Heart of the Ocean (10): Very good to feed

In the end, Tan Xiao still didn’t stay. After nearly choking to death on his own saliva, he resisted temptation and gently refused Wen Yi with his overly strong self-control.  

“It’s the middle of the night, and your mind isn’t clear. You might regret any decisions you make now. Let’s talk tomorrow.” Outside, it was still pitch black. The darkness lent everything a dreamlike, surreal quality.  

Rather than saying he didn’t want Wen Yi to regret it, it was more accurate to say he didn’t want to regret it himself. The jellyfish’s body was drenched in water—just squeezing it lightly felt like it could drip at any moment. He wasn’t sure if doing that kind of thing would have any effect on Wen Yi.  

Considering the difference in water quality, Tan Xiao eventually went downstairs and spent half an hour hauling buckets of seawater from the fish tank into the bathtub.  

“Just make do like this for tonight. If you feel uncomfortable at all, don’t tough it out—tell me right away.”  

After the exhausting labor of moving water for so long, Tan Xiao was completely drained. He took a cold shower in the master bathroom, and the restless fire inside him finally cooled down.  

Perhaps because he had already found Wen Yi in the instance, a weight lifted from Tan Xiao’s heart. Even though only three days had passed in the instance, the pressure in his mind had eased significantly.  

In his heart, neither the side missions nor the main mission mattered much—but losing his wife? Absolutely unacceptable.  

For the first time since arriving at the seaside town, Tan Xiao slept soundly through the night. When he woke up, he opened his eyes to find a familiar, beautiful face beside his pillow. The jellyfish that should have been in the water tank before bed had somehow crawled to his bedside while he slept.  

Maybe because his current form was that of a free-floating jellyfish, Wen Yi’s sleeping posture wasn’t the most graceful—sprawled out on the bed like a little kitten, his exposed belly rising and falling slightly with each breath. Under the sunlight, Wen Yi didn’t look as inhuman as he had the night before. No longer like a crystal doll, but more like a porcelain one.  

Now, at a glance, Wen Yi could almost pass for an exceptionally pale human—except when sunlight fell on him, his skin still took on a semi-transparent, luminous quality.  

He was still wearing the pajamas Tan Xiao had given him, but they were dry to the touch. Tan Xiao reached out and confirmed it—that was why he hadn’t been woken up by any dampness.  

Tan Xiao quietly admired the breathtaking beauty before him for a while, then gently tugged the thin blanket over Wen Yi, trying to cover his exposed belly.  

After all, Wen Yi’s sleeping habits were truly terrible—his pajamas were a mess, the shirt riding up to reveal a stretch of soft, pale belly and an especially slender waist.  

Tan Xiao’s movements were light, but Wen Yi was sensitive. The moment the soft blanket touched his stomach, his eyes fluttered open.

When he saw it was Tan Xiao, the aggression in his eyes instantly melted into a gentle, watery softness. The little lighthouse jellyfish spread his arms, demanding an enthusiastic hug from Tan Xiao.  

Tan Xiao obliged, lifting him from the bed and carefully checking Wen Yi’s condition. “How are you feeling? When did you come into the room? Are you hungry?”  

He fired off questions one after another, and Wen Yi answered them in order: “I’m okay. I came in after you fell asleep. And yeah, I’m a little hungry.”  

Right in front of Tan Xiao, Wen Yi slapped his own belly with some force, producing a sound like sloshing water. “Listen—it’s empty. Just water inside.”  

Tan Xiao couldn’t help but laugh. “No need to slap it, I believe you.”  

Wen Yi, pleased, planted a loud, smacking kiss on Tan Xiao’s cheek. “You’re the best.”  

Praising Tan Xiao was practically instinctual for Wen Yi.  

The two spent a relatively tender morning in the master bedroom’s bathroom. Though Wen Yi’s mouth was naturally clean, Tan Xiao insisted on making his partner brush his teeth like a human now that he was in human form.  

He pulled out a pink toothbrush cup from under the cabinet—red and blue were the classic couple pairing, so of course his own cup was blue.  

Matching toothbrush cups, matching toothbrushes. It didn’t matter that Wen Yi was a little clumsy—he even got an electric toothbrush, and Tan Xiao squeezed the toothpaste onto it for him.  

He didn’t have to brush Wen Yi’s teeth for him, though. The jellyfish lacked common sense, but he wasn’t disabled—after being shown once, he picked it up quickly.  

“So good.” Tan Xiao was equally generous with his praise, his tone utterly sincere—even more exaggerated than a kindergarten teacher coaxing a child.  

But then again, Wen Yi’s grasp of human common sense was probably worse than some bright kindergarteners. Tan Xiao felt his partner deserved every bit of that praise.  

When they went downstairs, Tan Xiao spotted Xiao Bai waiting at the foot of the stairs. He first settled Wen Yi into a seat before greeting the little dog. “Xiao Bai, did you wait long today? Let me get you a can.”  

Xiao Bai barked twice. “I already ate.”  

Unlike that silly Wen Yi, as the smartest dog in the world, Xiao Bai would never be foolish enough to starve himself.  

He had long since trotted into the kitchen, fetched his own bowl, and even opened a can for himself.  

Tan Xiao had woken up early the past two days, but today, when he still hadn’t come down at the usual time, Xiao Bai—awakened by his biological clock at 6:00—immediately went upstairs to check on him.  

Hearing steady breathing through the door, he confirmed Tan Xiao wasn’t in any health crisis and didn’t barge in to disturb him. Instead, he took care of his own breakfast. 

Though his little dog body wasn’t as nimble as his robot form, tearing open dog food bags, fetching things from cabinets, and opening cans were still well within Xiao Bai’s capabilities.

Just as Xiao Bai had expected, Tan Xiao didn’t come downstairs until 9:35—over three hours later than usual. When these two were glued together, they often slept in, and last night, there had still been movement upstairs until nearly 2 a.m.  

The fact that Tan Xiao managed to come down at this hour was already a testament to his strong self-control.  

Xiao Bai said smugly, “I ate a can, drank water, and even washed my bowl.”  

He was clearly throwing shade at a certain dim-witted jellyfish named Wen Yi—who had arms and legs yet still demanded to be carried by Tan Xiao. With a face that looked sharp but a brain dumber than a puppy’s, he was practically useless.  

Wen Yi completely ignored Xiao Bai’s disdainful gaze. If he could understand the dog’s words, he’d probably just flip it around with pride: “I have a boyfriend who spoils me—what do you have? Oh right, you’re just a single dog. Literally.”  

Well… Xiao Bai was single. And an actual dog. So it wouldn’t even count as an insult.  

Since Wen Yi had already polished off almost all the fresh seafood in the house, Tan Xiao pulled out some frozen goods and steamed a batch of mantou, baozi, huajuan, and fresh meat shaomai—these were for himself.  

For Wen Yi, he prepared crab shaomai and crystal shrimp dumplings. “Try these. If you don’t like the wrappers, just eat the filling.”  

After all, Tan Xiao had a big appetite—he could finish whatever Wen Yi left behind.  

Wen Yi nodded, then shook his head, and finally used his chopsticks to snatch something from Tan Xiao’s plate. “I’ll eat yours.”  

He then placed the food from his own plate onto Tan Xiao’s. “You eat mine too.”  

As a deep-sea jellyfish, Wen Yi’s favorite foods were, naturally, what jellyfish typically ate. He could handle raw food, but he could also eat human cuisine like Tan Xiao—just not as enthusiastically.  

And compared to starchy grains, he much preferred meat—shrimp, fish, shellfish, and other seafood.  

Despite his delicate appearance, he was surprisingly low-maintenance when it came to food.  

After two days at home, Tan Xiao confirmed that Wen Yi probably wouldn’t be turning back anytime soon. He had tried everything—freshwater, salted water, the special water recommended by the aquarium shop owner, even the stored clean seawater.  

None of it worked. Though his form remained unchanged, it didn’t stop Wen Yi from swimming freely in water.  

He seemed to have become amphibious, equally at home in water or on land—though, as a jellyfish, he still needed constant hydration.  

Tan Xiao didn’t dare let Wen Yi near the seawater near the small coastal town, not even for experiments.  

After the oil spill, the black water had spread rapidly. Though the local authorities had worked around the clock to contain it, five or six days later, while the ocean looked blue again, a closer inspection revealed an eerie rainbow sheen lingering on the surface near the shore.  

Most of the dead fish had been cleared away, but new ones kept washing up. The town’s incineration plant had been running nonstop—burying them all would’ve required digging endless pits.  

Left under the sun, the fish would quickly rot, filling the air with a nauseating stench.  

This water was clearly toxic—absolutely unfit for Wen Yi. Tan Xiao would never risk his lover’s safety for some reckless experiment.  

On the surface, Tan Xiao and Wen Yi’s lives remained unaffected, but the island’s residents faced worsening conditions by the day.  

Resources were limited. The islanders lived off the sea, and most supplies had to be imported.  

With the sudden influx of players, the town’s already strained supplies were stretched even thinner.  

Unlike the players—who knew they’d leave in a month—the locals had no such certainty. Shortages led to multiple violent clashes, including two particularly destructive riots.  

Things took a darker turn when a supply ship bound for the island was attacked, failing to arrive on schedule.  

Footage from the vessel showed the assailant to be a terrifying, monstrous sea creature.