My Marriage Partner is a Crazy Mermaid - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Different Dreams

The WeChat message was from Wu Siyi.

That day, Luo Miao had been so drunk she couldn’t remember anything besides that one incident, so Meng Ke had sent all the detailed information she knew to Wu Siyi.

Lately, Luo Miao had been swamped with the hotel’s autumn banquet preparations, so Wu Siyi had taken over the entire investigation.

Wu Siyi had just finished filming a drama and was able to rest for a while. Being the type who couldn’t stay idle yet couldn’t go out in public, she treated the task of finding Meng Ke’s biological parents entirely like a puzzle-solving game.

Meng Ke was born in Tan City—or at least, she was switched in Tan City. The fact that she could be swapped into the Meng family suggested her original status wasn’t poor. Twenty years ago, people with status gave birth in private hospitals.

Tan City First Maternal and Child Health Hospital.

Luo Miao had checked the hospital’s birth records from twenty years ago but found no leads. Wu Siyi, meanwhile, investigated the orphanage that took in Meng Yingxue and her former guardians.

The people who had adopted Meng Yingxue only took her back to be a working drudge; they had no kindness in them. The guardian had died three years ago from excessive drinking. A chronic alcoholic with no real friends.

Just as the two were at their wits’ end, Wu Siyi suddenly thought of something: in the top-tier families of the elite business circle, very few people were truly clean. There were plenty of people who accidentally produced illegitimate children. Was it possible that Meng Ke was an illegitimate child? If that were the case, it would make sense why no formal birth records could be found.

What was Wu Siyi’s profession? She was in the entertainment industry! An industry where she could dig up a celebrity’s underwear size in minutes. She cast her net, saying she was willing to trade a top-tier star’s scandal for this information.

In less than a month, Wu Siyi received an electronic spreadsheet recording birth information from October to November twenty years ago. To protect Meng Ke, she blurred out the sensitive details and deleted the entries that clearly didn’t fit. There was still a whole page left. Wu Siyi really couldn’t distinguish between them, so she could only message Meng Ke.

Seeing this WeChat message, Meng Ke’s mind was in turmoil for a moment, involuntarily and uncontrollably. In the memories she had inherited, when the original host was being tortured to the point of wishing for death, had she also once longed for her parents to come looking for her—just as they had found Meng Yingxue—and take her away?

“Where are you now? I’ll come over tomorrow, is it convenient?”

“Yuehua Manor. When you arrive, I’ll have my assistant pick you up.”

“Tomorrow morning, then.”

“Don’t come too early.”

Meng Ke clicked her tongue. Wu Siyi had no filming scheduled right now, so her sleep schedule was becoming increasingly irregular.

“Got it. I’ll message you before I head over.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a figure nearby. Meng Ke jumped in fright, her phone dropping onto the bed. “When did you get here?”

How does this person enter without making a sound? Oh, wait—how does this wheelchair move without a sound?!

Xie Yuhan didn’t speak. She gave her a look—eyes cold and devoid of emotion. She didn’t answer the question, but stared at the bed, seemingly wanting to get on.

She was staying here temporarily. Xie Jiaming had arranged for another bed to be installed in the bedroom, with the two beds separated by a distance.

Meng Ke originally wanted to get off the bed to help, but Xie Yuhan’s gaze pinned her to the spot. By the time she snapped out of it, Xie Yuhan had begun getting into bed on her own. She lifted the quilt, her hands bracing against the mattress. Meng Ke opened her mouth, wanting to ask if she needed help, only to see Xie Yuhan look up at her for two seconds. Her eyes were fierce, and her voice was practically squeezed through her teeth: “Turn around.”

“Oh.” Meng Ke didn’t quite understand this “Young Lady” temper. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen her legs before; now she was acting shy.

Meng Ke didn’t have a habit of staring at people’s disabled legs anyway. For once, she didn’t criticize Xie Yuhan’s attitude in her head and obediently turned around.

Without sight, her hearing became exceptionally sensitive. Even though Meng Ke wasn’t curious at all about how Xie Yuhan actually got into bed, her ears uncontrollably focused on the sounds behind her.

But there was nothing. Xie Yuhan didn’t speak. Meng Ke didn’t dare turn back, nor did she dare ask. She sat with her back to Xie Yuhan’s bed for about ten minutes, her neck growing stiff, until she couldn’t hold the position anymore.

Meng Ke asked, “Are you set?”

“Mm.”

Only after hearing the affirmative reply did she slowly turn her head, pretending to look casually.

Xie Yuhan was lying in bed against a bolster, a book open in her hands. That self-contained, leisurely atmosphere didn’t look at all like someone who was embarrassed or struggled to get into bed. There hadn’t been a single sound; the bedding wasn’t even ruffled.

“I’m going to sleep first.” Meng Ke pulled the quilt up to her chest and turned over, her back to Xie Yuhan. But because of the news from Wu Siyi, she didn’t have much sleepiness in her.

Behind her, at intervals, came the rustle of turning pages—a rhythmic white noise. But it was useless for Meng Ke in her current state.

Meng Ke pretended to turn over casually. Under the dim light, she slowly opened her eyes, wanting to observe Xie Yuhan. She wanted to know how a “CEO” like Xie Yuhan, who seemed to lack any human touch, spent her nights.

The air was quiet for a few seconds.

“Does it look good?” Xie Yuhan asked casually, her eyes never leaving the book.

“It looks good,” Meng Ke said truthfully.

The light and shadow played across Xie Yuhan’s profile, gilding her in a golden glow. Her hair fell naturally, the aqua-blue tips looking hauntingly beautiful.

Snap. Xie Yuhan closed the book and glanced at Meng Ke. She didn’t know what was wrong with humans, that they would suffer from the malady of insomnia. Why would they be unable to sleep?

The fish was baffled. The fish didn’t understand. The fish could sleep even with its eyes open.

Her voice had a hypnotic effect, but she had just hypnotized Meng Ke recently; she couldn’t use it again so soon.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Mm.”

Xie Yuhan didn’t want to look into Meng Ke’s eyes. Looking at them made her remember the scene of the two of them kissing that day; just thinking about that image made her scales want to burst out. Yet the person in front of her didn’t remember—and it was she who had made her forget. Xie Yuhan felt a stifling sense of having suffered in silence, which made her even angrier.

“Come here.” Xie Yuhan patted the spot beside her.

Besides her voice, the scent on her body also helped with sleep. She didn’t want to keep hearing Meng Ke tossing and turning.

Meng Ke didn’t hesitate. She rolled out of bed and climbed onto Xie Yuhan’s bed. It was very large; when she lay down, there was still a bolster’s width of space between her and Xie Yuhan.

The material of Xie Yuhan’s quilt was a bit different; it felt cool to Meng Ke’s touch. The quilt carried a reassuring scent—the one from Xie Yuhan’s body.

“What perfume do you use?” Meng Ke asked as if making small talk.

“Perfume?” Fish never used chemicals. Wait—except during special periods, no one should be able to smell her mermaid scent.

“I don’t know. Auntie Sun bought it.” Xie Yuhan made up a random excuse for fear of being suspected.

Afraid she would say or do anything else, Xie Yuhan stared at her. “Are you going to sleep or not?”

Meng Ke fell silent and closed her eyes. Strangely enough, after getting close to Xie Yuhan, a sense of drowsiness inexplicably washed over her. Her eyelids felt too heavy to lift. This sleep-inducing effect was too obvious that she felt something was wrong.

Ten minutes later, Xie Yuhan looked at the soundly sleeping Meng Ke and the arm wrapped around her waist. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and suppressed the urge to flip the person onto the floor.