreaming of the exploding shark and the blood on the pier.” Gao Shu shrugged. “Believe it or not, she tirelessly sought experts from another world, asking all sorts of charlatans and fortune tellers if there was a way to change a child’s spiritual body after it had already formed.”
Tang Cuo was left speechless. He quickly tried to console Gao Shu, saying, “Well, it can happen… Sometimes, some children don’t even like their own spiritual bodies.”
“But how is that the same?” Gao Shu looked at Tang Cuo and thought, “Every child depends on their spiritual bodies as they grow up, but parents are different. If they don’t like it, they just don’t like it. I know they love me, but they don’t like my spiritual bodies, and what’s the difference between not liking it and not liking me?”
Gao Tianyue himself had a water-based spiritual body. He wasn’t rejecting the swordfish shark; he was rejecting the unpleasant memories associated with it. Because his wife had a strong aversion to their son’s spiritual body, in order to bring peace to both of them, Gao Tianyue often persuaded Gao Shu: couldn’t he keep the little fish from appearing? It was too frightening.
At a young age, Gao Shu couldn’t yet comprehend that the concepts of beauty and ugliness were shaped by invisible standards in the world. He couldn’t understand why his parents didn’t like his little fish, and Gao Tianyue’s persuasion only made him more acutely aware: he hadn’t been mistaken; his parents truly couldn’t accept his spiritual body.
“When I was in the second grade, I heard that there was an older brother in the higher grades who was a guide and had a water-based spiritual body.” Gao Shu held up his hand and waved it, “A very beautiful red-tailed goldfish.”
Gao Shu liked that fish, as well as the handsome older brother. He watched the goldfish sway gracefully in its transparent bubble and raised his hand to get the older brother’s attention. Excited, he told him, “My spiritual body is also a little fish, but it’s slightly ugly.” The other young sentinels and guides who had gathered around encouraged him to release it to see, and a very excited Gao Shu, who had forgotten his father’s warning, proudly revealed his swordfish shark.
“I almost got reprimanded,” Gao Shu laughed when he reminisced about the past. “It caused a small commotion, with everyone being frightened and running around; someone fell down, and the scene was filled with various spiritual bodies running amok.”
Tang Cuo didn’t find this funny at all. Gao Shu was so young at the time, and his world was made up of three parts: his family, whom he relied on; his friends, whom he trusted; and his mentors, whom he revered. All three aspects of his world had simultaneously rejected Gao Shu and his little fish. Tang Cuo could hardly imagine how much of a blow this was for Gao Shu.
“It should have been better in college, right? Especially after we’ve studied spiritual bodies, there shouldn’t be anyone who’s so… ” Tang Cuo carefully chose his words, “… lacking in tact, saying that your little fish is not beautiful.”
Gao Shu chuckled.
“As grown-ups, who keeps praising someone else’s spiritual body all the time?” Gao Shu paused and said softly, “Except for you.”
A strange spiritual body aura surged on the rooftop, and Gao Shu’s arm felt a little itchy. He looked down and saw a small panda standing up, with its two paws resting on his arm and its nose nuzzling his face.
His own spiritual body wasn’t welcome, but Gao Shu knew that Tang Cuo’s spiritual body was entirely different and very popular.
He picked up the panda, feeling a bit understanding of why his mother insisted on him having a fluffy soul companion. It radiated such a warm and reliable feeling.
“You’re really nice.” Gao Shu rubbed the panda’s round ears and said, “No one likes my little fish.”
Tang Cuo, indignant, said, “That’s because they don’t have any taste.”
Actually, Gao Shu hadn’t expected any specific words of comfort from Tang Cuo, but the panda in his arms made him happy. He told Tang Cuo that when he felt troubled, he would drink on the rooftop and then release the swordfish shark during the night, allowing it to leisurely patrol the night sky. It couldn’t stray too far from him, but this moment of leisure and happiness was enough to make his little fish content, which in turn calmed him.
Tang Cuo thought for a moment and asked, “The other day, when I told you I had just finished overtime and was heading home, did you intentionally release your little fish to find me?”
He also called the swordfish shark a “little fish.” Gao Shu’s heart warmed, and his cheeks blushed slightly. “Yes.”
“…You’re really nice,” Tang Cuo said with a smile.
Gao Shu: “…”
This statement wasn’t directed at Gao Shu. Tang Cuo pressed his face against the water-protective membrane in his hand, muttering, “Little fish, you’re really nice.”
The panda in Gao Shu’s arms wriggled for a while, searching for a comfortable position, and then settled down without moving. Gao Shu didn’t have time to respond to Tang Cuo; he was filled with vigilance and confusion. It was clear that, compared to him, the swordfish shark could capture Tang Cuo’s attention more effectively.
“The Swordfish Shark?” Bai Xiaoyuan raised her head from ‘How to Improve Tarot Divination Techniques – The Unique Secrets of Qing Meizi,’ and said, “I know it, a pretty ugly type of shark.”
“Not ugly at all!” Tang Cuo glanced at her book and said, “My sister bought this series too; she’s currently reading the sixth book, ‘The Alchemy of Victory in Love.'”
Bai Xiaoyuan wasn’t very interested. “The sixth book is quite expensive; luckily, I don’t need it.”
Xie Zijing asked, “How expensive is it?”
Bai Xiaoyuan replied, “Originally 53 yuan, but it’s become a rare edition. The signed copies with Qing Meizi’s autograph are being resold for up to 6,000 yuan on Xianyu.”
Tang Cuo: “…”
It seemed like his sister had bought a signed copy.
Bai Xiaoyuan added, “It’s useless; Qing Meizi hasn’t even had a romantic relationship himself. How could his love techniques possibly work?”
Xie Zijing asked, “How do you know he hasn’t had one?”
Bai Xiaoyuan: “How can someone like him, a deity, possibly have a romantic relationship with ordinary mortals?”
Xie Zijing and Tang Cuo exchanged glances, holding back their laughter as they flipped through their respective books. They had been assigned this task by Qin Ge. Qin Ge had rushed off to the Criminal Investigation Department as soon as he arrived at the office, leaving Xie Zijing bored and with nothing to do but read.
The Transfer Division was currently in its off-peak season, and other than organizing routine documents, the staff had relatively little to do. Bai Xiaoyuan had finished reading Qing Meizi’s love techniques and decided to stretch her arms, catching Tang Cuo searching for pictures of swordfish sharks online. Suddenly, she became very curious about something. “Gao Shu is the owner of that large fish you like. So, do you like him more, or do you like the big fish more?”
Tang Cuo was taken aback. “I don’t like Gao Shu.”
Xie Zijing, his head spinning from the foreign names in the book, perked up and said, “But haven’t you had nosebleeds recently? Such rare primary responses can be seen as an indicator of affection. You don’t like him?”
Tang Cuo explained, “A physical response doesn’t necessarily equate to emotional feelings. It can only indicate that he has a sexual appeal to me. According to ‘General Knowledge for Guides,’…”
“Alright, enough with the book,” Bai Xiaoyuan interrupted. “I get it. You like the fish.”
Tang Cuo thought about it and felt that Bai Xiaoyuan’s blunt and straightforward conclusion wasn’t entirely accurate. He had felt a bit uncomfortable when he saw Gao Shu interacting with a tall, handsome, and popular actor while they were practicing weightlifting. Since all of his previous crushes had been in online relationships and he’d never had any in-person romantic interactions, Tang Cuo thought for ten seconds and finally affirmed Bai Xiaoyuan’s deduction, “Well, I like the fish.”
Bai Xiaoyuan smiled, “Alright, big sister is reassured.”
She picked up a piece of paper from the desk, saying, “You two can continue your conversation. I’m going to find Qin Ge and get a sick note.”
“Qin Ge is over at the Criminal Investigation Department,” Xie Zijing reminded her. “Don’t forget to bring some candy back!”
Bai Xiaoyuan arrived at the Criminal Investigation Department and was surprised to find it in a state of commotion. Several serious-looking individuals were discussing matters with Lei Chi, who was standing in her designated area. When she entered, Lei Chi glanced at her but quickly refocused on her work.
“Qin Ge, can you sign a leave request for me? I need a day off tomorrow,” Bai Xiaoyuan handed the paper to him.
Qin Ge had been waiting by the window and quickly signed his name with a brush. He had been at the Criminal Investigation Department for half an hour, and Lei Chi hadn’t stopped working the entire time. Qin Ge needed to discuss something with Lei Chi regarding Lu Quan, but Lei Chi also had questions for him, and the unexpected progress on their current case was keeping him occupied.
“Based on Xie Shaoqian’s statement, we’ve applied for a search warrant,” Lei Chi put on his jacket. “The crime scene was at Xie Shaoqian’s home, correct?”
“Right,” Liu reported hastily as he followed him, “Our intention in visiting Xie Shaoqian was to confirm the details of his departure from Beijing last week, but as soon as he saw us arriving in a police car, and with Xiao Wang and Xiao Zhang still organizing handcuffs and firearms, he got frightened. He turned and ran without waiting for us to question him. He was so terrified that he confessed to everything. He’s currently detained at the local police station under their jurisdiction. He’s just an ordinary person, so he can’t be interrogated in our Criminal Investigation Division. Captain Lei, should I go with you?”
Lei Chi put on his coat and nodded. As he passed by Qin Ge, he said, “I’m going out for a bit. I’ll be back this afternoon to find you.”
He also nodded at Bai Xiaoyuan and then left with Liu.
The day after Wang Zheng’s parents went missing, Xie Shaoqian was driven to a small coastal town nearby. He had only stayed there for one night and returned the following day. Lei Chí’s subordinates discovered this information by checking surveillance footage. They had initially wanted to confirm Xie Shaoqian’s purpose for leaving Beijing but were surprised by the unexpected turn of events.
“Xie Shaoqian claims he was only responsible for disposing of the bodies,” Liu whispered after they got into the car. “The murders and dismemberment were all done by Wang Zheng.”
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