The video finally froze on the image of Ai being taken away by the staff, leaving the audience in dead silence.
Xu Xiaoyou’s fingers tapped lightly on the desk as she gazed out the window at the sky where thunderclouds were rolling.
"The farce is just about over."
...
The next day at noon.
A black land-air vehicle came to a stop in front of the Iris Orphanage in the Keyboard District. Its dark body blended seamlessly with the overall color palette of the area, making it barely noticeable.
Everything here was monochromatic—the tall and short buildings, the roadside plants, and the hurried pedestrians. It looked like an industrial era from thousands of years ago, before color televisions were ever invented.
A leaden, heavy sky pressed down, and the air was thick with a sense of oppression. It was hard to tell if it was the dampness left by the heavy rain or the influence of the children’s weary little faces.
Feeling the gazes of the children at the orphanage entrance, the man stepping out of the car forced a peaceful smile onto his face.
Ayin Winter hated coming to the Keyboard District. However, to maintain his image as the "nice guy" of the Winter family and to uphold his noble, public persona as a philanthropist dedicated to helping impoverished children in the news, he had to visit this place in person.
The very air here was unbearable to him. An unpleasant smell permeated everything, despite the fact that the Star of Art was always strict about urban sanitation and millions in inspiration were allocated every year to the health bureau under Life Daybreak.
It wasn't the boozy stench of a drunkard on the street, nor the dirty body odor of the children, and it certainly wasn't the smell of uncollected trash. It was the scent of "inspiration depletion."
This place was filled with wandering artists who believed themselves to be unrecognized geniuses. This was the smell emanating from their greasy, unkempt hair.
He pushed open the rusted iron gate and bypassed the old camphor tree planted in the courtyard. A scrawny cat in the yard was startled and bolted into the shadows of the building.
The children hid behind curtains, poking their grimy little faces out to peek at this figure whose dress and appearance were so different from theirs.
Compared to the orphanages in the King's District, Queen's District, and Olympus District—which were luxuriously equipped with dedicated nannies for every child—this place was practically a slum. Seeing several preschool teachers letting the children roll around and play in the mud after the rain made Ayin’s brow furrow tightly.
His mood today was terrible. This was the fifth time his proposal to grant permanent residency status in the Star of Art to sub-human races—other than mermaids, fish-men, the blood spirit race, and the moon demon race—had been rejected during a Life Daybreak human rights discussion. This failure meant that the Multi-racial Children's Foundation he had painstakingly supported behind the scenes was facing dissolution.
The reason was simple: the high-ranking officials at the human rights discussion believed these creatures were aesthetic-less anomalies that radiated a stench from every pore. Allowing them to settle in the Star of Art would only pollute the air.
No one wanted to see trolls or ogres defecating in the middle of the clean, orderly streets of the Star of Art, even if he emphasized that these hetero-races could be contained within the Keyboard District.
Mid-thought, Ayin entered the Iris Orphanage, maintaining his kindly smile. He crouched down and reached out toward a child.
"How are you feeling today, little Berwick?"
The boy took two steps back. He wasn't afraid of the man in front of him, but rather the cold, grey iron box that was drawing closer.
After symbolically shaking hands and chatting with a few children, a flash of disgust crossed Ayin’s eyes. He took out a handkerchief and meticulously wiped his hands clean. Just then, the director of the Iris Orphanage appeared before him.
The woman noticed Ayin’s actions but said nothing, merely shaking her head slightly.
A few silver hairs fell from her forehead to her temples, masking some of her wrinkles and softening her face. She just stood there in silence, watching the children in the classroom reciting in unison with their teacher.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Aerylia," Ayin said.
"These children are actually very lively and imaginative," the woman said softly.
"If they didn't live in a world of only black and white, perhaps they could paint even more beautiful pictures."
Ayin caught the hidden meaning in her words. He knew she wasn't truly concerned about the children; she was asking if he would continue to provide funding next month.
"Mhm, they will surely paint them," Ayin said for the sake of the cameras.
"It’s been a long time, Mr. Ayin. Thank you for your years of dedication to these children," the woman said with a smile.
"Seeing you reminds me of that little blue-haired girl. I wonder how she is doing now."
"Please, come inside. Would you like some hot tea?"
The bell rang, marking the end of the children's last morning class. The subject was the history of the Star of Art. The monochromatic textbooks recorded content that would make most adults feel drowsy.
From the Fars Theocracy to the Star of Art—it seemed like a simple step, but it was a journey where countless practitioners had shed blood and tears. In the end, it was like a fairy tale where the hero defeats the dragon.
The teacher noticed a little girl still sitting in the corner. She walked over and saw the girl had used different shades of colored pencils to create a two-toned drawing.
"Little Alice, it's time for your nap," the teacher said gently.
The drawing recorded the little girl’s whimsy. It looked like a fish-man, but dressed in beautiful clothes with a stunningly attractive face, sitting on a reef by the shore and playing a flute.
"Oh? What is this?" A flash of surprise appeared in the teacher’s eyes.
"It’s a fish-man, Sister Mel. It’s the one from the story you often tell me before naps. This is the fish-man from the story."
"That’s not a fish-man, Alice. That’s a mermaid."
The girl asked innocently, "What’s the difference between a fish-man and a mermaid, anyway?"
"Mermaids are beautiful, while fish-men are ugly," the teacher explained patiently. "Every fish-man wears a veil to hide their face. Only when they use their talents to make people love them do they become beautiful and turn into mermaids."
"Alice, haven't you heard the story many times? The prince and the veiled fish-woman go on secret dates. Every time he wants to lift her mysterious veil, she panics and finds an excuse to run away."
"Until the final ball arrived, the girl finally learned the most beautiful dance in the world and won the admiration of all the nobility. When the prince finally lifted her veil, she had unknowingly transformed into a mermaid. The face under the veil, once covered in sores, became pure and moving, and she ran off to her marriage with the prince."
"I still don't quite understand, Sister Mel. Why do they only become pretty when they are liked? Is it because they are cursed?"
"That... I'm not really sure either." The teacher looked at the girl’s innocent, curious face with a complicated expression.
It wasn't that she truly didn't know the reason; she just didn't want the child to encounter the bloody truth too early and have her heart wounded.
Outside the window, Ayin walked past, hearing the discussion between the teacher and the child perfectly clearly.
Just like the fish-men of legend, they were originally ugly, bloody creatures. They used their beautiful singing voices to lure sailors lost in the fog at sea, then killed, skinned, and devoured them.
Until one day, a fish-man princess met a powerful wizard and fell in love. The wizard blessed this ugly race: as long as they never betrayed their vow of love, their descendants would become beautiful and gradually integrate into human society, no longer needing to maintain their race through bloody predation.
But greedy desires grew alongside their increasingly attractive appearances. Those rampant desires were like an endless abyss. They were no longer satisfied with earthly power and profit. Using those magnificent appearances, they seduced the gods of the stars and betrayed the powerful wizard’s vow. The stars cast down a curse, and they reverted to that ugly form, driven out by the nobility of society.
At the brink of racial extinction, a sage among the fish-men traveled over mountains and rivers to a castle in the far east. There, he made a pact with the demon in the castle. While paying a heavy price, he also allowed his race to escape the curse of the stars to a certain extent, allowing them to endure.
"If you can attract others despite your ugly appearance, then you shall remain beautiful."
"Conversely, the moment you no longer emit light and no one cares for you, your soul shall belong to me."
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