The Merman’s trap

Puppet Empress.

Yu Chen’s expression was unreadable and he remained silent for a moment before speaking:

“I didn’t know that was one of your life goals.”

It was pure, unbridled ambition.

Bai Ling bunched the merman’s shirt in his grip, the mother-of-pearl buttons marking his palm. His voice rose slightly at the end:

“I thought you’d guessed it the first day you met me. After all—”

Bai Ling’s lips curled with keen interest: “Taking the top-tier alpha, the former Emperor, as a ‘bedroom companion’ and riding over your former glory every day to do as I please… that is the dream of every ambitious person climbing up from the bottom.”

Yu Chen wasn’t angry. On the contrary, he smiled. “You also have dreams like this?”

“I have,” Bai Ling replied without hesitation.

Though, there was a slight difference.

That was a long time ago. Back then, his revolutionary squad had just been formed; it was a ragtag group of the old, weak, and disabled mercenaries.

They had all been forced onto that path by life, often huddling together, drinking coffee that tasted like dishwater and smoking low-grade contraband tobacco; dreaming about the future while staring at the drifting smoke.

The most popular topic among them was what they wanted to do after storming the palace.

Most wanted to bomb the Tyrant; a few wanted to loot the treasures. Bai Ling wanted both, but beyond that, he had a smaller goal:

“If there are any merfolk left, I’ll catch one to have some fun with. After I’m done, I’ll hitch him up in the command cabin to be my mecha-spirit. When I hit an enemy ship, they’ll immediately sing me a hymn of victory.”

Reflecting on it now, if he could hitch Izsu Paraiso up in the fleet headquarters to act as his hype-man, it might be even more thrilling.

Yu Chen nodded. “I see. Singing victory hymns. Anything else?”

He took this opportunity to understand exactly how many more outrageous little ideas were inside that bird brain.

Then, he’d note them down in a notebook.

And find a chance to let him experience them all.

“And when I go out to work, don’t worry your pretty head about it. Just wash up, brush your teeth, and wait for me,” Bai Ling proposed naturally.

He waited for the old fish to show an expression of humiliation.

Instead, the man smoothed his collar, released Bai Ling’s hand, and composedly felt his way to the door. He bent down to pick up the discarded sweater, preparing to leave.

Bai Ling was incensed: “? Where are you going? I’m not finished yet.”

Yu Chen’s posture was elegant, but his words were completely unexpected:

“To brush my teeth. And take a bath.”

Bai Ling: “……”

One had to admit, no wonder he was once an emperor.

He could attack or retreat, move with ease, and take any exit offered. He knew exactly how to play the game.

---

Perhaps it was because he had been running all day, but after the exhaustion passed, Bai Ling found he couldn’t fall asleep.

He simply climbed out of bed, brought out the large pile of medals, and asked the little robot for stationery and mailing bags. He laid them out in neat piles, one on the left, one on the right, on the small table, prepared to write late into the night.

He drafted several openings, but none felt right.

He had never met these officers; aside from their shared history of persecution, they had nothing in common. Under these circumstances, a tone too intimate might stir up painful memories, while a message too brief would seem cold and lacking in empathy.

Knock, knock. Someone tapped softly on the door.

Bai Ling looked up. At that same moment, the other man’s eyes shifted downward. Their gazes met in the middle, almost as if they were looking at each other.

Unfortunately, those eyes, as deep as imperial emerald, remained unfocused.

“I’ve brought the postage stamps,” the merman whispered.

This time, he deliberately maintained a sense of boundaries. Even with the door half-open, he didn’t take a single step inside until Bai Ling spoke.

This was exactly why Bai Ling ignored the crowd of young, sturdy Alphas and preferred to associate with this old guy.

The old man had lived long enough to see things clearly. He wouldn’t get into a huff over his pride like a young person and ignore someone for days. Instead, because he valued himself and knew exactly what he wanted, he would put his needs first.

And then…

Lead the person into a trap.

Even if this “change” was just surface-level effort, Bai Ling quite appreciated it.

— He wasn’t afraid of the man faking it; he was afraid of him not faking it.

“Come in,” Bai Ling said indifferently.

This was the guest bedroom. Only two small lamps were on: one by the headboard and one next to the two-seater sofa where Bai Ling sat.

When Yu Chen entered the area within the reach of the light, Bai Ling stole a glance and realized he looked slightly different than usual.

He wasn’t dressed as grandly. He had changed into a pair of double-buckled, high-waisted Neapolitan flannel trousers and a cold-toned linen-cotton one-piece collar shirt. As usual, the top two buttons were undone and the hand-stitched placket followed the contours of his physique, making him look domestic and lazy, perfect for lazing around.

Bai Ling’s heart skipped a beat before he immediately wiped his expression.

…He’s dressed like he’s here for a midnight tryst.

“Who are you trying to impress by dressing so provocatively?” Bai Ling said what he was thinking, only to realize afterward that it sounded like…

Flirting.

“Studies show that a healthy, vibrant male appearance helps improve a female’s mood and extends her lifespan.” Yu Chen sat down directly, adjusting his pant legs and intentionally or unintentionally revealing the shackles on his ankles.

He rested his hands on his crossed knees and turned toward Bai Ling. The soft, warm light fell across his face, making him so handsome it was hard to breathe:

“By the way, that is the result of a study on your bird species, and it also applies to you.”

In short: I dressed like this for you.

Bai Ling controlled his expression and held out his hand. “Where are the stamps?”

“Right here.” Yu Chen took out a small box and picked up an electronic steel stamp.

These electronic stamps had built-in chips that synced with the mailing bag codes. Depending on the user’s purchased permissions, they were categorized by the Capital Planet, Imperial Territory, Galactic, or Universal shipping ranges.

Bai Ling had no fixed address and couldn’t apply for such a stamp, so he had to borrow the merman’s.

He checked it and confirmed it was a stamp capable of interstellar shipping. Among this batch of medals, many of the officers lived on desolate, remote frontier planets.

He could guess the reason…

They had likely been discharged mid-service due to injuries, received low pensions, and couldn’t sustain themselves on the high-cost Capital Planet, leaving them no choice but to live on remote planets with lower rent.

Bai Ling said nothing as he stuffed a wad of cash into the envelopes.

This was the money he’d made from selling the ship’s jewelry.

He didn’t take his own share; the remainder, when split among everyone, came to 20,000 Interstellar Credits per person.

This amount was far from enough to compensate for the suffering they had endured, but if it happened to solve someone’s urgent need, it wouldn’t be in vain.

But a new problem arose.

How can he reasonably explain the source of this money so that everyone can accept it?

“Are you planning to write to other soldiers?” Yu Chen was incredibly sharp; from the moment he heard the AI fetching paper, he guessed what Bai Ling was doing.

Perhaps because the merman hadn’t used the word “victim,” Bai Ling felt his heart relax slightly, and he blurted out:

“Yes. I have some of their old belongings, some medals and honor ribbons. I’m also planning to send money, consider it ‘spoils’ taken from that ship.”

Halfway through, he frowned and stopped.

Yu Chen seemed to know where his dilemma lay. After a moment’s thought, he suggested: “Perhaps you could write it in the name of the [Department of Veterans’ Affairs].”

Bai Ling recalled, “Wasn’t that derpartment disbanded long ago?”

If he remembered correctly, not long after the Old Empire fell, the Tyrant had rushed to slash military spending, and this veteran’s welfare program was the first to go.

Yu Chen said nonchalantly, “It was disbanded, but it was later consolidated by private capital.”

Bai Ling didn’t believe it for a second. “What kind of ‘private capital’ is stupid enough to run a business at a loss?”

He turned his head and saw Yu Chen slightly arch an eyebrow.

Bai Ling: “?”

…I see.

There’s only one person in the world happy to run a losing business.

Another thought popped into Bai Ling’s head. This fish is still secretly dumping money into subsidies. Is that why he’s so poor he can’t fix his mental power and turned himself blind?

It seems he really needs to find more sponsors, the more the better.

He had to remember to ask Anna for news tomorrow.

Bai Ling accepted Yu Chen’s suggestion to pin the matter on the [Department of Veterans’ Affairs]. Since Yu Chen dared to keep doing it privately, he naturally had the confidential channels to handle it. It was far safer and more logical than sending it in his own name.

This way, the source of the money was much easier to explain.

“Respected veteran, here is your delayed stipend compensation… achoo… cough, cough…”

As Bai Ling was reciting, he accidentally sneezed and coughed twice as his throat felt itchy.

Yu Chen frowned. “Did you catch a cold outside?”

“Probably.” Bai Ling rubbed his nose carelessly. He might have caught some wind when he was shouting down from the hatch, or while he was at the square. Then he’d rolled around in the snow on the roof with the old man. That might have been the moment his immune system took a hit.

But how come this guy is perfectly fine?

Bai Ling looked at him suspiciously.

Yu Chen sensed his burning gaze. “What is it? Are you feeling unwell anywhere else?”

Bai Ling asked bluntly, “Did you take your medicine today? That mental tonic.”

“Not yet. Did you take cold medicine?”

“……”

Of course not.

Ten minutes later, the two of them habitually took their pills under mutual supervision.

The medication must not stop.

And it’s best not to resist.

Otherwise, given their current seemingly harmonious but precarious relationship, they could very well start arguing again at the slightest provocation.

After taking the cold medicine, Bai Ling propped up his groggy head and continued writing: “…Recently, while exterminating ‘rats’ in the archives, we discovered a spare medal with your name on it. To prevent your current one from being lost, we are sending this copy along with your stipend…”

Yu Chen listened to the intermittent pauses of the pen. He knew the medicine was kicking in; the bird’s head was likely nodding off.

“A sick person should go to bed early,” he couldn’t help but say, his tone carrying a faint hint of a command.

“That applies to you too, hmph,” Bai Ling yawned into his hand, snapping back grumpily.

You’ve started using formal address again.

The heavy weight that had been hanging in Yu Chen’s heart turned into a small feather that fluttered down lightly.

He touched the stationery on the desk and called the AI to bring his usual tactile caliper. Pressing his long fingers against the paper to gauge the line spacing, he said:

“In that case, let’s go to sleep together.”

Bai Ling arched his eyebrows in surprise as he saw the man begin to write a line of smooth, powerful characters: “Thank you all for risking everything for the motherland. Glory shall shine alongside history…”

It was written quite well. Bai Ling watched for a while and then let him be.

They finished writing through the night. It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning that Bai Ling remembered something.

It’s strange.

Why hadn’t either of them thought to print a template and just swap the names?

Bai Ling sat up, clutching his aching forehead; the after-effects of the cold hadn’t left yet. He rubbed his messy hair and looked around with bleary eyes.

Last night, they had only finished the 113 letters, but hadn’t put them in envelopes. Now, looking over, every mailing bag was perfectly folded and ready to be taped shut.

Beside them on the table was a large, wide envelope.

“What’s this?”

Bai Ling hopped out of bed and picked up the unfamiliar envelope. First, he pulled out a small card:

[Surrender Gift]

Bai Ling: A gift?

He flipped it over and found a stack of black film inside…

A full set of X-rays, a thick stack covering every part of the body. It was practically an instruction manual for someone’s skeletal structure.

No, it was a blueprint.

The back of the card read: [The design drawings that the mechanic needs, offered by my own hand.]

Bai Ling’s expression froze. He suddenly remembered what he had said while riding the merman into the waterway: “For maintenance, of course I have to understand your internal structure.”

That was just something he had said in passing.

He pulled out an X-ray film and held it up to the light. The white lines representing bone and muscle meandered across the pure black negative. Through it, the traces of the merman’s growth and injuries were laid bare.

Like an ancient tree with its core peeled back layer by layer, unreservedly displaying its rings to him.

A flush of crimson rose to Bai Ling’s cheeks. He instinctively pressed the back of his hand against his scalding neck as his heart thumpeduncontrollably.

That old man, giving him a gift like this…

I surrender to you, willing to be your captive.

Dammit!

He loved it.

---

Author’s Note:

The merman’s gesture has a bit of that “bowing my head willingly like an ox for the child” vibe, but also a hint of “I’d rather fall into ruin.” Tsk tsk, anyway, it’s quite a lot to savor.