Chapter 33: The Scent of Betrayal

Mermaid A31 was scheduled for release in mid-October—hardly a peak season for box office traffic.

Few people had high hopes for the film; even the fans of the two leads weren’t particularly expectant. However, the promotional posters did manage to stir some ripples online.

— My goodness, it’s gorgeous! — The poster is to die for, but I’ve been disappointed too many times. Usually, the poster and the actual film look like two different people. — Just the poster alone makes me interested.

But that was as far as it went.

After filming wrapped, Shen Xun received offers for several variety shows. Even the director of the survival show reached out, hoping she would collaborate on the fourth season. Shen Xun turned them all down. Instead, she accepted a few product endorsements.

She believed that if all went as planned, Mermaid A31 would make an impact. When that happened, better scripts would come her way. If she spent too much time on variety shows, she risked being pigeonholed as a “variety personality” rather than an actress. The endorsements were small, but they provided a steady income.

Without Zhao Xue’s constant interference, the air felt fresher. However, while scrolling through her phone, she occasionally saw “CP” (Couple) posts about her and Zhao Xue. Shen Xun didn’t understand it and even found it irritating. The movie hadn’t even aired yet, and they already had shippers. Once it released, fans would likely start “canonizing” them.

There was nothing she could do about it. She had known since reading the script that no matter who played these roles, CP fans were inevitable.

One day, just after finishing a milk endorsement shoot, Shen Xun received a call while removing her makeup. It was from Qin Chen. She went to the restroom to take it.

Qin Chen’s voice came through the line, raspy and unpleasant: “Shen Xun… can you come to the hospital? I have something important to tell you.”

Shen Xun frowned. “Sure.” She hung up and began to think.

Qin Chen is awake? The lack of news online suggested he had only recently regained consciousness. Calling her personally instead of through an assistant meant he truly had something to say. Although she disliked him—finding him a complete fool in many respects—she couldn’t deny that, when in a normal state, he was a competent boss.

At 5:00 PM, wearing a mask and a hat, Shen Xun arrived at Qin Chen’s ward. She hadn’t visited since he fell into a coma. As she pushed the door open, she found someone had beaten her to it: Zhao Xue.

Zhao Xue was clearly shocked to see her. Her expression flickered between surprise, anger, and various shades of annoyance before she shot Shen Xun a glare. Then, she turned back to Qin Chen, her voice soft and sweet. “A-Chen, should I call the doctor to check on you again?”

Shen Xun felt a cold sneer in her heart. That voice is so strained it’s practically a squeak.

Qin Chen, lying on the bed, had hollow cheeks and pale, dry lips. He looked incredibly frail, his body still stiff from months of inactivity. He spoke with a ragged voice: “Zhao Xue… you… get out.”

Zhao Xue acted as if she hadn’t heard him. “A-Chen, do you want something to eat? I’ll have someone bring something over.”

Qin Chen’s eyes shifted. “I said, get out.” His irritation was palpable.

Zhao Xue lowered her lashes and bit her lip. She couldn’t understand why he was treating her like this after waking up. She wasn’t one to keep pressing where she wasn’t wanted; she clenched her fists, turned, and shot one last glare at Shen Xun by the door. Her eyes were moist, looking thoroughly aggrieved.

Shen Xun remained expressionless. Why are you glaring at me? I didn’t do anything to you. If you have the guts, glare at your ‘A-Chen’.

Zhao Xue lingered, looking back with every step. As she passed Shen Xun, she bumped into her shoulder hard.

Shen Xun muttered under her breath, “Crazy.”

Zhao Xue snorted, but her teary-eyed expression lacked any real menace. Shen Xun glanced at her. “Why are you acting spoiled with me?”

Zhao Xue’s eyes went round. “Are you blind? When was I acting spoiled!”

Shen Xun let out a dry laugh. “You’re doing it right now.”

They spoke in whispers, but to Qin Chen, their heads looked like they were touching. He coughed, interrupting their exchange. Zhao Xue pursed her lips, internally cursing both of them as idiots, and hurried out.

Only Shen Xun and Qin Chen remained in the room. Qin Chen, still largely immobile, said softly, “Shen Xun, please close the door.” He was polite and gentle—a stark contrast to his attitude toward Zhao Xue.

Shen Xun raised an eyebrow. Did someone swap his soul while he was asleep? He’s actually being polite. She closed the door and walked to his bedside, studying him.

Qin Chen slowly lowered his eyelids. “Shen Xun, I’m sorry.”

Shen Xun frowned, confused by the sudden apology. Qin Chen sighed, offering no explanation, and instead said, “Shen Xun, I want to join a monastery. I will give you—”

Shen Xun’s frown deepened. She didn’t mince words: “Qin Chen, have you lost your mind?”

Qin Chen gave a faint, weary smile. “It’s just some memories. In my previous life, after you were driven to death by rumors… I realized you were never ‘the substitute.’ Zhao Xue never loved me; she only used me for resources. But I helped those rumors grow. I didn’t stop her slanders against you; I even covered up her misdeeds. I killed the person I loved most.”

He explained that after he realized the truth, he exposed Zhao Xue’s crimes, leading her down the same dark path she had forced on Shen Xun. In the years that followed, he lived as a hollow shell. He decided that if he ever got a second chance, he would set Shen Xun free. He would never touch love again, as long as she was happy.

He hadn’t expected the heavens to actually grant him this chance to “live” again.

Shen Xun didn’t find it funny. She curled her lips into a mirthless smile. “Qin Chen, your words don’t carry much weight with me.”

Qin Chen looked at her. Shen Xun and Zhao Xue looked nothing alike; how could he have been so blind? “I know it’s hard to believe, but I am serious.”

Shen Xun met his gaze without flinching. “If you want me to believe you, it’s simple. Bring Zhao Xue’s dirty laundry into the light. And clear up the mess regarding the two shows I filmed.”

Qin Chen promised solemnly, “Alright.”

Sensing his sincerity, Shen Xun’s smile faded. “Do it after Mermaid A31 finishes its run.”

“Okay.”

He truly seemed like a different person. Shen Xun merely gave a cynical smirk; Qin Chen must know that doing so would ruin Zhao Xue instantly. “Fine. Whatever. I’m leaving.” She didn’t take his words to heart. How could someone’s fundamental nature change just by waking up from a nap?

As she turned to go, Qin Chen reached out a trembling hand. “Shen Xun, wait—”

But all he saw was her cold, receding back. He looked out the window. In time, she will know I meant it.

Wang Ling was an ordinary college student, but her best friend was a die-hard Zhao Xue fan and had dragged her to see Mermaid A31. To be honest, Wang Ling wasn’t a fan of GL (Girls’ Love) films and had no interest in the genre. But unable to withstand her friend’s nagging, she found herself in the theater.

She looked around. The movie clearly wasn’t a blockbuster; the theater wasn’t even full. As she was grumbling internally, the lights dimmed.

Wang Ling leaned back lazily. She could hear the whispers of other audience members.“Is it really as beautiful as the poster?””Definitely. I hope the director didn’t cut the intimate scenes.””Ugh, I told you this is a waste of time. What’s so great about two women dating?””Don’t let me down, I’m a shipper!”

Wang Ling glanced at her friend and thought about sneaking out her phone. But then, the light on the screen changed. Blue?

She looked up. In an instant, she was captivated by a breathtakingly beautiful, platinum-gold mermaid tail. As the camera panned up, an incredible face filled the screen. Wang Ling stared, her mind completely ensnared. She didn’t even hear the gasps around her.

The mermaid on screen was like a sea spirit, with long, curling hair the same color as its tail and eyes as bright as the morning sun. It was so dazzling, glowing in the deep blue ocean. Its gaze was pure and clear, like a newborn’s.

Suddenly, a massive net dropped, capturing the creature. No matter how it struggled, it was hauled onto a ship. Its eyes turned cold, filled with a thick, murderous intent, yet beneath that, one could see buried helplessness and fear.

The mermaid opened its mouth, and a haunting song echoed through the theater, making Wang Ling’s heart tremble. The sailors surrounded it, laughing and discussing how much they could sell it for. The mermaid was pinned down, only able to bare its teeth in a show of futile ferocity.

Finally, it was sent to the lab. It slammed its tail against the cage, to no avail. Then, someone walked in. The perspective shifted to follow the mermaid’s gaze as the figure grew larger: a woman in a white lab coat and black-rimmed glasses. Even in such simple attire, she was stunning. The faint dark circles under her eyes added a touch of “mad scientist” to her gentle mask.

Wang Ling recognized her as Zhao Xue. Though she smiled gently, the audience could tell it didn’t reach her eyes. She approached the mermaid, unfazed by its terrifying snarls or bared fangs.

She recorded notes calmly: “Mermaid, designated A31. Approximately two meters long. Golden eyes. The 31st mermaid captured…”

After a while, the mermaid grew tired and stopped moving. The human stopped as well, placing a hand against the glass and smiling faintly. The mermaid tilted its head, sensing no immediate threat. It moved closer to that hand.

The human looked at the mermaid, lost in thought. “They say mermaid tears can cure diseases. But they only fall when the mermaid feels true despair.” She smiled. “Let me introduce myself, A31. My name is Li. You’ll be seeing me every day from now on.”

Wang Ling was getting into the story when she heard sobbing next to her. She turned to see her friend crying. She whispered, “Why are you crying already?”

Her friend choked out, “Because Li doesn’t love the mermaid.” She had read the original novel and was already projecting the tragic ending onto the screen. “Ignore me, just watch.”

Wang Ling returned her focus to the screen, thinking her friend was just too sensitive. She rarely cried at sad movies because most actors weren’t skilled enough to pull her in. She admitted the movie was good so far, but she didn’t think she would cry.

The story continued. The mermaid’s gaze grew more fervent with every visit from the human, even as its body became covered in more wounds. Its every movement conveyed a single message: it had fallen in love with the human.

Wang Ling felt a knot in her stomach. She knew where those wounds came from—the very human the mermaid adored.

Then came the breeding cycle. The mermaid took the human while she was sleeping. Wang Ling almost jumped out of her seat. It was… so erotic. The kiss was intense—was that real? It was so bold. On screen, the mermaid’s tail rose and fell as the camera panned to their entwined legs and settled on their kiss.

Wang Ling’s face was flushed. The tension was incredible! Even though very little was actually shown, the raw sexual chemistry made it feel like an R-rated film. The mermaid’s eyes looked so real, as if it truly loved the human with every fiber of its being.

When the scene ended, Wang Ling breathed a sigh of relief, only to be hit by even more explosive moments. As she watched them together in the water—the mermaid transforming its tail into legs—she was gripping her trousers in excitement. It was so intense!

She was completely immersed now. Watching their “sweet” interactions, her eyes shone. They’re so perfect for each other!

However, by the end, Wang Ling was sobbing like a child, especially during the scene where the mermaid finally shed a tear. Her heart actually ached. She thought, Mom, I’m done for. I think your daughter just turned gay.

The theater was a sea of sobs. Just when they thought it couldn’t get any more tragic, the film showed Li staying by her lover’s side, ignoring A31’s fate and allowing others to take the mermaid away.

A guy in the theater yelled out, “Damn it, Li! Look at the mermaid! Oh my god, ugh!”

But Li couldn’t hear him. The mermaid was taken to an operating table. The researchers around it spoke in the mermaid’s tongue: “Actually, the one who imprisoned you was Dr. Li—the human you saw every day. Those wounds were her doing. Don’t be too sad; we’re here to set you free.”

The mermaid didn’t seem to hear them. It simply stared at the door of the lab with a mix of despair and a tiny, flickering hope, as if waiting for someone. But that person never came. As the mermaid’s golden eyes dimmed and slowly closed, a subtitle appeared on the screen:

Li, actually… mermaids have a very sensitive sense of smell.

The mermaid died on the operating table. The theater erupted into wailing.

Wang Ling’s friend was hyperventilating. “The mermaid knew the whole time! It knew! Li did experiments on its flesh every day; how could the mermaid not smell its own blood on her? It knew! My A31… my mermaid… waaaa!”

The sweetness of the beginning made the tragedy of the end even sharper. Wang Ling, who hadn’t been prepared, was devastated. The “knife” of the plot had cut deep. She couldn’t stop her tears. “I hate Li! Why didn’t she love the mermaid? Why!”

She wiped her eyes with a tissue, comforted by the fact that everyone—men and women alike—was crying. She wasn’t the only one making a scene.

Overnight, Mermaid A31 went viral. Shen Xun’s social media following skyrocketed, and her fan forums exploded.

— Everyone, go watch it! Such a sweet couple, you won’t regret it! — Shen Xun and Zhao Xue’s acting is incredible! — The most touching movie of the year! — Oh my god, the heat is off the charts! Director Zhao is the best!

The netizens who had seen the film seemed to have formed a silent pact, collectively posting that the movie was “so sweet.” This piqued the curiosity of others and original novel fans.

— What? Why is everyone saying A31 is sweet? The novel is depressing as hell. Did they change the ending? I’m curious. — Everyone’s talking about it, I guess I’ll go see this ‘sweet couple’. — I’m a Shen Xun anti-fan. I’m going to see how ‘good’ the acting really is. I’ll be back!

Then, even more people started posting about the “super sweet couple” and the “unbelievable acting.” More and more people were “tricked” into the theater, only to come out sobbing and immediately posting “It’s so sweet!” to lure in the next victim.

Mermaid A31—was an absolute sensation.