The Scars of a Mermaid’s Tail

Upper Heaven—

In Upper Heaven stood a grand white hall, markedly different from the other palaces. Its towering pavilions exuded both elegance and majesty, and within, every furnishing was a treasure of exorbitant luxury.

Surrounding the grand hall were numerous begonia trees, rumored to have sprung from exceptionally rare seeds. Nourished by the essence of immortal qi, their blossoms never withered throughout the year.

Beyond the verdant foliage, clear springs flowed like streams, encircling the palace and forming several ponds of varying sizes. Some teemed with small koi, vibrant in every imaginable color, an enchanting sight, each fish plump and robust.

The arched bridges connecting these pools were crafted with meticulous artistry, imbued with a poetic charm.

The pond water was crystal clear and refreshing. Within the courtyard, a cradle with soft cushions, a chessboard, and an intricately carved wooden table were arranged. Upon the table, immortal fruits and pastries were perpetually replenished.

Every flower, every blade of grass, every brick, every tile, every piece of wood, every leaf—all spoke volumes of the builder’s dedication and the meticulous care in its upkeep.

Yunjie sat by one of the larger ponds, not in the opulent robes she had worn at the recent birthday banquet, but in a simple, thin white blouse adorned with auspicious gold dragon embroidery.

She appeared as fragile as porcelain, as if a mere gust of wind could shatter her. Her skin, pale as snow, and her slender frame suggested an extreme frailty, the thin blouse hanging loosely upon her, failing to conceal some lingering red marks.

The courtyard was deserted. She manifested her large tail, idly swishing it through the water, playfully teasing the koi in the pond.

Her sleeves became damp from the pond water. With one hand propped on the ground, she held a smoky-blue wine bottle in the other, gazing at the plump little fish, occasionally raising the flask to take a couple of sips.

As the wind stirred, begonia petals drifted down into the pond.

Footsteps sounded behind her. Yunjie did not turn, yet she knew precisely who it was.

“What brings you out to play in the water today?” Weili asked, a smile gracing his lips.

Yunjie offered no reply. Aside from the whisper of the wind, only the gentle gurgling of water as her tail stirred the pond, playfully coaxing the fish, could be heard.

Receiving no response, Weili’s smile remained. He walked to the edge of the pond, crouched down, and gently took the wine bottle from Yunjie’s hand.

“The Medical Immortal said you shouldn’t drink,” Weili’s voice was exceedingly gentle, devoid of any trace of complaint, imbued instead with affection and tenderness.

Weili was a dragon, and the small fish in Yunjie’s pond always feared him. The moment he crouched down, they all scattered, darting beneath the rocks to hide.

Yunjie lost her enthusiasm. Gazing at the lotus pond, now returned to tranquility, she suddenly answered Weili’s first question, “It has been a long… long time… since I played in the water…”

Her tolerance for alcohol was poor, and her health was delicate. For a long time, Weili had regulated her drinking. Today, someone had given Yunjie wine, allowing her to drink again, and no one had even reported it. It seemed the attendants in this hall were due for a change.

Just as Weili was about to ask if she was drunk, Yunjie looked at her tail submerged in the pond and murmured, “My tail… it’s really so ugly.”

Yunjie’s tail was a beautiful blend of blue and purple. Yet, submerged in the pond, it bore numerous scars from severe wounds that had healed, leaving patches where scales refused to grow. Several areas were bald and stark, making it appear conspicuously, even… grotesquely ugly.

For a mermaid, their tail was as cherished as a mortal’s face, a bird’s wings, or an immortal’s cultivation.

Mermaids could not live without water, but Yunjie’s tail had always been a deep sorrow for her. Every time she saw it, she would grieve for a long while. She was incredibly resilient, rarely manifesting her fish tail as she had today, for each instance inevitably led to a cold war with Weili.

Weili felt as if a thorn had pierced his heart. He gently comforted the despondent Yunjie, placing a hand on her slender shoulder and softly coaxing, “I’ve always had people searching for medicine. It will heal, I promise.”

Yunjie looked at her tail in the pond, and with profound sadness, spoke again, “If I hadn’t met you, my tail wouldn’t be like this…”

“Yunjie!!!” Weili’s tone, calling her name, sharpened noticeably.

The majesty of an Emperor, the wrath of a True Dragon. Yet, Yunjie remained unafraid. She calmly raised her eyes to meet Weili’s gaze, causing him to falter slightly, his voice softening instantly. “I’m not scolding you, but you know I don’t like to hear such words.”

Weili continued, “I know you’ve suffered greatly for me, but all that is in the past now. I will always treat you well, and your tail will heal. Be good, don’t be sad.”

Yunjie showed no reaction to his words. Weili bent down, intending to lift her, and said, “It’s time to change your attendants. I explicitly instructed them before that you mustn’t be given alcohol.”

Yunjie pushed away his outstretched hand, her voice chilling as she questioned, “What does this have to do with the attendants? And what does it have to do with drinking?”

Weili disliked Yunjie’s current attitude towards him, and he frowned slightly. “Yunjie, you’re drunk.” He stubbornly reached out again, lifting Yunjie from the water. Her dripping wet tail soaked his elegant robes, but Weili paid it no mind. He carried her back to the hall, intending to fetch clean clothes himself to help Yunjie change.

Yunjie sat on the edge of the bed, her large, scarred tail resting on the floor.

Yunjie watched Weili’s retreating back and spoke softly, “You said the day before yesterday that you would let our daughter return to stay with me. Two days have passed since then.”

The Dragon clan seemed to be under a curse; for tens of thousands of years, their numbers had been sparse, and offspring were rare.

Yet, several centuries ago, Yunjie had given birth to a small golden dragon for Weili.

Unlike her own kind, the little dragon’s gestation was arduous from the moment Yunjie conceived. She endured immense hardship, and the exceptionally fragile little dragon only managed to be born after Yunjie poured all her energy and effort into it.

However, after only a very brief time together, Weili had sent the child away.

He claimed Yunjie’s health was poor and she required quiet recuperation, and that caring for the little dragon was too troublesome. Moreover, as the daughter of Emperor Weili, she ought to cultivate more diligently than any other immortal.

The little dragon, who had just learned to call out “Mother,” was sent away by Weili. Her meetings with Yunjie were infrequent, returning only once every three months, and then only staying for two hours, sharing a meal, and exchanging a few words.

A knot of resentment had always tightened in Yunjie’s heart. When the little dragon was first sent away, she and Weili entered their most strained period of coexistence. Later, due to… well, Yunjie eventually relented, but consequently, their intimacy became exceedingly rare.

The day before yesterday, Weili had insisted on staying. To make Yunjie compliant, he told her that once their child emerged from cultivation in two days, he would bring her back to live with Yunjie for a period. Evidently, Weili had broken his promise.

She remained silent. Yunjie, having likely suffered too many disappointments, felt only a fleeting pang of regret before returning to her usual cool, taciturn demeanor.

Seeing her darkened expression, Weili coaxed, “Some matters simply caused a delay. I won’t lie to you this time.”

Yunjie was naturally disappointed, but she had no desire to argue with him about it.

Weili still had unfinished business. After staying with Yunjie for a while, he prepared to leave.

Yunjie gazed at the begonia petals fluttering outside the window and called out to Weili, who was about to depart, “My coral pearl necklace from the drawer is missing. Have you seen it?”

Weili paused, then turned back. Yunjie looked at him intently and stated, “That coral pearl necklace was something I brought from the South Sea. You should know how important it is to me.”