Volume One, Chapter Twelve: It's Annoying, But Who Am I to Complain When I'm the Senior?

Among all the fish who had come ashore, Lu Qingyu was not the oldest, yet he held the highest seniority among them. Thus, he often bore the burden of a youthful face while worrying over this and that. He solved all sorts of troubles not only for the younger fish in the tribe but even for those older than himself.

He had to maintain his shy, reserved persona, yet often found himself doing things that went against that very image, a duality that left him feeling quite conflicted.

But, having been among the first to come ashore, many responsibilities fell inevitably on his shoulders—responsibilities he could neither shirk nor avoid.

Sometimes, overwhelmed by the endless concerns, he wished to abandon it all, yet whenever he saw others in trouble, worry would inevitably creep back in. It was truly a life of endless toil.

“Hmm, the ‘human’ is here,” Xie Lin remarked, raising an eyebrow as he watched the approaching figure. “Well, well, Blue Ring, long time no see.”

The little pink octopus had some skill—turns out this person was his grandnephew. But wasn’t this person supposed to avoid helping outsiders?

“Long time no see, Xian Ling,” came the greeting.

“Cough, cough, please call me Doctor Xie, thank you,” he replied.

“Hey—” Lu Qingyu, lurking unseen in the shadows, voiced his objection. “I say, you fish—why are you allowed to call others by their species but forbid them from calling you by yours?”

Xie Lin coughed twice, offering no rebuttal. He indeed disliked being called Xian Ling because it made him feel weak.

And compared to Lu Qingyu, he really was weaker.

Without needing much explanation, Lu Qingyu immediately understood the situation and who truly needed help upon arriving at the scene.

He had long declared he wouldn’t meddle in matters involving other fish tribes, but given their acquaintance, making an exception for Xie Lin was not impossible. Besides, Xie Lin knew the rules—what could be said and what should remain unspoken.

Before familiar fish, Lu Qingyu dropped the pretense—everyone knew his character. He got straight to the point: “How do you want me to help?”

Xie Lin coughed again before answering, “Let me stay at your place for a while, until this storm passes.”

Thinking of Lu Qingyu’s rare rule-breaking, Xie Lin added, “I won’t shortchange you on the payment.”

Thinking of the child next door, Lu Qingyu immediately refused, “No.”

Xie Lin was surprised. “Why not? Didn’t it work before?”

Looking at Lu Qingyu’s expressionless face, Xie Lin had no choice but to make other plans. “Then do you know any other safe place I could hide? I don’t care what kind of environment it is—I’m not picky.”

“…”

“…”

The pink octopus nearby looked around at the two silent men and raised a tentacle. “I do know a place, but I don’t know if your current body can handle it.”

Lu Qingyu said, “Lead the way.”

Without waiting for Xie Lin’s reaction, he hoisted him up and signaled the pink octopus to set off.

…

On the way, Xie Lin tugged at Lu Qingyu’s jacket. “What’s going on at your place now? Why can’t I stay there?”

Seeing no reply, Xie Lin turned to the pink octopus resting on Lu Qingyu’s other shoulder. “Hey, Little Pink, want to hear a story?”

The pink octopus replied, “My name’s Lu Ning. Weren’t you badly injured? How can you still talk?”

“Don’t you want to hear about what heroic deeds your great-uncle has done since coming ashore, and the loves and hates he’s had with various people?”

Lu Ning frowned. “Is it really okay to gossip about someone right in front of them?”

Xie Lin blinked. “Don’t worry, we’re behind his back.”

Being carried on someone's shoulder, with one’s head hanging behind, and with a hand caught in another’s grasp—both literally behind Lu Qingyu—the pink octopus had no choice but to accept that logic.

Knowing Lu Qingyu wouldn’t actually do anything to him, Xie Lin boldly chatted about Lu Qingyu’s gossip right by his ear.

“The deep blue sea holds many known and unknown species, but no matter what form they take to come ashore or what disguises they wear, none can hide from your great-uncle’s sight.

“But everyone who knows him understands that he won’t interfere unless the problem comes directly to him. Still, some fish dislike him and relentlessly pursue him day after day. Do you know why?”

“Great-uncle, is it because he’s charming?”

“What kind of ears do you have? Where did you get that from? This pursuit means hunting, not courting.”

Glancing again at the pink octopus on Lu Qingyu’s shoulder, it was understandable that one so small might confuse the two.

Escaping the grasp, the little octopus peeked around Lu Qingyu’s neck and asked, “Then why?”

“Because we are not of the same tribe, their hearts are different. They fear that if I see through their disguises, their existence will be exposed.”

Lu Qingyu, who usually avoided explanations, said this calmly.

Not everyone who falls into the sea gets a chance to come ashore again, nor are all those who climb from the depths willing to reveal their true nature to others.

That was why this time he hadn’t unveiled their true identities before the little jellyfish.

They were still strangers. He feared that if she learned he knew her secret, she might, like those other outsiders who feared his insight and sought to destroy him, become suspicious, afraid, and try to eliminate him.

At the same time, he worried she wouldn’t want anyone to know her secret, and upon realizing he could easily see through disguises, she might distance herself from him, surviving alone and risking harm.

Lu Qingyu thought about this deeply and finally decided to keep silent, choosing to accompany the little jellyfish in human form until she could stand on her own, at which point he could confidently let go.

If Lin Yuyu knew this, she would surely mock Lu Qingyu for overthinking—she desperately needed a partner like him to lift her up.

“Then, Great-Uncle, would you?”

“I wouldn’t. I’m not that free.”

The pink octopus nodded thoughtfully. “Then they’re worrying for nothing.”

Xie Lin couldn’t help but interject, “Haha, Little Octopus, you’ve learned well from human culture—you even know the phrase ‘worrying for nothing.’”

But soon, his laughter died away.

He stared wide-eyed at the half-basement before him. “Little Pink, this is the place you mentioned? Where I’m supposed to stay?”

He didn’t even mention the half-basement itself, but this tiny space, not even as large as a standard bed, half submerged in seawater—half flooded! Could this be considered livable?

“Yeah, do you like it?”

Lu Ning looked at Xie Lin with a proud expression, as if saying, “Trust me, it’s very safe here. No humans can disturb you, and if you heal here, you’ll recover quickly.”

Xie Lin’s mouth twitched. “Thanks a lot.”

Given his current human body, staying here would indeed mean a quick end to his need for healing—not in the sense of full recovery, but the kind of recovery where the person is gone and no treatment is needed.

He turned to Lu Qingyu, eyes pleading. “Really can’t stay at your place?”

Lu Qingyu’s face remained cold. “No.”

Lu Ning tilted his head in confusion. “What’s wrong with this place? Don’t worry, I’ve stayed here before—it’s comfortable.”

Xie Lin didn’t know how to explain to a newly ashore aquatic creature that he was no longer aquatic and couldn’t live in water. He could only look at Lu Qingyu with a mix of grievance and hope, silently begging for a solution.

But…

Lu Qingyu turned away without a word.

“Pfft—”

“Lu Qingyu, you’re laughing? I heard that! I’m in this state, and you won’t help me but laugh at me! That’s too much!”

Another day spent wanting to sever ties with this heartless fish Lu Qingyu.

“How about a cave? If you can, I know a hidden spot…”