Chapter Fifty-Three: The So-Called Master’s Jest

“Fish, carp?” I murmured, stumbling and nearly collapsing to the ground. Bitterly, I wondered why, after leaving Lingyun Mountain and coming here, I still couldn’t escape the fate of eating fish—worse yet, carp, my own companions.

Oh, oh, oh, this is just too awful.

I squatted down, face full of misery as I looked at Zilian, but he turned his head away, avoiding my gaze.

The young waiter, hearing Zilian’s question, wore an expression of pride. “We have countless fish dishes here, and even more made with carp. If you want to try them all, there’s no way you could finish everything by yourself.”

“Who says there’s only one person? Isn’t there another?” Zilian gestured for him to look back at me, still crouched on the floor.

“No, no. Little Fish doesn’t want to eat fish,” I protested anxiously, waving my hands and shuffling backward.

“That lad?” The waiter gave me a look of disdain. “He’s so small—how could he possibly eat that much?”

“What does it matter if he can or can’t eat it all? Bringing out the dishes is your business; whether they’re finished or not is mine. Enough talk—just bring the food,” Zilian replied with a smile, his tone calm and indifferent. Yet his words clearly made the waiter’s smile falter.

So, in the mortal world, people could turn me into so many delicious dishes.

Glancing around the inn, I saw fish on nearly every table. The guests at the next table were even more brazen—a plate of steamed carp sat conspicuously before them. They poked incessantly at the fish’s belly with their chopsticks, quickly devouring the flesh until nothing remained but the stark white bones, scattered in disarray upon the plate—a sight that chilled me to the bone.

A wave of nausea surged within me, and my legs gave out as I stumbled backward. Just as I feared my fish tail would hit the ground painfully, an arm wrapped around my waist through my clothes, pulling me into his embrace. The scent of lotus drifted to my nose.

Zilian tightened his hold around my waist, lowered his head, and frowned slightly as he looked at me. “It’s just watching others eat fish—why are you so unsettled?”

He sighed softly, as if resigned to my reaction.

I couldn’t voice the pain in my heart, so I could only stare helplessly as people devoured the fish. When the plate was cleared, leaving only bones, it felt as though all the strength drained from my body.

“Your teacher knows you love fish, and can’t bear to eat them. I hadn’t expected that even seeing others eat fish would frighten you so. Perhaps this is my fault,” he said.

“No, it’s not your fault,” I replied, fearing he’d discover my true nature as a girl. I struggled to stand, but my legs were still weak, and I fell back into his arms.

How could it be his fault? It was clearly because I was timid. To mortals—and to anyone who isn’t a fish, even immortals—fish are merely food.

Yet here I was, frightened to the point of weakness just by seeing others eat fish. I wondered how Zilian saw me now—did he find me overly sensitive, or just cowardly?

He smiled. “Your teacher finds your usual cheerful antics quite amusing. Today, though, you’re so silent I find myself bored. Knowing you love fish, I thought I’d ask the waiter to bring a few plates to tease you, but I never imagined it would frighten you like this.”

Tease? Good heavens! How could that be teasing—it was clearly meant to scare me. His earnest expression earlier would have fooled anyone into thinking he was serious.

I glared at him in reproach, but suddenly the arm around my waist trembled violently, and I toppled to the ground once more.

“Master, couldn’t you at least warn me before letting go?” I grumbled, rubbing my tail, which was nearly split in two from the fall.

He simply flicked his long sleeve, strode over to sit down, and said blandly, “No.”

Then he turned away, resuming his conversation with the waiter.

“This…”

This was truly infuriating—not a hint of apology in his demeanor.