Lansi had originally planned to stay a little longer in Sunset Bay since he was back. It had been so long since he had seen Quirrell. Since Quirrell called him his teacher, he felt he should teach the sea monster more. He hadn't taught Quirrell enough before. Hmm, now he should be able to teach Quirrell some other things.
Lansi even imagined a scene of "filial piety between teacher and student" between him and Quirrell, with the merman and the sea monster enjoying their lessons immensely.
However, as the saying goes, familiarity breeds contempt.
After spending two or three days with Quirrell in Sunset Bay, Lansi realized that his previous affection and guilt toward Quirrell had completely vanished amidst the noise the creature created.
He had forgotten that Quirrell loved to play the drums.
After getting the music player, Quirrell had developed a new hobby: listening to heavy metal music while drumming. What was even more frustrating was that despite Quirrell's incredibly diligent practice, his achievements only proved one thing—no talent, absolutely no talent. Quirrell had studied for so long, but all he could do was make noise.
Lansi even suspected that if he randomly dragged any random fish over and taught it for a few days, it would play better than Quirrell. This caused Lansi immense pain.
In the past, Quirrell only played the drums for a fixed period of time every day. Lansi just had to endure it and get through that short period. Now, Quirrell was drumming non-stop, 24/7.
The noise made Lansi want to tear off all eighteen of Quirrell's arms.
"Tearing them off is useless," Winsor said, patting Lansi's head with pity. "Sea monsters have very strong regenerative abilities."
"I can't stay here any longer." Lansi stared blankly into the distance, the background sound being the constant, horrific clanging of metal. "If I stay any longer, I'm afraid I'll have a heart attack."
"Don't talk nonsense," Winsor said, startled. "How about we go to a deserted island in the sea?"
Lansi looked dejected. He would rather be far away from here than hide on an isolated island nearby. The noise was terrifying; just looking at this area of the sea made him feel dizzy and nauseous.
Seeing that Lansi still couldn't muster his energy, Winsor tilted his head and suggested, "How about we go on a trip and leave this place?"
In an instant, Lansi's eyes lit up. This suggestion reminded Lansi of the very beginning, of the Queen Mary. One of the reasons he had boarded the Queen Mary in the first place was because of its advertising slogan at the time: *Travel the world on a luxury cruise ship.*
If it weren't for what happened later, Lansi felt that his experience on the Queen Mary would have been the most precious and unforgettable part of his life. However, the unexpected events on the ship had shattered that beautiful wish, which always left Lansi feeling very regretful.
But now that he had become a merman, he could travel the world entirely on his own.
This excited Lansi, and he began to talk rapidly to Winsor. "Okay, okay! Shall we go to the North Pole or the South Pole first?"
So many years had passed, and most of the land was submerged by seawater. The tourist attractions in Lansi's memory had long been flooded, but it didn't matter—there were still the North and South Poles.
Winsor fell silent at the question. He began to ponder. "Would you like to see the polar bears or the penguins first?"
Most penguins lived in the Southern Hemisphere, which meant going south.
"Penguins, please!" Lansi enthusiastically suggested. "Then let's swim to the Arctic!"
Winsor's suggestion immediately revived Lansi's spirits. He no longer minded Quirrell making noise, and when teaching Quirrell today, he patiently taught the sea monster many skills and assigned a massive amount of homework.
Perhaps out of a student's natural wariness of teachers assigning too much homework, Quirrell asked:
"Teacher, are you leaving again?"
Lansi readily admitted it:
"I've taught you everything I know; now all you need to do is practice! Good luck! Winsor and I are going to travel the world!"
Each sentence, marked with an exclamation mark, fully demonstrated Lansi's excitement.
Quirrell's mood immediately plummeted:
"I've only just finished learning all of this..."
The hermit crab, meanwhile, offered words of comfort:
"It's okay, I'll train with you. Besides, they've been together for so long, isn't it normal for them to go on a honeymoon together?"
Lansi: [...]
'Hermit crab, don't you think you know a little too much human vocabulary?'
Quirrell and the hermit crab spent a long time wallowing in their dramatic shared misery, but in the end, Quirrell came to terms with it. Since Lansi wanted to leave, there was nothing it could do. It could only wish Lansi and Winsor happiness.
After eliminating Quirrell as an obstacle, Lansi was overjoyed at the thought of going to the Arctic and Antarctic, so much so that he couldn't sleep at night. As soon as it was light, Lansi shook Winsor awake.
"Didn't we say we were going on a trip? Let's go!"
Winsor yawned and looked at Lansi with sleepy eyes.
Lansi began searching around their little underwater nest, asking questions as he went. "Will it be extremely cold if I go to the North and South Poles? Do I need to bring clothes? If I do, should I bring a down jacket? But down jackets get very heavy after getting wet..."
His mouth made a series of rapid sounds, almost like he was pouring out a bowl of beans.
When Winsor fully regained consciousness, he stepped forward to stop Lansi from trying to stuff things into a nonexistent suitcase. He patted Lansi's head and said helplessly:
"Have you ever seen fish carrying suitcases when they migrate?"
Lansi belatedly realized that he was now a merman.
Finally, under Winsor's guidance, Lansi only brought a small number of things, just enough to carry in a waterproof belt pouch. Of course, this was something Lansi insisted on no matter what. Human thinking made Lansi feel that he absolutely must bring something with him when going on a long trip, otherwise he always felt like something vital was missing.
"What are you wearing around your neck?" Lansi noticed that the necklace around Winsor's neck had changed from an oddly shaped pearl to a conch shell. The entrance to this conch shell was blocked tightly by something, which meant there was something sealed inside.
"Weren't you worried about needing a down jacket to go to the North and South Poles?" Winsor gave Lansi a teasing smile. "This is a 'down jacket'."
Lansi: ???
This immediately piqued Lansi's curiosity. He pestered Winsor relentlessly, even refusing to touch or look at anything else along the way, wanting only to find out from Winsor what was really inside the conch shell.
Winsor was quite pleased that Lansi's attention was entirely focused on him, so he deliberately kept quiet and let Lansi try to snatch the conch shell from his neck the whole way—if Lansi could even manage to grab it.
"You'll know when you get to Antarctica," Winsor said. He liked to keep people in suspense, and he especially liked to see Lansi angrily pestering him.
Lansi snorted and ignored him.
After swimming out of Sunset Bay, the two merfolk continued to swim south. Most of the time was spent traveling, and a small portion of the time was spent with Lansi surrounding Winsor, trying to snatch the conch shell to take a look.
Sometimes, when things got really heated, Lansi would get serious with Winsor, treating him like prey and chasing him around to hone his hunting skills. Winsor didn't care if Lansi got serious; sometimes he even deliberately provoked Lansi, which would drive Lansi into a rage, using every trick in the book to snatch the shell.
Winsor found it amusing. He was genuinely curious to know what surprises Lansi's unique nature could bring him. Although sometimes, when Lansi got carried away, he forgot to retract his sharp teeth and lunged. A sudden bite could be quite painful.
'The venom can also be quite unpleasant,' Winsor thought to himself, touching the faint teeth marks on his face.
Winsor surfaced and glanced at Lansi, who was sitting on the rocks sulking. He stuck out a finger and poked Lansi's back.
"Are you angry?"
Lansi was sunbathing with his back turned firmly toward Winsor. Feeling the light but firm pressure on his back, he sneered and brushed Winsor away with his tail.
"Move away, you're blocking my sun."
Perhaps because he was once human, and humans have an innate love for the sun, Lansi still enjoyed sunbathing whenever he had the chance, even after becoming a merman. He had even practiced a set of skills in the sea; he liked to find the warm currents in the ocean and just float, letting them carry him along lazily.
This left Winsor somewhat amused and exasperated. All he could do was pull Lansi back whenever he got too carried away.
"You can't just rely on ocean currents."
However, watching Lansi bask in the light made Winsor suddenly understand why Lansi had always wanted to escape the deep coral trench in the first place.
The deep sea was dark and freezing, while Lansi fundamentally yearned for light and warmth.
Lansi's reason for wanting to get out of the coral trench wasn't because he wanted to get away from the tentacles; he just instinctively hated the place and wanted to see the sun.
At that moment, Winsor suddenly felt extremely grateful that he hadn't insisted on keeping Lansi inside the coral trench. If Lansi stayed in the dark and cold deep sea forever, he would go crazy sooner or later. It was like a flower—if you didn't let it see the sun, it might be fine at first, but one day, that little flower would wither and die.
"Okay, I'll confess," Winsor said, essentially begging for mercy. "The conch shell contains a kind of oil."
"Oil?" Lansi finally became curious. He turned over and looked at Winsor. "What kind of oil? What's it used for?"
"This is my secret." Winsor dared not tell Lansi where the oil came from—in a sense, he called it oil only so Lansi wouldn't keep asking—and he cleverly changed the subject. "Aren't we going to the North and South Poles? I was worried you'd get cold, so I prepared this kind of oil."
According to Winsor, this oil was to be applied to the body, and once applied, it was like wearing a layer of clothing for warmth. After all, merman skin looked like human skin, and Winsor didn't know if Lansi could withstand the temperatures of the North and South Poles.
"That's amazing?" Lansi was surprised. He reached out and poked the conch shell in front of him, suggesting with great interest, "Could you put some on my hand? I'd like to try it."
Winsor took the conch shell down, played with it in his hand, and gave Lansi a meaningful look. He then suggested, "How about I teach you how to use it directly?"
"Should we apply it all over our bodies here? Wouldn't that be too wasteful?" Lansi had no idea that Winsor was up to no good. Seeing that Winsor was willing to let him use it, he was very happy and cooperated by getting off the reef and swimming to Winsor's side.
Winsor opened the conch shell, scooped out a beige, paste-like substance, and beckoned to Lansi. "Come over."
...
Winsor reached out and touched the white skin before him, spreading the ointment from his hand. The sensation on his palm felt like rubbing his hands against a porcelain vase with a delicate, white, lustrous glaze.
The skin was pure white. After pressing it for a while, the area under his palm grew a little warm. It seemed that if he left his palm there for a little longer, a blush would appear on it. Winsor looked very serious; even though it was just a routine maintenance session, he seemed to be doing something incredibly important.
Lansi didn't understand why Winsor was being so serious. He twisted his waist, but in the end, he didn't run away. He watched Winsor's hand move, his face flushing slightly, and finally, he could only look into the distance and use his singing to distract himself.
As Lansi's intermittent singing continued, Winsor continued to stroke the bottle back and forth, his fingertips teasingly caressing the seams, lingering lightly at the "bottle's" opening, and touching the soft interior.
Lansi twitched his ear fins, his singing growing uneven. He thought it was a bit hot, but it was probably just his imagination. He looked up at the sun and found that the sunlight was a bit too strong.
"This is how you apply it to form a protective layer," Winsor explained, glancing at Lansi with a slight smile. His hand did not leave the smooth-textured skin.
Winsor continued the skincare routine, applying the protective product from his palm to the porcelain like skin, making it shine even brighter. It looked like a freshly peeled lychee—translucent, tender, and delicious. Only a tiny bit of pink was faintly visible at the bottle's opening, making one want to see what was inside.
It was said that there was a kind of bottle that did not need to be filled or changed; as long as flowers were placed in the bottle, clear water would automatically seep out. Winsor thought the bottle in front of him was a treasure. After finishing applying the lotion to the bottle, he stretched out his finger and traced along the rim, wanting to moisten the inside as well. He asked:
"Does it feel okay inside?"
Lansi hesitated for a while before finally nodding. White porcelain did require proper maintenance to look its best.