Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

  Blub!

  Inside the bathtub, a string of bubbles emerged.

  Sihwa stuck her head and shoulders out of the water, sleepily wiped the water off of her face, and yawned.

  It was quiet towards the direction of the bedroom; there were no other sounds other than the sound of the monkey typing.

  She was still not fully awake. If it wasn’t for the sunlight that happened to shine on the water through the curtains of the small bathroom window––where a small angle of refracting light hit her face at the bottom of the tub––she would most likely not be awake now.

  In the past, when Zhang Zian would go into the bathroom to wash up, Sihwa would often be woken up from the noise. Ever since she had gotten her phone, she had started going to sleep later at night. She would always play with it until the battery was left with only one percent before reluctantly putting it down and calling Zhang Zian over to charge it for her. When she woke up the next day, the fully charged phone would always be placed on the bathroom cabinet.

  She glanced at the screen and took a look at the time. The 100 percent battery gave her an inexplicable sense of security. It was a little short of nine in the morning; it was not too late, but Zhang Zian and the other elfins were used to getting up early.

  Outside the window, a faint voice could be heard coming from downstairs. She brushed up the curtains and raised her hand to block the sunlight, then squinted her eyes and looked down. She saw Zhang Zian holding onto the dog and talking to two other strangers while walking outside. One of the men was carrying a camera that looked really professional.

  She thought about it and guessed that the two were probably people from the television station because she had watched a drama with plots set around television stations.

  Zhang Zian went out with them and she did not know where they went. No one would come up to the second floor for the time being––because she had never seen anyone other than Zhang Zian come up to the second floor.

  She pressed on the camera icon, slanted her head and did a peace sign, then took a selfie without saying a word.

  “En, today I’m pretty pretty!” She looked at her own photo with satisfaction.

  There were already a lot of photos in the photo album––99 percent of which were her selfies––which all looked a bit similar because the background of the selfie was very monotonous. It was all the same bathtub, tiles, and bathroom shelves.

  Other than the selfies, there were also some ordinary photos, which were shot with the rear camera. The angle of the photos taken was almost the same: They were all taken from the high angle. It was the photos she took of the pedestrians from outside the small bathroom window, and there were also pictures of birds that had descended onto the window sill.

  The rear camera was actually much more powerful than the front camera; it was able to bring the subject closer, and it could also make the picture look much more clear—the scientific name was known as zoom.

  While the pedestrians were unaware, Sihwa would save their actions and expressions through taking a picture, and after that, she would carefully examine the pictures. Sometimes, she would be able to see the anxiety and desire on their faces. She was intrigued watching them––whether it was a raise or a promotion, a wish for a relationship and kids, malicious competitions, gains and losses, all them were part of the weight of life.

  She was a little envious of the human leg––well, she was very envious. Whether they were long or short, fat or thin, they could go wherever they wanted to go––even on an impromptu trip.

  But she couldn’t, because she didn’t have legs. Although she was able to go on an impromptu swimming trip, the human “traveling” wasn’t really “traveling by foot,” but by riding in a car, taking a boat, or boarding a plane. “Walking” was only a small part of the traveling journey, but for her, she could only swim… The result of her last impromptu swimming trip left her being tired on the beach in Germany.

  Of course, not all humans had two healthy legs. Occasionally, she would witness disabled people in wheelchairs or old people passing by downstairs. They didn’t seem to blame the heavens, but they tended to be optimistic and hearty. They seemed to be happier than those who were healthy—perhaps it was because they lacked two healthy legs, so they had less ambition for life and their career. That also meant that they didn’t have to be so hard on themselves or force themselves to bear the extra weight.

  Know contentment and you’ll always be happy—that’s what Zhang Zian always said.

  Therefore, whenever Sihwa was envious of the human legs, she would secretly rejoice. If she had legs, wouldn’t she be nothing more than a mundane person in the real world, drifting along with life, face filled with exhaustion? How could it compare to being a happy mermaid like her? Even though she was often ridiculed as an idiot by Fina, at least she had the privilege to wake up naturally everyday and playing with her phone until it ran out of battery. The only problem was that she was a little lonely.

  She was lost in her thoughts, and before she knew it, the battery of the phone was no longer 100 percent. That made her feel a sense of urgency because from 99 percent onwards, it was not all that far from one percent.

  She closed the photo album, and the screen wallpaper was the selfie of her and Fina. No matter what it said, Fina didn’t plan to take a second shot with her.

  “Well, let’s see if anyone has contacted me,” she muttered to herself. She then opened her QQ and WeChat––the chat apps were all registered with the phone card that Zhang Zian had bought for her.

  There were no unread messages in WeChat, though there were four unread messages in QQ, three of which were the news, and one was from the QQ weather.

  Of course, there was only one friend in the chat apps, which was Zhang Zian, and he obviously wouldn’t make the special effort to talk to her through the chat app.

  “Hmph… hmph! One day I’ll fill up my friend’s list and all of them will be handsome, rich, and my long-legged oppa! Let that cheapskate be ashamed of himself and delete his account to appease the wrath of the world! Wahaha!”


  The more she thought about it, the more excited she got and she couldn’t stop laughing.

  The laughter may have been a bit too arrogant; it caused the typing outside to stop for a brief moment before it continued.

  While Zhang Zian was away, she decided to try the live broadcast that she had long been curious about—of course, she could still try it when Zhang Zian was present, but who knew when he might decide to come upstairs and it would be embarrassing to be seen by him.

  It wasn’t because she had no confidence in herself; she had already watched a lot of live broadcasts for some time, and the anchors didn’t even have any capabilities. Leaving aside the anchors who played games, she simply couldn’t understand what they were playing and why they were getting so excited. There were food anchors, who were just competing over who could eat more––they would eat 100 scallops and 50 sausages in one go. They were just pigs, and she was traumatized by the chili powder and cumin powder. However, the most speechless ones were the talent anchors––whether it was singing or dancing, they were all just ordinary and very boring!

  As for the girl named Snowy who came to the pet store for a live broadcast, Sihwa had also watched her live broadcast and her previous live videos. Compared to other anchors, Snowy’s performance was not so fake, but that was about it. Sihwa was unable to see why she was so popular…


  Sihwa was filled with confidence. As long as she started to broadcast live, there would be a large number of audience members flocking in, and a lot of gifts would fall like rain. Not to mention that she would bring in millions daily––even tens of millions were possible. She would leave the cheapskate envious!

  The only problem now was… what content was she going to broadcast live?