Heart of the Ocean (9): Gently kiss

“Woof woof woof (what an idiot)!” Xiao Bai, who came running at the noise, was the first to mock Wen Yi with a jeering tone.  

In front of outsiders, Xiao Bai would definitely stand up for Wen Yi, but that didn’t stop it from settling a personal score now. Who told this guy to keep complaining in the last round that it was just a lowly nanny robot? Well, now the tables had turned—this time, it was Wen Yi who had become a brainless, foolish jellyfish. Just as the human saying goes: Fortune turns like a wheel, and now Wen Yi was the fool!  

Wen Yi lowered his head to look at himself, then glanced at Tan Xiao. Instantly, his eyes turned as red as ripe peaches, flushed with obvious embarrassment. Originally as delicate and translucent as crystal, the glass-like beauty now had slightly reddened eyes that made him look even more pitiable and endearing.  

“Xiao Bai, apologize to Wen Yi!” For the sake of family harmony, Tan Xiao naturally wouldn’t let Xiao Bai mock Wen Yi like this.  

“Sorry.” Xiao Bai eventually apologized, obediently shutting up and retreating back to its own cozy little nest.  

Tan Xiao sighed and pulled the beautiful jellyfish—who had just been teased by Xiao Bai—out of the fish tank. “You’re still wearing clothes. You can’t just dive into the tank like that.”  

After entering the water, Wen Yi didn’t transform into a mermaid-like form like some mythical creature. Instead, his long, pale, slender legs dangled over the edge of the glass tank, his soft waist half-submerged in the water, his clothes mostly soaked but still maintaining his human form.  

He wasn’t that fragile. The redness in his eyes earlier wasn’t from anger at Xiao Bai’s mockery—after all, sea creatures and dogs didn’t share a common language. Wen Yi could only hear Xiao Bai barking, with no idea what it was saying.  

His sadness and fear came from the worry that he might never transform back into his jellyfish form. In Wen Yi’s mind, he was supposed to be a beautiful jellyfish with many delicate tentacles, not this strange human shape.  

Maybe it was because of the clothes he was wearing. If he tore them off, perhaps he could change back! Instinctively, Wen Yi reached to rip his clothes again, but Tan Xiao stopped him just in time. “Don’t tear them. If you keep this up, we won’t have enough clothes left in the house. I only bought five or six sets of pajamas.”  

He had stocked up on more practical supplies, and while he had bought plenty of clothes, sleepwear was indeed in short supply. Besides, tearing them up like this was just wasteful. And this was the living room on the first floor, not a locked bedroom—there wasn’t much privacy. What if someone saw?  

Even though it was nighttime and no one else would come in, what if someone forced their way in later? What if there was a thief? In any case, he absolutely couldn’t let Wen Yi develop the bad habit of tearing off his clothes anytime, anywhere—not under his watch.  

Having gone through several rounds of the game, Tan Xiao’s attack and strength stats had improved significantly. Unless restricted by the game’s rules, he could easily uproot a willow tree or even lift a small car barehanded.  

With little effort, he pulled Wen Yi out of the fish tank, then scooped him up in a bridal carry. “If you really like water that much, you can sleep in the bathtub upstairs. But first, you need to change out of these wet clothes.”  

Jellyfish needed water and might not be able to stay out of it for long—Tan Xiao understood that. But right now, Wen Yi was in human form, not his jellyfish shape. Since the other man lacked common sense, Tan Xiao would have to teach him everything, bit by bit.  

As Tan Xiao carried him, Wen Yi’s body suspended in the air, his hands naturally rested against the man’s smooth, firm, and warm arms. The pleasant scent of a human filled his nostrils.

Wen Yi suddenly stopped worrying about whether he would ever be able to change back from a human to a jellyfish. The redness at the corners of his eyes spread across his cheeks, turning his face and ears a bright, rosy hue—like a perfectly ripe strawberry jelly, red, soft, and irresistibly sweet.  

Being a jellyfish had its perks, but being human seemed to have its advantages too. Tan Xiao’s arms were steady, but as they climbed the stairs, Wen Yi instinctively pressed closer to the man’s chest, his hands naturally shifting from resting on Tan Xiao’s arms to wrapping around his neck.  

No one had taught him this—it seemed jellyfish were just born knowing how to do it.  

Feeling the intimacy and dependence in Wen Yi’s movements, Tan Xiao’s lips curled upward unconsciously. He carried Wen Yi all the way to the master bedroom on the second floor—the only room in the house with a bathtub.  

The tub had been thoroughly scrubbed inside and out by Tan Xiao, leaving it spotless, practically free of even a speck of dust.  

Tan Xiao gently set Wen Yi down in the bathtub and patiently guided him on how to remove his clothes properly. “You can’t just rip them off. You have to take them off slowly, like this.”  

He filled the tub with cool, clear water, keeping in mind that jellyfish preferred lower temperatures. Unlike a human’s preference for warm baths, he made sure the water was comfortably cool for Wen Yi.  

The transparent water left nothing hidden once Wen Yi settled in. Though Tan Xiao was only trying to help, his cheeks gradually flushed pink.  

He briefly considered adding some foaming bath salts but quickly dismissed the idea, worried they might harm Wen Yi. After all, humans didn’t absorb bath salts through their skin, but Wen Yi was, at his core, still a jellyfish.  

And unlike the Parasite from the previous round—whose thick-skinned, liquid form could devour anything—jellyfish were different.  

The crystal-clear appearance of an immortal jellyfish gave the illusion of fragility, as if it would shatter at the slightest mishandling. It felt like if Tan Xiao wasn’t careful enough, this delicate, beautiful creature might wither away in an instant. Of course, he would soon realize that this fragility was entirely an illusion—this particular jellyfish was just putting on an act.  

This time, Wen Yi wore nothing, but even after soaking for a while, he still didn’t transform back as he’d hoped. If he really wanted to change, perhaps he needed to climb up to the ceiling again and let the electricity shock him like before.  

But deep down, Wen Yi didn’t want to. If he stayed a jellyfish, Tan Xiao would just leave him in the tank. Even if he grew bigger, Tan Xiao would never hold or hug him. No matter how beautiful he was in jellyfish form, humans only cuddled fluffy little creatures like cats, dogs, or rabbits—not a jellyfish.  

For now, he didn’t want to change back. Yet, instinctively seeking favor, the beautiful jellyfish grabbed Tan Xiao’s sleeve and pouted pitifully.  

“I don’t think I can turn back… What should I do?”

As he spoke, glistening teardrops rolled from his ruby-like eyes. His tears were full and round, each one like a perfect crystal, falling silently in large drops—a true embodiment of “pear blossoms bathed in rain.¹“

Wen Yi wasn’t necessarily that sad, but the sight of his tears had an overwhelming impact on Tan Xiao. Those large, heavy teardrops, like morning dew sliding off the tip of a lotus leaf, crashed heavily onto Tan Xiao’s heart.

Without thinking, Tan Xiao used his sleeve to wipe Wen Yi’s tears. “There, there, don’t cry.”

But the more Tan Xiao comforted him, the harder Wen Yi cried, as if a floodgate had opened. Tears poured out in waves, instantly soaking Tan Xiao’s already short sleeves.

The damp fabric clung to his skin, sticky and uncomfortable. Tan Xiao spent what felt like forever softly consoling Wen Yi, only to find that while Wen Yi’s tears showed no sign of stopping, his own throat was growing hoarse.

At first, he had acted purely out of concern, his brain not functioning properly, driven solely by instinct. But soon, Tan Xiao realized: the more he coaxed, the more Wen Yi cried. There was no real sorrow in those eyes—he just wanted to hear Tan Xiao comfort him.

Suddenly falling silent, Tan Xiao paused for a few seconds. Sure enough, Wen Yi’s tears stopped as abruptly as a turned-off faucet.

But when Tan Xiao stayed quiet, Wen Yi tested the waters by letting out a few more sobs.

Tan Xiao felt both exasperated and amused. Who said Wen Yi was stupid? This jellyfish was plenty clever—he just lacked common sense.

Seeing that Tan Xiao wasn’t comforting him and was even smiling, Wen Yi burst into tears again, this time with a genuinely pitiful and aggrieved expression. He wasn’t just crying—he was wailing.

Just then, a kiss landed on the corner of his lips, silencing Wen Yi’s noisy sobs. The jellyfish’s tears stopped instantly. His ruby-like eyes widened, pupils dilating like a cat’s in dim light—round and large, utterly adorable.

Tan Xiao had used peach-flavored mouthwash earlier that evening, and a faint hint of white peach and mint still lingered in his mouth. Wen Yi’s tongue flicked out, tasting the sweetness of human saliva. It wasn’t unpleasant at all.

Though he had no prior experience with kissing, he instinctively enjoyed this intimate exchange. Just as Tan Xiao began to pull away, slender, translucent tentacles emerged from Wen Yi’s waist, coiling around Tan Xiao’s and yanking him into the water-filled bathtub.

The tub wasn’t particularly large—just right for one, but far too cramped for two. The sudden addition of another body displaced the water, sending it splashing onto the bathroom tiles, though neither of them cared about such trivialities.

Wen Yi’s hands pressed against the back of Tan Xiao’s head as he instinctively deepened the kiss.

By the time they parted, Tan Xiao’s face was flushed from lack of oxygen, his tongue faintly numb. Wiping the moisture from his lips, he realized how late it was. He 

couldn’t indulge Wen Yi’s antics any longer.

“Alright, I need to rest.”

That kiss had left him agitated, but the night was deep, and Tan Xiao had no intention of letting things escalate. He planned to rely on his formidable self-control to calm down.

But as he stood, Wen Yi grabbed his hand. “No, you don’t want to rest.”

Tan Xiao shook his head. “I want to rest” After all this, he truly felt exhausted.

Yet the jellyfish stared at him with absolute certainty, his innocent face uttering anything-but-innocent words:

“No, you don’t. You want to mate with me.”

Notes

1. A Chinese idiom used to describe a beautiful woman crying. Also used to describe a woman’s beautiful face ↩︎