The Undersea Adventures of the Little Jellyfish (JELLYFISH)
The celebration would last for several days.
The little jellyfish looked around here and there, curious about everything in the mermaid's domain.
By nightfall, most of the mermaids had retired to rest, including Shen Jixiao. The fish had expended too much mental energy during the day, completely draining himself, and now he was listless.
The mermaid's vision was average, and their dwellings were located in the deeper parts of the ocean where light was scarce, so they relied on luminous pearls—though not all of them were naturally formed. Some were artificially crafted that merely concentrated sunlight to appear brighter. At night, most of the pearls dimmed, leaving only a few essential ones glowing—those were the true night pearls.
They rose with the sun and rested at dusk, were omnivorous, long-lived, and lived peacefully, detached from worldly conflicts.
The night was incredibly quiet, with only a few patrolling mermaids on duty.
The little jellyfish was special—so small, yet unforgettable. Most of the patrolling guards remembered him. Perhaps Qingbo had given instructions, for Tang You swam all the way to the ancestral hall without hindrance.
"You've come."
"Yes." Tang You responded while looking at the green-scaled mermaid before him. "I'm here."
"I believe you've already sensed it."
"I have." The little jellyfish swam closer. "This is my handiwork. Though it feels ancient and unfamiliar, this magic was undoubtedly created by me."
"Ancient?" Qingbo didn't entirely agree. "It has only recorded our clan's history for the past two hundred years. It's a very young pearl."
Tang You rubbed his tentacles and pulled out his own pearl. "But now I've simplified the engraving process. Look, it only takes a few seconds to record memories. No need for such complex magic arrays or circuits."
"That only proves you're a genius."
Qingbo sighed. "Simplifying a spell is no easy feat."
"But I'm no genius. This is the only spell I know."
It wasn't until Tang You saw the pearl that he truly believed he had indeed crossed paths with the mermaids two hundred years ago. Otherwise, his magic wouldn't have appeared here—and what's more, it was tied to the mermaid's most important legacy. He couldn't shake the feeling that, long ago, the mermaids hadn't recorded their heritage this way.
Had he taught them the memory-engraving spell? Or… had he learned it from them?
Either way, he had nearly made the memory-engraving spell second nature.
Earlier, when he and Shen Jixiao were in the ancestral hall together, Qingbo had deliberately established a mental link only with him, conveying a few words.
And so, the little jellyfish came in the dead of night.
"This matter involves too much. It can't be left to others to handle." Qingbo sighed softly. "I think your arrival now must be fate's arrangement."
She channeled magic into the pearl.
Green patterns bloomed like lotuses, spiraling and climbing along the walls of the ancestral hall, as though the stone itself had begun to breathe and grow. They branched into verdant tendrils, each unfurling like coral polyps before bearing plump, rounded fruit.
Sīdíwǎ'ěr—meaning "azure coral".
"Every fruit represents a record of a mermaid, whether they are alive or dead, arriving or departing."
Mermaids are a long-lived species, and even more so, a deeply sentimental one. They are free-spirited, rarely bound by rigid rules.
The existence of a clan leader is necessary because someone must oversee the rituals, while the elders serve more like administrators, managing and recording everything that happens. "This place holds countless secrets."
That’s why Qingbo is so gentle, just like an ordinary mermaid—no mermaid fears her.
"Starting fifteen years ago, flaws appeared in the magic array. I worry that we may no longer be able to record anything in the future, yet I lack the ability to repair it myself."
"What about the royal city?" the little jellyfish asked. "Is this pearl inscription method used only by your clan?"
"Actually, the royal city faces the same issue, but they aren’t the least bit concerned."
"Huh?"
"They say that if they’re lucky, within a few decades, they’ll encounter a little jellyfish who will surely help fix it." Qingbo looked at the little jellyfish, her turquoise scales shimmering with the same hue as her magic, matching the brilliance of her eyes. "You’ll help, won’t you?"
"As payment..." She produced a small box crafted from a deceased giant clam, gently opening it to reveal pearls, gemstones, and scales as beautiful as jewels. "You may take your pick."
The little jellyfish bobbed over to her palm. "Alright, I get it!"
Uncharacteristically, he didn’t choose a single pearl. Instead, he pressed a tentacle against the precious box. "I want to know what has happened to the mermaids over the last two hundred years. Why hasn’t anyone taken over the role of clan leader?"
Qingbo paused slightly. "Very well."
"However, I’ve only lived for a hundred years. Many ancient events weren’t recorded in books—they were passed down orally. Would you like to hear them?"
"Of course!" The little jellyfish tapped his magic circuits. "I’d like to listen to your stories while I work on the repairs."
"Then I’d like to ask about... this route. I’ll probably swim through here."
Qingbo agreed readily. "That route is perfectly safe, but there are sirens living near the islands there—don’t go too close. If you’d like, I can send a few mermaids to escort you."
"No need to trouble you all. I prefer traveling alone."
...
The little jellyfish slipped away quietly and returned just before dawn. Having listened to countless stories spanning two hundred years, he was utterly satisfied.
He crept back into the cave, careful not to disturb the resting mermaid.
Heh, mermaids are creatures that need sleep, after all, while he only needs to space out for a bit every 24 hours to recharge.
A mermaid stirred.
The little jellyfish instantly retracted his tentacles, thinking his secret outing had been discovered.
But the mermaid seemed to be only dreaming.
Relieved, the little jellyfish relaxed and used his psychic energy to fashion a cozy nest in the corner to rest. After spacing out for a while, he noticed the mermaid had shifted uneasily several times.
Only then did he realize something was wrong.
"Mermaid, you’re burning up..."
Shen Jixiao, who usually felt cool to the touch, now had flushed cheeks, his temperature rising steadily.
He was sick.
Panicking, the little jellyfish hurried to fetch other mermaids.
"What’s wrong with him?" Tang You watched anxiously as several mermaids gathered around Shen Jixiao. "Can mermaids catch colds too?"
"It's not a cold." The mermaid who seemed to be a physician used healing magic, enveloping Shen Jixiao in a gentle glow. "He has no external injuries—it's a problem with his mental energy."
"What... what's wrong with his mental energy?"
Tang You then explained how Shen Jixiao had been living on land all his life and had only awakened his mental energy the day before.
"No wonder," the physician flicked her tail. "We are naturally adept with mental energy, which grows continuously from birth. But overly powerful mental energy can overwhelm a young body still in its egg, leading to collapse. That’s why we need protective forces to ensure the young can grow healthily until their hatching day, when the Awakening Ceremony is held to remove this mental, transparent shell."
"This way, mental energy and the body grow in sync, adapting to each other."
"Having left the sea since childhood, he must have never undergone the Awakening Ceremony." The physician tapped Shen Jixiao’s forehead, temporarily soothing the turbulent energy with her own mental power. "Now that the channels have suddenly opened, his body hasn’t yet adjusted to the long-suppressed mental energy."
Tang You: "Is he in danger?"
"Not with us watching over him."
"That’s a relief." Tang You exhaled. "Has his mental energy always been suppressed?"
"Theoretically, yes."
But Shen Jixiao wasn’t a mermaid completely devoid of mental energy—quite the opposite, in fact. His mental energy was quite strong, almost on par with a normal mermaid’s, though he didn’t know how to use it. Tang You pondered this.
He relayed the situation to the physician.
The physician paused. "This... while our mermaids have an 'egg' shielding our mental core from birth, every egg has small vents, allowing a trickle of mental energy to leak out."
"No one ever taught him this... He might have mistaken that trickle for his normal capacity."
Tang You recalled how Shen Jixiao had claimed his mental energy talent was abysmal and that he might never learn to project it outward in his lifetime, and froze. "In reality, his mental energy far exceeds what he believed, doesn’t it?"
The physician: "Yes."
"Poor child." The physician stroked Shen Jixiao’s forehead. "This should have been common knowledge, ingrained in his bloodline."
"..."
The little jellyfish also extended a tentacle, gently brushing the mermaid’s forehead.
"Given this situation, he may soon awaken his trait."
"Hmm?"
Every living being possesses mental energy, each with its own unique trait—like Grandma Clam’s mental energy forming a hardened shell, or the little jellyfish’s resonating with the primal sea.
"Not all beings awaken a concrete trait," the physician explained. "But our mermaids are special. Our strong mental foundation ensures every individual awakens one, like me—I was born with an affinity for healing magic."
Having a trait was a good thing, but for Shen Jixiao, it was akin to learning to swim one day and immediately being thrown into a hundred-meter sprint.
The little jellyfish feared he might push too hard and damage his core.
He wove a net of mental energy, smoothing over the mermaid’s furrowed brow as he and the physician waited.
...
Shen Jixiao had no idea what was happening. He had returned early to rest due to mental exhaustion, but the moment he closed his eyes, waves surged—he saw a tsunami that nearly drowned him.
Again.
He was used to it, so he didn’t pay much attention to this small nightmare.
He saw a familiar figure—this time, the person seemed very close to him. But when he reached out his hand...
—There was still nothing.
Shen Jixiao opened his eyes.
He was in a mermaid’s nest, beneath an unfamiliar ceiling and surrounded by unfamiliar mermaids—except for one, a blue-green one. Qingbo looked at him with concern. "Are you alright?"
Shen Jixiao covered one eye. "I’m fine."
"I’m sorry for forcibly awakening your spiritual power without your consent, which led to this situation," Qingbo said. "Your body can’t handle the sudden surge of spiritual energy yet, so we had to seal away the excess for now. The seal will release on its own once you’re strong enough to bear it."
"Is the seal placed on my eye?" he asked.
Qingbo nodded gently.
"My eye... seems a little strange," Shen Jixiao paused. "I’m seeing double. Is that a serious problem?"
"That’s not an issue," an unfamiliar mermaid spoke up. "Hello, I’m the physician of this settlement. The seal won’t affect your eyes. The double vision is likely due to your spiritual power."
The physician explained a few things.
Shen Jixiao closed his eyes.
His spiritual energy seemed impossible to retract for now—it was spilling out around his body.
He could see all the mermaids gathered around him, but strangely, beyond the outlines detected by his spiritual senses, he saw even more. He saw the elegant and composed Qingbo sneaking away with all the seaweed cakes after the ceremony. He saw the calm physician at home, making silly faces to amuse her children.
It was as if he was seeing the future—or perhaps the past.
Faintly, he heard the physician’s voice: "Based on my experience, the direction of your awakened trait leans toward perception, analysis, and foresight—a rare combination. We’ll need further observation to confirm. Also, your spiritual power has been suppressed for too many years, so it’s normal that you can’t control it yet. The double vision is just your brain mistaking your sixth sense for reality. It’ll fade in a few days."
"In a way, those shadows aren’t illusions. They’re a kind of reality that you perceive."
"I understand. Thank you all for your help. Without you, I might never have known I had this kind of spiritual power." Shen Jixiao nodded, then glanced around. "Where’s the little jellyfish?"
"He felt he couldn’t help with the treatment, so he left," Qingbo said. "But he did help a lot. Honestly, none of us fish could suppress you—only he could. Completing the seal must have drained a great deal of his mental energy."
Shen Jixiao sincerely thanked all the fish once more.
...
If not for the mermaid settlement, the issues plaguing him might never have been resolved. Shen Jixiao thought gloomily, unsure how he could ever repay the mermaids.
Countless illusions mingled with reality as the festival continued—laughter, playful tussles, and the mesmerizing, mysterious flicker of iridescent tails churning the water.
Dazed, he wandered past, searching for the little jellyfish, worried about its condition.
Before he knew it, he had swum to a deserted stretch of rocky shore with his vision crowded with overlapping illusions. Shen Jixiao had a hunch—the little jellyfish must be here.
He waded through the haze, unsure how long he had been drifting.
Until he saw a figure he knew all too well.
How many years had he longed for this?
How many years had he searched?
Now, here it was before him, yet he knew full well it was just another illusion. Shen Jixiao nearly laughed. Knowing it was fake, yet still stopping to stare—how foolish. And yet, he was happy, glad to see this phantom of the past once more.
Illusions were like that—unmoved by pleas or pity, nothing more than untouchable fragments of memory.
So Shen Jixiao remained calm.
No one around, no fish in sight. He pressed a hand against the stone wall beside him, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.
"You're here," he said, as calmly as one could while losing their mind. "I've been looking for you for so long."
The mermaid lowered its head, lips curling into a faint smile—talking to an illusion would surely make him seem insane, but sometimes venting to a phantom brought comfort. An illusion that would never respond, a place to pour out his unrest.
He blinked.
The illusion… moved?
...Probably just another trick of his mind. He lifted his head, ignoring his own delusions, and slowly approached while reaching out as he had countless times before, trying to touch what could never be touched.
Time to let the illusion fade. He needed to find the little jellyfish.
"Ah."
But the youth who had never once responded before let out a soft sound.
Shen Jixiao’s pupils trembled as the figure he had conjured turned its head. Leaning on one hand, soft, pale hair draped over its forehead as it tilted its head slightly, loose strands falling to frame gentle eyes. The face that had blurred in his dreams countless times now wore a smile. "You're awake."
It stood. Turned.
And suddenly, Shen Jixiao was embraced.
A real embrace.
...
"...Little jellyfish."
"Hm?" Tang You withdrew his mental energy. He had seen Shen Jixiao reach out with a desolate expression, looking like he needed comforting, so he had given him a mental hug. But afterward, the mermaid only grew stranger, his voice trembling. "What's wrong?"
The mermaid’s expression was as though he had just faced an unimaginable death, only to claw his way back to life from the ashes—solemn yet fragile, unbearably complex.
Nothing was more agonizing than believing you had regained what was lost, only to realize you were grasping at moonlit water.
"Nothing."
Shen Jixiao raised his hand, his fingers trembling as it took him a while to finally touch Tang You’s cool, smooth head—the illusion was fake, but the little jellyfish was real. Yet, the illusion didn’t seem entirely false either.
It felt too real.
If this was a trap, he would have died ten thousand times over.
“Was that… your psychic energy just now?”
“Yeah,” Tang You replied, not quite understanding but sensing the merman’s unstable mental state, so he allowed the other to touch his head. “My psychic energy—you’ve seen it many times before, haven’t you?”
Tang You even actively nuzzled against Shen Jixiao’s fingertips, using his slender tentacles to draw little circles on them.
His venom was minimal, practically nonexistent, so touching him didn’t hurt—just cool, soft, and tingling. Gradually, the merman calmed down as he kept gently stroking the little jellyfish’s head.
The little jellyfish was lively, showing no signs of psychic energy depletion.
“Speaking of which, it seems like you have a lot of psychic energy now. Have you awakened any related traits?”
“Not sure,” the merman gazed at the little jellyfish, feeling as though everything was a dream. For the first half of his life, he had believed he would never have any connection to psychic energy. “The physician said it was…”
Perception, analysis, foresight.
He might not necessarily see illusions—perhaps they were another form of reality.
“What was it?”
He had seen the illusion, met the little jellyfish, experienced a psychic fluctuation from eighteen years ago, and could now see the little jellyfish’s current fluctuations. They… were very similar.
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