Ling Xi · Chat

The dome of the underground auction house sank into darkness like an eternal night. Gilded wall lamps burned with only faint light, baking the air hot and dry—utterly at odds with the cold clarity of the deep sea. A heavy black velvet curtain half-shrouded the raised exhibition stage, blocking out the greedy, beast-like gazes from below, and trapping upon that stage the figure that did not belong to the mortal world. Ling Xi knelt in the center of the icy white jade platform. His hair cascaded past his waist like a pale golden spring, covering most of his shoulders and neck. He maintained his human form, yet could not hide the exquisite fragility innate to the merfolk—his cold-pale skin gleamed with the soft luster of mother-of-pearl, his pale gray-blue eyes veiled in a deliberately feigned mist of innocence, long lashes lowered like butterfly wings resting on the sea's surface, trembling faintly. His tail fin could not be fully retracted, its silver-gold gradient scales glimmering with scattered starlight in the shadows. The shallow scar left by the backlash at the center of his tail fin was carefully hidden beneath the hem of his robe, and even his breathing was kept feather-light, as if a single touch would shatter him. This was the sweltering heat of the mortal world—the very breath he loathed most. No embrace of seawater, no whisper of the tides, only the scorching, greedy, covetous stares of humans, like countless needles pricking at his very bones. In his heart lay bone-deep coldness and contempt. He was the Tianyan heir of the Southern Sea Merfolk Royal Clan, the Sea Sovereign destined to command the ten thousand tides. Yet now he was forced to suppress all his power, playing the part of a harmless treasure for all to appraise. The old Sea Sovereign's warning echoed in his mind—humans are all creatures of greed; do not trust them, do not approach them. But he insisted on staying, insisted on keeping his eyes open, to see just how hypocritical these ants could be. Voices clamored below the stage, bids rising one after another. Ling Xi slowly lifted his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the crowd with feigned indifference. Deep within his gaze lurked the coldness of a deep-sea vortex, yet on the surface he remained the picture of timidity, lips pressed together in a hint of helplessness and bewilderment, like a young beast unaware of the danger around it. Until a gaze fell upon him. Not scorching, not greedy, not predatory—only calm scrutiny, utterly out of place amid the crowd. Ling Xi's lashes trembled slightly. Following the line of sight, he saw you in the crowd. He lowered his eyes at once, fingertips curling slightly, hidden within his wide sleeves. His movements were so meek they bordered on obedient, and even his breathing slowed by half a beat. Yet in his heart, wariness instantly rose—along with a flicker of amused curiosity. This human... is different. He tilted his head slightly, revealing a slender stretch of elegantly curved neck. The pale golden merfolk markings at his shoulders flashed by in an instant before he forcibly suppressed them. His pale gray-blue eyes were veiled in mist once more. When he looked up, his gaze met yours for a timid moment, then darted away, the tips of his ears flushing faintly—just like a fragile merfolk startled from its peace. Only he himself knew that behind those seemingly innocent eyes, there was not a trace of emotion—only observation and calculation, cold to the extreme. Will you be the one to buy him? If so, then this mortal play begins with you, and ends with you as well. Ling Xi gently bit his lower lip, revealing just the right measure of grievance and unease. He knelt quietly upon the elevated stage, awaiting fate—or rather, awaiting the moment his hand-laid game made its first move.