Fu Linyuan caught Yu Bai, who was flushed out by the water, right on time.

The Marshal of the Empire, who had witnessed countless grand occasions, stood there in silence for three full seconds: “…”

Then he looked down at the person in his arms.

Drenched silver hair was still dripping with water. Yu Bai, who had been flung into Fu Linyuan’s embrace, was dazed for a moment before he covered the tip of his nose and looked up.

The impact had been a little painful. He drew in a soft breath, and a layer of mist gathered in his sea-blue eyes, with a faint flush of red blooming at the corners.

The little mermaid looked pure and innocent, as if he had absolutely nothing to do with the mess all around them.

The two were very close. Fu Linyuan could even clearly see the tiny droplets of water clinging to his curled lashes.

Then, that round and translucent droplet fell silently as the lashes trembled.

It slid past the slender neck, straight collarbone.

And further down, so pale it was almost dazzling.

Realizing what he was seeing, Fu Linyuan froze for a moment, preparing to quietly avert his gaze.

Then he noticed something.

Below that delicate waist, silver scales layered neatly in rhythmic rows—where legs should have been was now a long and beautiful fish tail.

It looked like fine silver, or priceless diamonds, reflecting dazzling light even in the dim room.

Yu Bai hadn’t noticed the other’s brief stupor.

He was rubbing his nose that was still sore from the collision, using the other hand to hold onto Fu Linyuan’s sleeve for balance. Then he shook his head slightly to fling off the excess water.

His tail hadn’t had a chance to change back into legs before the water in the room vanished.

Luckily, Fu Linyuan had caught him.

Rubbing his nose, Yu Bai patted Fu Linyuan’s arm, then turned around to point toward the bathroom.

Following the direction he pointed, Fu Linyuan saw the bathtub still gushing water—and Huo Si lying motionless to the side.

Fu Linyuan: “…”

He carried the little mermaid back into the bathroom, lifted him up, and set him down gently on a nearby platform to sit. Then he walked over and manually shut off the water.

Fu Linyuan: “…What happened here?”

Lying on the floor, Huo Si naturally couldn’t answer that.

The only other person who knew the truth, Yu Bai, upon hearing the question, began to gesture.

—”I don’t know what happened either.”

He pointed at himself and then shook his head.

—”Huo Si came in.”

He pointed at Huo Si, then mimicked a small figure walking across his palm with two fingers.

—”Then he started saying strange things.”

The little mermaid tried to mimic Huo Si’s monotone voice from memory.

“Cer… cer-tif… inflate… sys… sys… sys-pain.”

—”Then suddenly there was a lot of water.”

He stretched his arms wide, drawing a large circle in the air, then added sound effects.

“Pooof—”

Water kept pouring in, rising until it overflowed the edge of the bathtub.

It kept coming and coming, until he could swim around in the bathroom.

Then Fu Linyuan opened the door, and all the water rushed out.

Thinking of that, Yu Bai felt a little regretful.

He still wanted to play a bit longer.

With a combination of gestures and sound effects, the little mermaid more or less helped Fu Linyuan grasp the general situation.

The latter was silent for a few seconds, then shifted his gaze to the little mermaid’s tail.

Noticing the look, Yu Bai tilted his head and gave a playful flick of his tail fin.

With his head slightly swaying and a look that seemed to ask, “Aren’t I pretty?”

Under the white lighting, that fish tail shimmered with iridescent brilliance.

His silver hair draped loosely over his shoulders, making his skin appear as white as snow. His delicate and striking face, along with his perfectly proportioned figure, made him look just like an elf who had wandered into the mortal world.

It was a beauty that was both rare and breathtaking.

Yu Bai didn’t know what Fu Linyuan was thinking. Seeing the other only staring silently at his tail, he swished his elegant tail fin again.

Then activated his spiritual power.

In the next second, the beautiful fish scales receded in an orderly fashion beneath smooth skin, revealing two long, slender, and fair legs.

He wiggled his toes like he was presenting a treasure, tilting his head up, his face filled with barely hidden pride.

Fu Linyuan, however, didn’t notice his smugness.

When the tail turned into legs just now, there had been no covering at all.

So the man averted his gaze once more.

Grabbing a half-wet bathrobe from nearby, his voice was a bit stiff: “…Put some clothes on.”

The little mermaid blinked, jumped down from the sink, took the bathrobe, and clumsily began to put it on.

Fu Linyuan: “…”

He stepped forward and efficiently wrapped the little mermaid in the bathrobe.

“Achoo—”

The damp fabric against his skin was a bit cold, and Yu Bai shivered and sneezed softly.

Then the little mermaid was carried back to his room.

When Duke’s video call was connected, what he saw was their top commander with sleeves rolled up, bent over, mopping water off the floor.

Duke: …?

He looked carefully at the background behind Fu Linyuan, confirming it was indeed the marshal’s study at the mansion, and there were clear traces of water on the floor.

Duke’s mouth twitched, not daring to gossip directly about whether the pipes had burst at the marshal’s house: “…Boss, where’s Huo Si?”

“Crashed,” Fu Linyuan replied flatly as he wrung out the cloth in his hands. “Did the cabinet contact you about Fortes Base?”

Duke gave a quick “Oh,” rubbed his nose, and didn’t dare to prod the tiger any further. He got to the point: “Yes, they did.”

Fu Linyuan wrung the cloth again: “Has the notice been sent out?”

“It has.” Duke glanced at the terminal next to him. “Currently, only twenty-three soldiers from the First Legion are unable to participate in the patrol due to injuries. The military supplies will also be expedited and depart from the naval base within two days.”

“Good.” Fu Linyuan paused, then instructed, “Have the vanguard unit prepare to depart a day early.”

Duke’s expression sharpened: “Boss, do you suspect… that someone from the lab is interfering in this incident?”

Fu Linyuan spoke concisely: “…The Zerg migrate on a large scale every winter to reproduce. This pattern doesn’t advance without reason.”

He didn’t elaborate further, but Duke understood what he meant.

The documented migration of the Zerg had continued for over a thousand years. Almost as soon as humans founded the Aon Empire, scientists had already discovered that the Zerg had migratory habits.

This was the first abnormal activity of the Zerg since records began.

And just a few months ago, the legion had uncovered shocking news from the black market—the widely circulated contraband Medusa seemed to contain an extract from the Zerg.

That was a major discovery.

The Zerg were among the oldest species in deep space—vicious by nature, highly reproductive, and requiring minimal conditions to survive. The purpose of their existence seemed to be to occupy as many planets as possible.

They hadn’t shown intelligence capable of communicating with advanced life, but they possessed a natural sensitivity to jump points, frequently ambushing unprepared fleets at these locations.

Their social structure resembled that of bees in the human world: all worker bugs were controlled by a single queen.

In short, they were a simple but troublesome species.

First came the spike in Medusa’s appearance, followed by the sudden irregular activity from the Zerg…

It was easy to associate these anomalies with some external trigger.

Thinking of this, Duke nodded seriously: “Understood. I’ll have the vanguard unit stand by at Fortes Base a day in advance.”

Fu Linyuan thought for a moment and added, “While they’re stationed there, have them begin reviewing the base’s entry and exit records for the past two years.”

Duke took note: “Yes, sir.”

“Pay close attention to every report sent by the recon units. Do not miss a single detail.”

“Yes, sir.”

After giving a few more instructions related to the patrol mission, Fu Linyuan paused and added, “…Also, add a single bed to my rest quarters.”

“Yes…” Duke typed “single bed” into his memo, then suddenly paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Huh? Did your current bed break?”

In Duke’s impression, his commanding officer only ever requested replacements for office supplies when they were broken.

Since when did the bed in the rest room break?

He barely even used that bed!

Water streamed from the wrung-out cloth into the bucket with a soft splash.

Fu Linyuan’s expression didn’t change: “…This patrol, Yu Bai is coming along.”

Duke responded with a vague “Oh,” and added Yu Bai’s name next to the “single bed” note—still not quite registering. “…Wait? Yu Bai? Who’s that? Do I need to report this?”

Fu Linyuan didn’t answer, and continued: “…Also, all food supplies for this patrol will be doubled. All extra expenses are to be charged to my account.”

Duke diligently recorded everything, then scratched his head belatedly, puzzled: “…Will another adjutant be joining you?”

Fu Linyuan: “…”

That night, the Imperial Marshal finally exhausted the last of his already limited patience and directly ended the communication.

…

Ever since Fu Linyuan joined the military, he rarely spent long periods at home.

Routine cleaning was minimal, and with the Marshal’s unexpectedly sentimental nature, the villa had only ever been equipped with one house robot—Huo Si.

Now that Huo Si had short-circuited from water damage, it was already very late by the time Fu Linyuan finished mopping up the mess.

It was only then that he seemed to remember—there was still someone in the guest room…

A merman.

He removed Huo Si’s memory storage card and set it aside, contacted the manufacturer for maintenance service, then returned the cleaning tools to their place.

Only after all this did he arrive at the guest room door.

Taking a silent breath, Fu Linyuan knocked.

—No response.

After waiting a few seconds, Fu Linyuan gently pushed the door open.

The lights were still on, but Yu Bai wasn’t on the bed.

He was on the carpet next to it.

To be exact, the little merman, still wrapped in a bathrobe, was sitting barefoot on the rug with his legs curled up, fast asleep against the bedside.

He seemed to be holding something in his hand.

Fu Linyuan stepped closer and saw that he was clutching a pen tightly.

And beneath the hand holding the pen, there was a piece of paper.

Only, the paper had been soaked and was now wrinkled. The person writing on it clearly hadn’t controlled the pressure well—there were several small holes poked into it.

Still, Fu Linyuan could make out the words that had been written repeatedly, though the final version was still crooked and uneven.

“对” and “不” (“duì” and “bù” — meaning “right” and “not”)

And at the very edge, a third character seemed unfinished—only a vague stroke suggesting the character “走” (zǒu — “to walk” or part of “sorry”).

“对不起.”

(Sorry.)

Clearly, the little merman had realized he’d caused some trouble, and not knowing what else to do, had somehow found paper and pen and had been trying to write out an apology in secret.

He’d even drawn on his face.

Fu Linyuan stared down at the paper for a few seconds, then turned and left the room.

After a while, he returned with a clean towel.

…Sleeping with wet hair would catch a cold.