The next day.
An alpha walked through the corridors of the Alliance headquarters wearing a hoodie and jeans, hood pulled low and sunglasses on. Passing staff glanced at him without recognizing him, though none stopped him—after all, the headquarters’ security system would not allow unauthorized entry.
At the restroom, Investigator Travel Dove from the inspection department was washing his hands after breakfast. As he lathered soap and left the tap running, the water suddenly shut off.
Frowning, he looked up—and saw a tall alpha beside him. The man leaned down slightly and smiled. Between his hood and sunglasses, strands of snow-white hair and deep blue eyes were visible.
“Ch, Ch-ge??” Travel Dove blurted out in shock.
Outside the director’s office, someone knocked and entered. Yan Yi’s gaze shifted from the computer screen to Bai Chunian.
“You’re here,” Yan Yi said lightly. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Bai Chunian replied, standing before the desk, removing his hood and sunglasses. Lu Shangjin was sitting on a single sofa to the right, staring at him intently.
“Here to see the chairman, Uncle Jin?” Bai Chunian greeted him casually.
“I’ve been here since last night. Your chairman refused to sleep, so I stayed up with him,” Lu Shangjin said, placing his teacup down with a clink. “Let me take a look at you.”
Bai Chunian’s ears turned slightly red. “Look all you want—I’m fine. No missing limbs, still alive and kicking.”
“Forget that first. What happened to your hair?” Lu Shangjin had noticed the striking white hair from the moment he entered. “And that thing around your neck—what is it? A collar? I let it slide when you got piercings. I even tolerated the tattoos as ‘youth trends,’ but this is getting out of hand. You’re really going too far now. Did someone bully you? Tell me the truth.”
At first, Lu Shangjin hadn’t cared much about Bai Chunian dating a merfolk, but now seeing him return with a collar around his neck, it looked far too much like mistreatment. Worse, that merfolk was clearly no gentle character—cold, arrogant, and domineering. It would be easy for him to overpower a young, obedient white lion who had never dated before. Thinking of acquaintances involved in niche “bondage” circles and their jangling accessories, Lu Shangjin’s vision went dark.
Bai Chunian frowned and smiled faintly. “No, it’s because of Lan Bo…”
Lu Shangjin exhaled. “Forget it. Come work for me instead. You’re not cut out for field operations anymore.”
“Since returning from the Berner Pharmaceutical Factory, the frequency of energy overflow had been increasing more and more.
The more he tried to sleep, the less he could. Forcing himself to fall asleep only made his headache worse, so he got up, picked up the plastic bag of vegetables at the door, and shuffled barefoot in slippers toward the kitchen.
These things had been sent by Bi Lanxing. After escorting them safely back with the convoy of IOA police, Bi Lanxing went to the nearest grocery store to buy fresh vegetables, meat, eggs, and common medicines, then brought them over. After sending them upstairs, he didn’t say much and left.
The kid had always been meticulous and very observant, knowing what should be said and done in any situation. He was the kind of person who was naturally likable. This liquid nitrogen net kidnapping incident had also been resolved thanks to his ability to trace and locate the submarine, allowing useful data to be transmitted in time to the submarine’s available terminal.
“He’s already able to stand on his own.” Bai Chunian looked at the note left in the plastic bag. It read: “Rest well. I can handle the rest of the trivial matters.” The handwriting was smooth and mature.
Bai Chunian took out the leftover rice from the refrigerator, heated it in the microwave, cracked three eggs into it and stirred. Then he lowered his head and silently sliced carrots, cutting each slice into a neat five-petal flower shape, added a large handful of diced ham, stir-fried it in the pan for a while, then turned off the heat and sprinkled in salt and sesame oil.
Because he had specifically learned cooking during a previous suspension period, even simple egg fried rice was made with great care and looked refined and beautiful. He found an unopened jar of golden needle mushroom sauce in the fridge, scooped two spoonfuls over the rice, and carried it to the fish tank, gently tapping on the glass.
“Lan Bo, eat.” Bai Chunian leaned against the fish tank, smiling faintly as he pressed his face against the glass. “Come on.”
Lan Bo loosened from his curled fish-ball state, revealing half his face, and glanced at the food indifferently. “I don’t want to eat.”
Bai Chunian leaned on the tank rim and reached for him. “Don’t be like that. There’s no more king oyster mushroom sauce left. I’ll have Bi Lanxing buy more tomorrow.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Don’t lie. When are you ever not hungry? Let me feed you. I bought a whole box of spoons this time—won’t break them even if you bite them.”
“I said I don’t eat, don’t you understand?” Lan Bo snapped irritably, his fish tail slapping the water hard. Water splashed out of the tank and hit Bai Chunian’s cheek.
Bai Chunian opened his mouth but said nothing in the end. The room fell into silence, so quiet it felt like one could hear the bubbles of the blue-glowing jellyfish drifting in the water.
After a long while, Lan Bo turned back and saw Bai Chunian squatting beside the tank, head lowered, hair covering his eyes. He was completely still, not saying a word, only his fingers idly tracing the floor.
“… ” Lan Bo realized he had taken out his frustration on him. He climbed out of the tank and bent down to look at Bai Chunian’s face.
A drop of water fell onto his hand. Warm.
Lan Bo lifted his face. Bai Chunian’s eyes were red at the corners and lashes, filled with tears. His pupils had shifted into the blue of a white lion’s eyes, like amber reflecting the ocean. His lips were turned down, a deeply aggrieved expression.
“Randi… I wasn’t mad at you…” Lan Bo hurriedly wiped his eyes.
“Sorry… sorry… I didn’t protect you. All this time I haven’t. That’s why you won’t tell me anything,” Bai Chunian’s voice broke with a sob. “I’ll clean that sea area up… just don’t be angry…”
“No… no… Randi, don’t be like this. It’s not your fault.” Lan Bo wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his face against Bai Chunian’s tear-streaked cheek. “I’m just tired. I’m not blaming you.”
“But I blame myself. I’m an Alpha. I should be carrying more. I thought I could do everything… but that was just arrogance.”
“It’s okay. Don’t be sad. I’ll feel heartache. You look so fragile right now, like a tender coral.” Lan Bo kissed his cheek.
“Do you kiss young coral in the sea too?” Bai Chunian asked, eyes still red.
“Yes. It helps them grow faster.”
“How do corals grow?”
“As long as the coral polyps don’t die, they keep growing.”
“How do mermaids grow?”
“At first, the Omega conceives an egg. The egg develops inside the Omega or inside the partner’s brood pouch, and after a year it is born in mermaid form.”
“So did you leave an egg in the research facility?”
“… ” Lan Bo’s fingers stiffened. His gaze wavered. “What do you know? Who told you that?”
“Did you or didn’t you?” Bai Chunian grabbed his hand, eyes bloodshot and unwavering.
“It’s already dead, so it doesn’t count. Now it’s just a pearl—carrying part of my soul.”
“So the little white fish refers to that?” Bai Chunian stared at him, struggling to restrain his collapsing emotions. “I thought you were joking.”
“It couldn’t be helped.” Lan Bo looked at his nails calmly. “Most mermaid organs are in the tail, while humans are in the abdomen. After the mimic drug, organ displacement is inevitable, and some things are expelled. Once expelled, it dies. The foolish researchers still tried to force me to continue gestation, repeatedly putting it back into my body and even suturing me shut to prevent expulsion. It was all useless.”
The facility’s advanced life detection equipment could not detect life wrapped in pearl substance outside the body. It was a tragedy caused by arrogance and misunderstanding.
Bai Chunian’s fingertips on Lan Bo’s tail began to tremble violently.
“So that’s why you had injuries there… and I misunderstood you and other experimental subjects… why didn’t you explain?”
“I don’t like explaining to those who misunderstand. The sea has tides; truth will surface with the ebb. I can wait.”
“You don’t need to blame yourself.” Lan Bo placed a hand in his hair. “Life cycles endlessly. No sorrow, no joy. It is simply nature.”
“Is that so.” Xiao Xun said lightly, “You saved me. I’ll repay you. I don’t owe you anything.”
To Bai Chunian, those words sounded somewhat harsh. He strongly disliked it when close friends kept such clear accounts of favors.
So he deliberately said bluntly, “The words you said right before you passed out felt a bit intentional. You’re not someone who likes to express yourself, and you usually don’t talk much anyway. Especially in a life-or-death situation—were those words meant for the surveillance system?”
Xiao Xun lifted his eyelids slightly. “You heard it.”
“Yeah. But I review the onboard recordings after every mission to help the team debrief. Don’t overthink it.” Bai Chunian picked up an orange from the bedside and began peeling it. “I think even if you had a one-in-ten-thousand ulterior motive, you still wouldn’t do something like that. Because even if the death probability was 37%, or even just 0.1%, once you die, it becomes 100%. There’s no point in gambling when the loss condition is absolute. Even though your ‘all-purpose instrument panel’ ability is very strong, I still don’t think you’re someone who likes to gamble with life and death.”
“You understand me very well.” Xiao Xun bit his lip, his Adam’s apple moving slightly. “But this one gamble… if it makes you finally notice me, if Dr. Han also sees me differently, then it’s worth it to me.”
“Hm? When did I ever not pay attention to you?” Bai Chunian scraped off a strip of orange peel and flicked it into the trash can, where it made a soft sound that felt unusually loud in the quiet ward.
“I’ve always been the least noticeable one. You value Bi Lianxing and Lu Yan more than me. They were born into IOA bloodlines, but I’m an outsider. I wasn’t even originally qualified to enter the Ant Nest Island training base.”
“How are you this competitive?”
Xiao Xun pressed his lips together and said nothing more.
Bai Chunian broke the peeled orange into a small half and handed it to him. It still felt too little, so he added two more segments. “Actually, I’ve only spent three or four years living among people in total. When it comes to social nuance, I might not understand everything you do. If you don’t explain, I’ll definitely misunderstand. I only know that loyal kids are good kids. I can still tell truth from lies.”
“Here. Since that’s the case, let’s gamble again. I’ll flip a coin for you. Guess heads or tails—if you get it right, I’ll give it to you.” Bai Chunian pulled a gold coin from his pocket and flicked it into the air.
Although Xiao Xun found it strange, he still said, “Tails.” His J1 ability, the “All-Purpose Instrument Panel,” gave him extremely accurate probability readings, and he rarely lost ordinary wagers.
The coin spun in the air, tracing an arc as it fell toward Xiao Xun’s hand.
He instinctively reached out and caught it—but what landed in his palm was a golden medal. Because the engraved side was heavier, it naturally landed with the reverse side facing up.
On the front was a carved bird with wings spread toward the sky—the golden Free Bird emblem of the special operations unit. Beneath it were the engraved characters: “Xiao Xun.”
“You guessed right. It’s yours,” Bai Chunian said with a smile.
Xiao Xun stared at the shining badge in his hand, his eyes faintly misting over in a way that was hard to notice.
“I’m leaving now.”
“Wait.” Xiao Xun suddenly grabbed the hem of his clothes. “Chunian-ge.”
Bai Chunian turned back with interest. “What is it?”
“Nothing… it’s nothing.”
As if seeing through him, Bai Chunian said, “I heard the Lingti Family is holding its once-every-ten-years Hunting Selection Meeting next month. I’m quite interested. Are you? Going to those major family gatherings, defeating all your peers in one go, then humiliating those elders who look down on you and walking away coolly afterward… hmm, that sounds pretty satisfying.”
The Hunting Selection Meeting was a competition held every ten years between the main branch of the Lingti Family and allied branch families. Any young member of aristocratic families engaged in bounty hunting would attend.
Xiao Xun didn’t answer, but it was clear he had taken Bai Chunian’s words to heart.
“Alright then, bye. Rest well. Call me if you need anything.”
On his way out, Bai Chunian happened to pass Han Xingqian at the door. Han Xingqian had just returned in a hurry, still wearing his white coat embroidered with the PBB insignia.
“Yo, Dr. Han’s back. Go take care of your little pup first—we’ll talk later.”
Bai Chunian slipped past him with his hands in his pockets. The hem of his coat brushed lightly as they passed. Han Xingqian turned to look at him, and only a strand of pale white hair swept across his field of vision. Something felt different—but also not different. Only the look in his eyes carried a trace of unreadable coldness.