Chà Chà Novel

The early summer sun had grown fierce enough to make exposed skin uncomfortable. Wen Sheng was no exception. He might have legs now, but he was still a merman at heart. Sunlight itself did not frighten him; being dried out by it did.

In his luxurious chambers stood a beautifully built bath filled with pale blue seawater. Its coolness seeped through Wen Sheng’s body, driving away the summer heat and leaving him pleasantly drowsy.

As sleepiness took hold, his limbs went slack. He slid along the side of the bath and sank to the bottom. He felt no discomfort. If anything, it was even more soothing down there. Tiny bubbles rose with his steady breaths and vanished at the surface. His cream-colored undergarment drifted up a little in the water, exposing a small stretch of firm, pale stomach.

Balala felt that if it had a physical body, it would have had a nosebleed. It went offline at once, reminding itself: Don’t look at what you shouldn’t. Don’t look!

Help! Lord Shiqing had the allure of a fox spirit. Who could possibly resist him?

The appeal in his every movement had little to do with his beautiful face. It came from something deeper: an effortless sensuality he himself seemed unaware of.

Wen Sheng sensed Balala go offline. He opened his eyes beneath the water. There was no telling what lay behind his gray-blue gaze. It fixed on nothing, as though he were lost in thought, or perhaps looking at nothing at all.

After some time, Wen Sheng rose from the bottom of the bath. Water dripped from his hair and ran down his cheeks. Once he emerged, his cream-colored undergarment clung to him, outlining a slender but healthy figure.

He walked barefoot across the floor, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him. His silhouette swayed gently as he went.

By the time he had dried his hair, dressed, and opened the chamber door, only the last of the sunlight remained. The red evening clouds painted a vivid stroke across the sky, echoing Wen Sheng’s red clothes. The attendant outside looked up and, for a moment, almost believed Wen Sheng was a spirit formed from the sunset itself.

So beautiful…

The attendant stared, spellbound. Wen Sheng had walked a fair distance past him before he came to his senses and hurried after him.

It was the seventh day.

Yun Yin had now tasted all the pain and torment of seven days beneath the blazing sun. Wen Sheng had not visited the Sea God’s temple during that time. Yun Yin had been made to kneel outside under guard, and Wen Sheng had no wish to waste his time mocking him. He would rather sleep or visit Lan Tang and look at the face that was identical to Lu Yan’s.

“Lord Wen Sheng.”

The guard at the entrance bowed respectfully. At the sound, the king rose from his seat. Wen Sheng took his time settling into the chair prepared beside him, then cast Yun Yin a careless glance.

Good grief. He had nearly failed to recognize him. Was that soot-covered figure really Yun Yin?

The original Wen Sheng had not tanned like this. Yun Yin, though…

Then again, it made sense. Wen Sheng’s body belonged to a merman. Apart from drawing out its moisture, sunlight had little other effect on it.

Yun Yin was different. He was an ordinary human. After spending every day under the sun, it was hardly surprising that he looked like this. What a pity about his face, which had once been passable thanks to his fair skin. Now he looked as though someone had dug him out of a coal heap…

“Hahahaha! That’s hilarious! How did he end up like that? I didn’t see this coming, hahaha…”

Balala’s wild laughter rang through Wen Sheng’s mind. His brow twitched, and he muted it with practiced ease.

It really was rather funny. Yun Yin was not quite coal-black; his skin had turned a sallow, dark tan. Whatever modest good looks he had once possessed had disappeared.

Ugly.

Wen Sheng liked beautiful things. A lovely person or object could put him in a good mood. Yun Yin had irritated him to begin with, and now he did not want to look at him at all. He turned instead to the king’s expectant face. When the king began to tremble slightly with nerves, Wen Sheng gave a small nod.

The king was overcome with excitement. He sprang to his feet and ordered an attendant, “Take him away and have someone treat him.”

The attendants quickly dragged Yun Yin, who was barely conscious, out of the Sea God’s temple.

Kneeling for hours every day would take its toll on anyone’s knees. Wen Sheng had nodded just now, which meant the evil spirit attached to the little mute was gone. Yun Yin might still have some use.

The king turned eagerly to Wen Sheng, his body stiff with nerves. “Lord Wen Sheng, should we…?”

They should go to Lan Tang, of course. Wen Sheng rose from his chair. His face remained gentle and composed, giving nothing away, though he walked a little faster than he had on the way here. The king followed closely behind him. No one would have guessed he ruled the royal household. To him, Wen Sheng was now almost a god. Then again, wasn’t the Sea God’s messenger divine in his own right?

Lan Tang’s chambers were close to the Sea God’s temple. By the time Wen Sheng reached the door, his heart was racing. He did not know what he hoped to find—or what he feared he might find. A strange reluctance seized him, like the feeling of returning to a long-lost home. He could not bring himself to open the door.

The king was desperate to go in, but he did not dare hurry him. They stood there for several minutes before Wen Sheng finally sighed and raised his hand. Before his fingers touched the door, it burst open from within.

There stood the cool, world-weary face Wen Sheng had loved looking at for decades. A pair of narrow, dark eyes met his directly, and his heart missed several beats.

“Lan Tang!!! My son!!! You’re finally awake!!!”

The king’s eyes widened. Disbelief gave way almost at once to tears. He had never expected to see his eldest son, the child of whom he had always been proudest, standing healthy before him again.

Lan Tang glanced briefly at Wen Sheng. At the king’s cry, he turned his attention away. He bowed in a proper courtly salute, his long black hair sweeping down beside him like a waterfall. His voice was deep and husky.

“Father.”

Tears streamed down the king’s wrinkled face. He hurried to help Lan Tang straighten and nodded again and again.

“This is wonderful. Truly wonderful.”

He held Lan Tang’s hand, too overwhelmed to find any other words. His hands would not stop trembling.

“The Sea God has blessed us. The Sea God has blessed us. Lord Wen Sheng, thank the Sea God—and thank you—for saving my son.”

The Sea God was the faith of the entire kingdom. He had saved the king’s son and given the royal family new hope.

Wen Sheng said nothing. He stepped quietly aside and gazed at Lan Tang’s face. There was tenderness in his expression, but it was not the compassion he had shown before. His luminous eyes held something harder to name, as though he were looking at the most precious treasure in the world.

Lu Yan had come. He had really come. Lu Yan had not listened to him…

Wen Sheng should have known. Lu Yan had always been stubborn. Such an idiot…

Suddenly weary, Wen Sheng left without a word. Lu Yan was here, which meant the previous world had ended. Wen Sheng wanted to see what had become of Lu Yan there.

Just before Wen Sheng disappeared around the corner, Lan Tang’s gaze shifted after him. He watched Wen Sheng leave, a faint light passing through his eyes.

“Your mother fell ill with grief while you were unconscious. She can barely get out of bed now. Let me take you to see her.”

The king had not dared tell the queen that Lan Tang might have a chance to wake. Over the years, they had suffered too many disappointments, and her health had grown too frail to bear another. But now their son was awake. He was real, healthy, and standing right before him.

Lan Tang’s long hair hung loose around his shoulders. His expression was calm and gentle as he nodded.

“Yes. Let’s go see Mother.”

Wen Sheng’s chambers stood beside Lan Tang’s, separated by a single wall. Once inside, he undressed until only his undergarment remained, then stepped barefoot into the bath filled with seawater. The cool, salty water wrapped around him. No merman could resist the sea, and its embrace soon calmed him.

Reason told him not to look at how the previous world had ended. His feelings would not let him heed that warning completely.

Wen Sheng stared into space for a while, then slowly closed his eyes. An image appeared in his mind: Qi Yan holding his newborn little brother, his expression gentle as water. Wen Sheng watched him brush his lips against the baby’s round cheek, then lightly touch the tiny tail that a newborn werewolf could not yet put away.

Werewolves grew quickly. Qi Yan also gently transferred some of his energy into the little wolf’s body every day. Within three months, the pup could take a few unsteady running steps on his own.

In less than a year, he was the size of a seven- or eight-year-old child. He could laugh, call Qi Yan “big brother,” and throw himself into his arms to be spoiled. By then, though, the shine had faded from Qi Yan’s beautiful silver-white hair. It looked like the gray hair of an old man nearing the end of his life, dry as withered grass. His face was still handsome, but he grew thinner by the day.

“Big brother, will you sleep with me tonight? I want to sleep beside you~”

Little Qi Yun kept pleading as he cuddled in Qi Yan’s arms. He did not want to sleep alone. He might have grown fast, but he was only a year old, and being alone at night frightened him.

Qi Yan set Qi Yun on the floor and stroked his silver-white hair.

“Not tonight. I’m going to see your brother-in-law.”

Qi Yun already knew about his brother-in-law. He had seen him: a beautiful person who seemed to be asleep inside a large, lovely case in his brother’s chambers. Qi Yan rarely slept beside Qi Yun. He said he had to stay with his husband, who might be afraid on his own.

“All right, then~”

Qi Yan gave Qi Yun an approving look.

Night fell. As usual, Qi Yan finished his duties and returned to his chambers. But after washing, he did not enter the ice coffin. Instead, he changed into beautiful clothes and dressed Wen Shilan in a matching set, a little smaller than his own.

By the time he was done, Qi Yan was breathing harder, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He washed his face once more. Only when everything looked perfect did he climb into the ice coffin. As he had on so many nights before, he kissed Wen Shilan’s pale, cold lips with lingering tenderness.

A smile touched Qi Yan’s mouth, lighter and more at peace than any smile he had worn before. Tonight he did not hold Wen Shilan all night. He lay flat beside him and slowly closed his eyes, whispering gently in his heart:

Wen Shilan, I’m coming to be with you.

In Wen Sheng’s mind, the sound of Qi Yan’s breathing grew fainter until it vanished. In the bath, Wen Sheng’s own breaths became ragged, edged with a muffled sob. The ache in his chest nearly suffocated him. Why did it hurt so much? He was a merman in this life, so why couldn’t he breathe underwater?

Unable to bear it, Wen Sheng burst to the surface, sending seawater splashing over the sides of the bath. He gripped the edge and gulped down air. His eyes were red. When he closed them, he felt something warm run down his face amid the cool seawater.

If it were not for the potion, he thought, there might be a few pearls for him to pick up now.

Qi Yan had never attempted to take his own life. He had obeyed Wen Shilan. But his soul had died the moment Wen Shilan passed away in his arms. For the years that followed, an empty shell had gone on living. Qi Yan had held on as long as he could, and at last that life ended beside Wen Shilan.

Wen Sheng stepped out of the bath, his bare feet meeting the floor. Seawater dripped from his body, leaving wet patches behind.

When I get back, we should remarry, he thought.

A merman’s hair and skin dried remarkably fast. After a quick wipe, Wen Sheng was nearly dry. He changed into nightclothes and sat at the table with some wine. He did not usually enjoy drinking, but for some reason he wanted a little tonight.

Yan Shiqing could hold his liquor fairly well. Wen Sheng’s body could not. Merfolk had a different constitution, and after only a few cups, his head was spinning and heat had spread through him.

Wen Sheng regretted drinking. If he had known this body had such a low tolerance, he would have gone to sleep instead. He was about to call Balala online to clear the alcohol from his system when a measured knock sounded at the chamber door.

His reactions were sluggish. He stared for two seconds, and before he could answer, someone pushed the door open from outside. The face that had been circling through his thoughts—Lu Yan’s face—appeared before him.

Wen Sheng rested his chin on his hand. Wine had flushed both his cheeks, and his luminous eyes held a faint sheen of moisture. At the sight of the visitor, his body reacted before his mind did. He smiled, his voice soft with unguarded delight.

“A-Yan~”

Lan Tang paused, then swiftly shut the door, nearly hitting the attendant outside.

His father had told him that this beautiful young man had awakened him, and that he was the Sea God’s honored messenger. Lan Tang had come to thank him. He had not expected to find him like this.

In the lamplight, Wen Sheng seemed to glow softly. When those misty, peach-blossom eyes turned toward him, filled with tenderness and affection, Lan Tang felt his heart miss a beat.