——Do you want to go outside and see the world?

At that time, Yu Bai actually didn’t understand what this sentence meant at all.

But as the human outside the tank came closer, the little mermaid keenly sensed a wave of mental energy.

That mental energy was extremely violent, as if it could go berserk at any moment.

Such ferocious power made Yu Bai’s own spiritual energy stir uncontrollably.

This feeling became more and more intense as the other approached.

Sensing danger, the little mermaid instinctively raised his ear fins.

Then he froze.

Because he saw the other’s spiritual sea.

Dark waves surged wildly, raising storms with a savage and violent force that ravaged everything, as if trying to tear the entire space apart.

This human standing in front of the tank must be enduring some kind of torment that Yu Bai couldn’t even imagine.

Yet when Yu Bai looked into his eyes again, he saw nothing but calm in those pitch-black pupils—no trace of pain.

As if the man couldn’t feel the collapse of his own mental sea—or perhaps he had simply gotten used to the agony.

That made Yu Bai realize: this lab coat was different from the others.

The other lab coats would rush to drink a bottled liquid the moment their spiritual seas showed even the slightest disturbance.

Thinking carefully, this seemed to be the first time he had seen this human in this place.

And the way this person looked at him was different, too.

Those black eyes didn’t have the usual fanaticism, nor any discernible purpose—just quietly observing him.

Yu Bai blinked lightly.

Then tentatively moved a little closer.

The man outside lowered his gaze to look at him for a few seconds, then turned around and left… only to return before Yu Bai could react, pushing a wheeled chair back to the tank and pressing the drainage button.

The water level began to drop. Yu Bai watched as the man pulled a small rectangular card from his pocket and lightly swiped it on the device outside the tank.

With his movement, the thick metal chain with barbs fixed to Yu Bai’s lower back let out a soft *beep* and then released its grip.

Before Yu Bai could even react, the glass in front of him slowly began to descend—until nothing was left between them.

Then the man stepped forward, bent down, and gently picked him up.

Warmth.

A warmth completely different from the icy cold at the bottom of the tank.

Through the fabric, Yu Bai could clearly feel the man’s body heat.

He also sensed the carefulness in the man’s movements.

Unlike the other lab coats who moved him around carelessly, this man supported his tail with one hand and his shoulder with the other, using just the right amount of force, carefully avoiding the barbs at his waist and doing his best not to strain his spine.

Looking down, the little mermaid’s sea-blue eyes focused on the hand gripping his shoulder.

Long fingers, slightly callused fingertips, and a warm palm.

Just like that, Yu Bai was gently placed in the wheelchair.

“Don’t lean back…” The man specifically gestured at the space between Yu Bai and the backrest as he spoke. “…It’ll hurt.”

Even though he didn’t understand the words, Yu Bai got the meaning and nodded.

Seeing him sit obediently without moving, the man pushed the chair and walked him out.

…

That was two years, seven months, and seven days after being brought to the lab—the first time Yu Bai went outside.

The sun hadn’t fully sunk below the horizon yet.

Warm golden light shone on him without reserve. After a few seconds, he slowly raised his hand and gently grasped at the air.

In the eyes of the man behind him, the little mermaid’s slender figure was bathed in light, the golden sunset casting color onto his originally pale skin, though it couldn’t completely mask the lingering sickliness in his stunning features.

He looked like a gorgeous rose on the verge of wilting—enough to stir anyone’s heart with pity.

It was late spring now.

Outside the lab, many flowers were blooming—names Yu Bai couldn’t even begin to guess.

A soft floral scent drifted through the air with the wind. Two butterflies fluttered past, entangled in the air. One of them seemed to notice the wheelchair stopped there, and with sparkling wings dancing, it gently landed on Yu Bai’s silver-white tail.

It was the first time Yu Bai had seen such a little thing.

Its flitting movements looked light and free.

A rare spark of curiosity rose in him, and Yu Bai couldn’t help but reach out. But perhaps he startled the small creature—its white wings fluttered in alarm, and then it wobbled away into the distance.

…So beautiful.

The little mermaid straightened his waist, biting his lip as he thought.

In his attempt to touch the butterfly, he’d forgotten the thing embedded in his back again. Maybe he’d leaned forward too much—now his entire waist ached so badly that cold sweat broke out all over. His thin shoulders trembled slightly.

“…”

Clutching the sides of the wheelchair, Yu Bai’s knuckles turned white.

He lowered his head, long lashes veiling the sea-blue pain in his eyes, as he struggled to steady his breathing.

Noticing his attempt to reach for the butterfly, the man fell silent for a moment, then took out a sticky note from his pocket.

When paper is folded, it makes a soft rustling sound.

The long fingers moved nimbly and delicately, and before long, that thin piece of paper had turned into a white paper crane.

Gritting his teeth and enduring until the pain gradually faded, when Yu Bai opened his eyes, he saw the man half-kneeling in front of him, one hand extended palm up, and resting quietly in that palm was a paper crane.

“Although it’s not a butterfly…”

As he spoke, the paper crane’s wings flapped up and down with a gentle tug from the man.

It didn’t fly very perfectly and looked rather clumsy, but somehow, it made Yu Bai feel like the pain in his body had suddenly lessened.

After a brief pause, the man said softly:

“…Here.”

“…What’s wrong?”

The exact same voice pulled Yu Bai back from his memory.

The little mermaid came back to himself, only then realizing he’d been standing dazed in place for quite a while.

Fu Linyuan was right in front of him, only a few steps away.

He must’ve noticed Yu Bai hadn’t caught up, so he’d stopped and turned to ask what was wrong.

The two now stood one behind the other in the corridor. Fu Linyuan happened to be standing by a window, and bright sunlight spilled in beside him.

Perhaps due to the lighting, the usual indifference and coldness in his features seemed softened, and those eyes, just like the first time they met, were calm and still—like a boundless deep sky.

Yu Bai tilted his head slightly, staring at Fu Linyuan for a few seconds.

Then, before the other could speak again, he walked over, raised the paper crane tied with a little bell in his hand, and held it out in front of him.

The little mermaid gave a gentle tug, and the crane’s wings fluttered up and down.

A clear, crisp jingle rang out, followed by a pleasant voice:

“Gi—”

“…Gift,” Yu Bai said seriously.

“…For you.”

When they returned to the Marshal’s residence, Huo Si  was still the one waiting at the door.

Though this robot didn’t look the same as the previous one, Fu Linyuan still called him ‘Huo Si’, and Yu Bai realized—Huo Si must’ve just changed into new clothes.

He had seen similar operations back in the lab. In the beginning, when he resisted strongly, any robot that tried to approach him would get its arms dismantled by him. But by the next day, they always came back with new mechanical limbs.

But this time, the little mermaid truly had no intention of tearing Huo Si apart. On the contrary, seeing Huo Si return with a new body made him feel a bit guilty.

So when Fu Linyuan told Huo Si to take him to the new study room, Yu Bai obediently followed behind.

He still understood the word ‘study’.

The study was right next to his bedroom.

The layout inside was simple: a table by the window, two chairs, and a bookshelf.

There weren’t many books—just a few placed in the middle two shelves.

From the spines alone, one could identify some children’s storybooks and a few official textbooks.

Perhaps noticing the little mermaid’s curiosity about his new body, Huo Si gestured for him to sit down, then took the initiative to spin in place. A smiling face lit up on his screen:

“Mister has inserted my memory card into a new companion-learning robot. This model is waterproof, so you won’t have to worry about accidents like last time!”

Yu Bai: “…Ah?”

Truthfully, he hadn’t understood a word.

Realizing this, Huo Si thought for a moment, then picked up the cup on the table and poured a bit of water into his own palm.

“……!”

Last time Huo Si touched water, he had completely shut down. Seeing this, Yu Bai panicked and instinctively tried to snatch the cup away.

But before he could reach it, he noticed—this time, Huo Si didn’t seem to fear water.

Oh—

Fu Linyuan had given him a waterproof body!

The vivid expression of sudden realization on the little mermaid’s face was easy to read. Huo Si’s screen showed another smiling face. Then, rolling on his brand-new little wheels, he pulled two books from the shelf.

“All right, Mister has arranged a lot of learning tasks for you, so let’s start today’s lessons\~”

…

Because there had been a water-related accident before, Fu Linyuan originally wanted to personally supervise Huo Si during lessons.

But with the upcoming patrol mission, there were simply too many matters that required his direct attention.

So he had no choice but to buy… a child monitoring device, which he installed in the study room.

Thus, the Imperial Marshal now sat in his study, with the military conference room on the large screen to his left, and the study room on a smaller screen to his right.

But clearly, the others in the virtual conference room had no idea their superior was multitasking.

“…The currently deployable supplies are all ready for transport. The plan is in the report I sent you. Do you think there’s anything that still needs adjustment?”

The logistics officer pushed his glasses nervously, glancing at the young marshal whose image was projected at the head of the table.

There was no expression on the latter’s face—making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

The room fell silent for a few seconds, and the logistics officer grew even more uneasy.

The temperamental Marshal had always had very strict standards for patrol plans. Was this silence… a sign he was about to get scolded?

Nervously adjusting his glasses again, the officer asked, “…Marshal?”

Fu Linyuan finally looked up, his tone cool:

“…No, approve the transport. Next.”

The logistics officer sat down, still trembling, and now it was the Mecha Maintenance Department head’s turn.

Because the Marshal had personally urged their department before, the head was quite nervous at today’s meeting. He carefully explained the maintenance progress of the First Legion’s mechs. At the end, he made sure to emphasize that—thanks to the Marshal’s guidance—they had now accelerated their work pace and would definitely finish the repairs on time.

As for the Marshal’s response—still no visible reaction.

“…Marshal?”

Fu Linyuan glanced at the report showing they’d finally improved their efficiency. His tone remained cold:

“…Good. Not bad.”

Person in charge: “……”

I’m doomed. Am I about to get fired?

But I’ve never heard of the Marshal praising anyone during a meeting!

Wuwuwu, where’s Adjutant Duke?! Come save me!

Unable to figure out the Marshal’s thoughts, the person in charge swallowed nervously. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly noticed that the Marshal’s gaze had been subtly lingering on something by his hand.

That thing was white, not very big, and parts of it seemed to reflect light.

Maybe he was just too nervous, but his brain short-circuited, and he asked, “Marshal, is that a new type of weapon?”

Hmm… But the R\&D department hadn’t sent them any new blueprints?

“……Hm?”

Hearing that, the Marshal followed his gaze and looked over.

“It’s not…”

As he spoke, the always-cold tone finally carried a trace of fluctuation.

“A paper crane. Never seen one?”