Chapter 125: The Sea of Wandering 18
Fu Dong and Song Qiaowei returned to their residence. Only after opening the door did they realize that the violent wind and huge waves stirred up by the mermaids had caused water to enter the cabin. The floor was soaking wet, and the walls seemed to permeate with a foul-smelling dampness.
“That poetry anthology is becoming more and more aggressive.” Too busy to clean up the room, Song Qiaowei looked at her husband and reminded him with a trace of worry, “The mermaids are no match for Yi Ke at all, not to mention there’s Zhuang Ningyu with the excerpt notebook. If, I mean, if we really choose to stand on the opposite side of the Bard and the Listener, will the poetry anthology attack us in the future as well?”
After all, neither the text on the role cards nor the poems on the title pages specifically indicated the attack range of the poetry anthology. Especially the sentence on the excerpt notebook, “When someone dares to harm your love and poetry,” looked like it would indiscriminately strafe anyone attempting to harm the poet.
Fu Dong was also considering this issue. He didn’t want his head to fly into the air like those ugly mermaids.
Just this afternoon, based on the hint on the King card, he chose to “rebuild the covenant of the past.” Although he didn’t get the so-called scepter, he obtained a promise from the mermaid clan—a promise that they would “eradicate the traitorous Bard for the dignity of the royal power.” But the result was just like now: instead of eradication, it was a unilateral crushing by Yi Ke. It was simply a joke.
Actually, based on the historical combat records of Yi Ke, Zhuang Ningyu, and the entire Order Maintenance Department in Rule Zones, he knew he really shouldn’t choose to be enemies with this group of people. But cooperating with them was equally impossible. Cooperate, successfully leave the Rule Zone, and then what? What awaited him would still be the ultimate judgment of the law, no different from dying in the Rule Zone. In fact, the latter might even be more dignified.
Moreover, for him, the most thorny problem currently wasn’t just how to leave the Rule Zone, but where he would end up after leaving. The promise Liam gave back then was “appearing in the Rule Zone of the Bluebird Pavilion will connect to a Rule Zone located in Paris, France, so when the white mist dissipates, the people inside will also arrive in Paris.”
Bullshit.
Recalling himself in the CEO’s office of the Fu Group months ago, bewitched by Liam’s talk of the “Quantum Matrix” and agreeing to pay a nine-figure sum for it, Fu Dong simply wanted to curse at the air.
“Will we return to Jincheng?” Song Qiaowei asked.
Fu Dong didn’t answer, his face becoming increasingly gloomy.
The room fell into a long silence again.
The tungsten filament bulb on the ceiling swayed with the ship, causing all shadows in the room to sway. The “hissing” electric sound highlighted the hurried and crude nature of this escape. A moment later, Song Qiaowei moved her gaze away from her husband, preparing to get up and make two cups of hot tea, but saw the King card on the table emit a faint yellow light again.
“Hiss!” She tried to pick it up, but unexpectedly shrank back from the scorching temperature, asking somewhat fearfully and uncertainly, “Are there words again?”
Fu Dong nodded, his gaze falling on the floating golden handwriting—
“Look, the Bard and his Listener,
Have already abandoned the noble King,
The King and Queen on the great ship,
Have no one to rely on!”
Four sentences, scrolling and refreshing repeatedly like broken barrage comments, as if the mermaid clan, after being beaten into fleeing in panic, was instigating and cursing in exasperation.
…
In Room 103, the action team members also held a brief analysis meeting, mainly discussing the mermaids’ daily yell—
The initial “Princess” was easy to understand. The later “Liar” was roared at the “King,” which wasn’t hard to guess either—it was cursing the King for lying. But who exactly did the recent “Traitor” refer to?
“Can’t they say a few more words each time?” Qing Gang had a headache. He was already annoyed seeing English, and now with these riddles, he was even more annoyed.
Zhuang Ningyu pointed at Yi Ke.
Ye Jiaoyue nodded: “I also think they mean Xiao Yi.”
The reason was simple. Although tonight’s battle was chaotic with violent storms, lightning, thunder, and fish swarms crawling everywhere, most mermaids’ gaze landed on Yi Ke when they roared “Traitor.”
The Bard was the traitor in the mermaids’ eyes.
Traitor to whom? Yi Ke thought about it. Traitor to the mermaid clan? Then the premise must be that I once took orders from the mermaid clan.
Zhuang Ningyu handed over the writing board, reminding him that there was another possibility: the King had already chosen to cooperate with the mermaid clan. In this way, the Bard who was slaughtering mermaids naturally became a “traitor” to the King he was supposed to be loyal to.
Fu Dong choosing to cooperate with the mermaid clan sounded as reasonable as Zhuang Ningyu obtaining the King’s scepter. Yi Ke leaned on the sofa: “Do you guys think Fu Dong knows now that even if he successfully leaves the Rule Zone, he will ultimately return to Bluebird Pavilion 2801?”
“He should be able to guess, but he can choose not to believe it. Incidentally, he can dream that when the white mist dissipates, he will appear on an uninhabited deserted island in the high seas, escaping death and continuing his life of luxury and dissipation,” Du Bai said. “After all, humans have an instinct to seek advantages and avoid disadvantages.”
Zhuang Ningyu added on the writing board: Although Fu Dong can dream of going to a deserted island, he must also ensure that we won’t follow to the same island; otherwise, his only path is still jail.
And to achieve this goal, besides pinning hope on the Rule Zone itself, there was another more secure method.
The other team members quickly guessed the “other method”: to make everyone except the King and Queen stay in the Rule Zone forever. This was indeed the best outcome for Fu Dong. Assuming all action team members “had an accident,” if he and his wife could really return to the deserted island, they would gain freedom without hindrance. Even if they were unlucky and returned to the Bluebird Pavilion to be arrested, regarding the incident with the action team members, monsters would take the blame for him. Without evidence, his charges likely wouldn’t stack up.
“In other words, he will make a move on us sooner or later,” Yi Ke said. “Everyone be more careful.”
After the meeting, Zhuang Ningyu returned to Room 102 and continued to examine his throat in the mirror, then tried to pronounce sounds more complex than vowels: “Bu.” (No)
Yi Ke hugged him from behind, commenting affectionately: “Wifey, you look like a little goldfish blowing bubbles.”
Zhuang Ningyu: “Xie xie.” (Thanks)
Yi Ke: “Bu ke qi.” (You’re welcome)
Zhuang Ningyu slapped backward. You’re welcome my ass, no one was thanking you.
Yi Ke dodged agilely, resting his chin on his shoulder and nuzzling.
Continue, continue.
…
The next afternoon, at sunset, Fu Dong went to the bow again and “Ah-ed” like a fool for half an hour. Although he didn’t bring Song Qiaowei this time, he still didn’t get the scepter. Qing Gang, responsible for monitoring him, leaned in the cool shadows with his arms crossed, watching the other party “Ah-ing” in exasperation on the steaming deck, sweating profusely. He almost felt a bit sympathetic for this super unlucky guy.
Even the King’s scepter could be intercepted. What can be said? Destiny is not with you; indeed, there can only be one Emperor in the world.
Although the action team members really wanted Fu Dong to “Ah” in vain at a fixed time and place every day—after all, it wasn’t them embarrassing themselves and sweating profusely—it was really a bit fake to let such a big person wander around the stern god-knows-doing-what without intervening. So today, when Fu Dong’s voice cracked from shouting, Qing Gang, having watched enough of the show, finally threw away the melon seed shells in his hand, patted the crumbs off his clothes, and strode over: “Hey, what are you doing?”
The chanting ended here. Fu Dong turned and left with an ashen face, his fingertips tightly clutching the hot King card.
“The mermaid clan will abide by the covenant oath,
Escorting the King’s boat on a safe voyage.”
Indeed, the sea was very tranquil that night. There was no rainstorm, and even the wind blew very gently.
Zhong Mu searched the sea with a strong flashlight but found no trace of mermaids; below the surface was only thick, undissolvable blackness. She turned back and said, “Could they really have been beaten into submission by Xiao Yi? I said I definitely didn’t hear wrong last night; they were really crying while running.”
Crying or not, tonight seemed to pass just like this. Everyone waited on the deck for a while longer before returning to their rooms. Yi Ke leaned on the sofa, continuing to flip through the new game materials sent by the investigation team, trying to cram them all into his brain. On the other side, Zhuang Ningyu was still leaning on the sink doing vocal exercises. He took a deep breath and held it for a long time: “Chi pu tao…” (Eat grapes…)
Yi Ke: “?”
Zhuang Ningyu: “Bu tu…” (Don’t spit…)
Yi Ke: “Wifey, um, isn’t this difficulty level a bit too high for you?”
Zhuang Ningyu: “Pu tao pi.” (Grape skins)
Good! Yi Ke clapped like a seal, “Papapa.”
Zhuang Ningyu panted heavily from exhaustion. His throat muscles, whether due to physiological or psychological factors, were stiff like an iron plate. Mobilizing them was difficult. Only in the last two days had they become slightly looser, but still very hard. He broke out in sweat after practicing for not long. Yi Ke dropped the materials and walked over, pulling him to sit on the sofa: “Rest a bit. The doctor’s orders only said to complete vocal exercises daily, not for you to add time yourself. No more talking today.”
Zhuang Ningyu pressed one hand on his shoulder: “Ni guan…” (You manage…)
“Of course I can manage.” Yi Ke grabbed his wrist and pulled forward, making the person fall into his arms, and slapped his lower back. “Husband managing you is perfectly justified.”
Zhuang Ningyu didn’t mind being managed elsewhere, but just now, a second ago, he suddenly felt the long-numb throat seeping out a bit of itchiness, which quickly connected into a patch. The “hard shell” tightly covering the vocal cords seemed to have cracks too. Perhaps only a layer of plastic film remained between him and recovery; could he vocalize just by piercing it? Realizing this, he forcefully took two abdominal breaths. But for some unknown reason, the cold sweat on his back increased, and his hands unconsciously clenched into fists.
“Wifey, wifey.” Yi Ke quickly noticed his abnormality, pulling him away a bit to observe. “Are you okay?”
Zhuang Ningyu waved his hand and pointed at his throat, but couldn’t express clearly. Worse still, perhaps due to being too nervous and tense, he inexplicably had an illusion of near-tracheal swelling. The oxygen in his chest was thinning at a rapid rate. Yi Ke watched his increasingly rapid breathing and roughly understood the reason. He decisively placed him on the bed, adjusted him to the most comfortable position, then held his hand: “It’s okay, wifey. Your airway is fine, just a bit of hyperventilation. Come on, listen to me, relax.”
Zhuang Ningyu nodded indiscriminately.
“Good boy.” Yi Ke soothed him. “Follow my rhythm to breathe. Don’t rush. Hold your breath first.”
Choosing to actively hold breath under the illusion of imminent suffocation was truly against instinct. Zhuang Ningyu gripped Yi Ke’s arms tightly with both hands, forcibly suppressing the urge to take a deep breath, and cooperatively held his breath following his command. His fingernails unconsciously dug deep into the flesh. In just a few seconds, his whole body was soaked in cold sweat.
“Okay, now exhale slowly through your mouth. Slower. One—two—”
Zhuang Ningyu’s breath trembled. The exhale wasn’t continuous, but he still tried his best to intermittently squeeze his lung space, his eyes fixed on the person in front of him.
Yi Ke’s guidance was professional. More importantly, his voice was the most effective sedative for Zhuang Ningyu. 100% trust between lovers allowed one to hand over the right to breathe without hesitation even on the verge of hypoxia, just waiting to be pulled back from desperation by the other.
With rhythmic exhaling and inhaling, the tightness in his throat finally receded. The numb and cold limbs also regained some sensation. When Zhuang Ningyu’s brain slowly cleared up, he found himself being held in Yi Ke’s arms. The large palm gently stroked his back, seemingly trying to relax that sore spine as well.
“Good boy.” Yi Ke turned his head and kissed his sweat-dampened, cold, pale cheek, his voice very low. “It’s okay now. Rest on your stomach for a while longer.”
Zhuang Ningyu buried his face in his shoulder without moving, but his heart was still pounding wildly. The itchiness in his throat had disappeared, replaced by a dry, cracked stinging pain caused by hyperventilation.
Yi Ke took the water bottle from the bedside table, unscrewed it to feed him. But Zhuang Ningyu’s lips were somewhat uncontrolled; water kept flowing down the corner of his mouth, and his teeth constantly bumped against the glass bottle mouth. Yi Ke wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, didn’t look for another container, but directly tilted his head back to take a big gulp, then leaned in, lips pressing against lips, feeding him slowly, patiently, bit by bit.
After feeding most of the bottle, Zhuang Ningyu pushed him away, waving to indicate he had enough, and coughed with a hoarse voice. Yi Ke stripped off his soaked shirt, glanced at the quilt kicked to the floor just now, didn’t pick it up, but took off his own big coat to wrap the person back into his arms. Familiar body temperature, familiar scent. Zhuang Ningyu wrapped his arms around his waist and back. After a good while, he lifted his head.
Yi Ke reached out to pinch his cheek, eyes very gentle. He didn’t ask what happened just now, nor did he ask if he could speak.
Zhuang Ningyu’s Adam’s apple rolled up and down. He wanted water again. But Yi Ke knew he was just nervous, not actually thirsty, so he intercepted midway, holding that weak wrist and kissing it: “What do you want?”
Zhuang Ningyu swallowed dryly. He didn’t want to talk, wanting to muddle through with his eyes. But Yi Ke didn’t allow it. After struggling for a long time, he could only barely squeeze out a word: “Shui.” (Water)
A very normal voice.
Yi Ke held the water bottle up high: “Call me husband and I’ll give it to you.”
Zhuang Ningyu: “Gun.” (Get lost)
Yi Ke laughed loudly, scooping the person into his arms with one hand and kissing him fiercely.
Having regained his long-lost language ability, Zhuang Ningyu felt a bit at a loss on how to respond. Maybe the psychological shadow from the hyperventilation syndrome just now hadn’t disappeared, or maybe because he hadn’t met his voice for too long, there was a sense of unfamiliarity between them. In short, there was a moment of maladjustment when opening his mouth.
“It’s okay, wifey.” Yi Ke vowed, “After you curse me a few more times, you’ll get used to talking.”
Zhuang Ningyu didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. His gaze swept over the scratch marks on his forearm. He wanted to get the first aid kit, but Yi Ke wouldn’t let go: “No need, I have thick skin.”
“You’re still bleeding,” Zhuang Ningyu had to speak.
Yi Ke said: “Wow, my wifey is really amazing!”
After speaking, he leaned over to rub and nuzzle messily, seemingly determined to make the person curse him a couple of times, but ultimately failed. Zhuang Ningyu lay on the bed, cupping his face with both hands, looking carefully under the morning light leaking into the porthole. Yi Ke was amused by the look, held his hand a bit playfully, and dragged out his tone asking: “Why do I feel like you love me so much?”
Zhuang Ningyu propped up his upper body and kissed him on the chin: “Mmh, I just love you this much.”
