The Love-Hate and Grudges Between Me and the Mermaid - Chapter 31

Chapter 31

“What’s so good about mermaids?”

Bu Yan knit her brows, but in the end, she didn’t say anything to stop her.

Fine, if her wife wants to watch, she can watch.

The aquarium also has sea lion and dolphin shows; they might as well see them all together.

With the plan decided, Bu Yan got out of bed decisively, not lingering in the blankets for a single second.

Slipping on her slippers, she began rummaging through the wardrobe, looking for clothes suitable for today.

Before long, two or three outfits were tossed onto the bed.

Yi An didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, laughing loudly as she thumped the headboard: “Bu Yan, don’t panic, don’t panic…”

“We don’t need to rush, we can still lie down for a while. It won’t be too late to go in the afternoon.”

“After all, it’s only eight o’clock in the morning…”

Hearing her wife’s soft, coquettish voice, Bu Yan finally stopped her movements.

True, the best aquarium in the Empire was right here in City A.

It was a thirty-minute drive or forty-five minutes by public transport.

No need to be in such a rush.

It wouldn’t be too late to head out after lunch.

Thinking this, Bu Yan tidied up and re-folded the clothes she had thrown on the bed, then lay back down.

Such a rare, beautiful, and quiet time better to lie here a bit longer.

Seeing this, Yi An shifted toward Bu Yan and obediently curled into her embrace. “Hold me, Bu Yan.”

She pulled Bu Yan’s hand, crossing it over her own small belly, gently stroking the point where they met with boundless attachment. “I want you to hold me.”

“It gets too hot after holding you for a while,” Bu Yan looked down, saying very seriously, “Yi An, I’m sensitive to heat, very much so.”

Yi An’s movements paused. After a moment of thought, she asked: “Does Bu Yan like things that are cool or icy?”

The excitement and exhilaration in her tone could not be hidden.

“Not exactly…”

No, wait, it seemed she did.

Bu Yan was a bit at a loss for words, not knowing how to describe it or how to explain it to Yi An.

However, Yi An didn’t seem to take it to heart; she tightened the hands that were embracing her and fell into a deep sleep within minutes.

The temperature where their skin touched grew higher and higher, gradually becoming damp and breaking out in fine beads of sweat.

Bu Yan moved her body slightly with some discomfort. Just as she was about to lift her hand and pull away from Yi An, a gust of cold air came from nowhere and slammed straight into her body.

The chill emanated from the inside out. Fearing that Yi An would wake up with a stomachache, Bu Yan had no choice but to hold her tightly, placing her hand on the other’s lower abdomen.

She rubbed it over and over to keep it warm.

She had truly raised an “ancestor.”

But Yan complained in her heart that beauty is truly a distraction.

Truly a distraction!!!

…

When she woke up again, it was already noon.

Bu Yan’s hand was still pressed against Yi An’s stomach. Logically, that spot should have been warm after so long, but in reality, it was still icy cold.

Bu Yan had every reason to suspect that Yi An was messing with her on purpose—

She was physically uncomfortable but wouldn’t tell her.

So, she pulled all the blankets over to Yi An’s side, wrapping her up tightly.

Then she got out of bed to get some hot water, filled a hot water bottle, and tucked it into the bed.

Next, she found a thermometer to take her temperature.

Five minutes later, Bu Yan took it out to look, and was instantly dumbfounded.

7 degrees.

?

Can a normal human have this temperature?

She hurriedly placed her hand on Yi An’s forehead; it was icy cold.

But Yan was stunned. Without a word, she put on her shoes and “deng-deng-deng” checked if the doors and windows were closed.

It must be the wind!

The wind must have blown into the room and cooled Yi An’s body temperature.

But she still found nothing; the doors and windows were tightly sealed, not even a fly could get in.

A massive wave of panic instantly swept through her entire body.

Is Yi An a corpse?

Is she already dead?

Only dead people have temperatures this low.

Bu Yan returned to the bedside, her hand trembling as she reached out to cautiously touch Yi An’s forehead again.

Still icy.

Measuring again with the thermometer, the temperature reached 14 degrees.

Holy father, Bu Yan was completely panicking now.

She put her hand under Yi An’s nose again; luckily, luckily, there was a breath.

It was a bit weak, but not much.

Yi An was still a living person.

It must just be that the house temperature is low; after all, it’s already December and there’s no heating in the room yet.

But Yan comforted herself this way, tucked a few more hot water bottles into the blankets, pulled out a thick quilt to cover her, and then lay back down herself.

She took off all her clothes and hugged Yi An forcefully, trying to use her own body heat to warm the other person.

But it was still to no avail.

Yi An’s body remained cool, but judging by the rise and fall of the body in her arms as she inhaled and exhaled, she wasn’t dead.

But why would her body temperature be so low?

A common phenomenon in this world?

Bu Yan fished her phone out from under the pillow and Baidu-ed related content.

The information everyone gave was:

Dead person.

Only dead people are like this.

[The poster must have slept themselves into a hallucination; are you sure your wife is still human? The corpse must be stinking by now, right?]

[I reasonably suspect the poster has a delusional disorder.]

Seeing these words, Bu Yan was also stunned, her thoughts uncontrollably drifting in that direction.

What if…

What if?

After all, this world wasn’t normal to begin with…

What if the original owner of this body was a bit mentally ill when she crossed over?

But this thought was quickly dismissed by Bu Yan, because Yi An’s body temperature had returned.

The Yi An in her arms seemed to sense her agitation and unease, and at exactly twelve o’clock noon, she slowly opened both eyes.

“Sister,” she knit her brows, calling out softly as she slowly hugged her, “Why are you crying?”

Only then did Bu Yan realize that her face was a mess of snot and tears; she was very uncomfortable and in a sorry state.

“I’m fine.” Bu Yan pretended to be composed, pulled some tissues from the nightstand, wiped herself randomly a few times, and then quickly grabbed the nearby thermometer to take Yi An’s temperature.

“You had a fever just now.”

Bu Yan held her breath and whispered: “I was very worried about you.”

A lie.

It was clearly because she found her abnormal body temperature was very low, unlike an ordinary person.

Yi An’s eyes darkened a few shades; humans really do love to deceive.

They even lie to the person sharing their pillow.

Actually, if Bu Yan hadn’t lied and had seriously talked to her about the strangeness she found in her body, she might have explained it properly.

Then she would have earnestly promised that she knew what she was doing, that she wouldn’t just kill others, and that she could protect her well so she wouldn’t be hurt again.

But Bu Yan lied to her.

Even though she was the one who let the other person discover and feel it in the first place—

Because she was afraid Bu Yan wouldn’t hold her because of the heat, she had slightly relaxed her hypnotic control, letting Bu Yan briefly feel her body’s true temperature.

“Sister,” seeing that Bu Yan still looked as if she had lost her soul, Yi An gently grabbed her hand and pulled it toward herself, “You are too tired.”

“You are having hallucinations.”

“I didn’t have a fever, I’m fine. It’s you who has a fever; you’ve worked too hard these past few days and collapsed from exhaustion.”

Yi An turned the tables, stuffing the thermometer into Bu Yan to take her temperature.

“Then why…”

Before Bu Yan could finish her sentence, an instantaneous drowsiness swept through her whole body; suddenly, she couldn’t even keep her eyelids open.

Her cognition was restructured, and everything that just happened was reversed.

It was she who was icy cold all over; it was Yi An who hurriedly went to get the thermometer; it was she who was unwell, making Yi An cry from worry…

It was also she who clung to Yi An, asking for hugs.

“I feel so awful, Yi An…”

Bu Yan’s body went soft and she collapsed on the bed. Her eyes were glazed and her expression dazed; headaches hit one after another, causing her immense pain.

“I really feel so awful.”

“Bu Yan,” Yi An pretended to take out the thermometer, holding it under the sun to look at the reading, her tone serious and cold, “You are sick.”

“It’s only natural to feel awful.”