I Was Just a Little Goldfish—But After a Handsome Guy Took Me Home, I Ended Up Becoming His Girlfriend on the Ferris Wheel

I was just a little goldfish, scooped up and brought home by some ridiculously good-looking guy.

And let me tell you, this guy was something else—he strutted around the apartment half-naked pretty much every day, flexing like he was in his own private music video. The water in my tank would turn pink all the time, though I’m still not sure if that was from the lighting or just his sheer hotness radiating through the place.

Honestly, with a body like his, what else was I supposed to do? I could only stare, totally mesmerized, my little fish heart thumping away. I figured this was it for me: a lifetime chilling with my handsome human, eating good food and living the high life. And honestly? Not bad at all.

But then, on this one night when the moon was so round it almost freaked me out, something wild happened. I turned into a person.

I know, I know—my life has been bizarre since day one. I wasn’t born in some fancy aquarium. My mom got tossed down a storm drain, floated into a muddy little ditch, and that’s where I popped out. I always thought I’d spend my days hanging out with a bunch of fishy sisters in the stream, living a basic fish life.

But nope, some sleazy vendor came along and scooped me up. I was just one of those cheap goldfish, the kind you get for a few bucks. He didn’t even bother putting me in a decent box—just plopped me in a raggedy plastic bag and called it a day.

Honestly, though? It beat that dirty ditch by a mile. The water was clean, I could swish my tail around, and for once, I actually felt comfortable.

I thought my claim to fame would be staring down the other fish at the market, but before I knew it, I’d been bought by Mr. Handsome.

And I never understood it—what was a guy like him doing in a wet market, buying fish? Maybe for hot pot, I guess. The bass next to me joked, “Careful, you might end up in spicy broth.” Even the little yellow croaker smirked, “Or maybe you’ll get dried up and salted.”

Didn’t take long before I stopped worrying about my fate, though. The real headline was my new view: that gorgeous guy, shirtless, casually walking around his apartment. Who could blame me for being glued to the glass?

Staring at his abs became my new full-time hobby. No more making fishy faces at distant relatives in the tank—my whole world was just him. The water in my tank practically glowed pink these days. I mean, come on, who wouldn’t want to live like this?

He’d take showers without a shirt, and I’d just float around, totally content with my fish privileges. Fresh water, plenty of oxygen, a giant tank with lush green plants to hide in…life was pure bliss. Premium fish food made me plump and shiny; I was living the dream.

Just as I was daydreaming about how lucky I was, a pair of sapphire-blue eyes appeared out of nowhere.

Holy—wait, hold up! That’s not right. Why is there a cat?!

It all happened in a split second, but my little fish brain ran the numbers. Cat’s paw area, two centimeters to safety, trajectory, speed… It was pointless. The cat’s paws were everywhere, and every corner spelled danger. I was calculating like crazy, ready for survival mode.

“Meatball! Down!”

“Meow!”

The cat meowed and nearly gave me a heart attack. I freaked out, darting all over the tank—and, in my panic, yeah, I pooped myself. So embarrassing.

Mr. Handsome came over and changed my water, and I was too mortified to even look up. Meanwhile, the furry menace lounged on the couch, licking its paws like nothing happened. I swore vengeance, but let’s be real—I was no match for a fat housecat. Not getting eaten was enough of a win.

So that was my new normal: the chubby cat always watching, always scheming. Even the taste of water plants faded away. One night, the beast came strutting toward me again. I froze and played dead, but that only made it more interested. I watched in terror as it lifted a furry paw, flashing me what I swear was a mischievous grin.

And just like that—bam! The cat knocked over the tank.

I spun through the air, convinced this was the end. Images flashed through my mind: my ditch buddies, the market fish, never even getting to really enjoy those abs… Goodbye, cruel world.

But as I fell, something strange happened. My vision shifted higher and higher. Crash—the tank shattered beneath my feet.

Wait. My feet?

I stared, dumbfounded, then glanced up. The full moon blazed outside the window. Suddenly, it all clicked: there’s an old legend that when a goldfish sees a full moon, there’s a tiny chance it’ll turn human. I guess I hit the jackpot.

Mr. Handsome burst into the room, saw the shattered glass, and his face went through a whole slideshow of emotions. His eyes locked on me—awkward, because, well… There I was: stark naked, kneeling on the floor. Total deer-in-headlights moment.

The whole room froze. Just me, the stunned hot guy, and one dumbfounded cat.

“Meow!” The cat yowled, shattering the weird tension. I’m pretty sure it was cursing in feline: “What the—wasn’t there just a fish here? Am I seeing a ghost?!”

Mr. Handsome finally snapped out of it, bolted to the bathroom like lightning, and came rushing back with a towel to cover me, frantically fumbling with his phone for backup.

“Sis! Emergency!”

And that’s how my goldfish story really began.

I sat there on the couch, caught in a seriously awkward staring contest with Mr. Handsome and some stunning girl who’d just barged into our chaos.

Four eyes on two, the tension so thick you could hear a pin drop.

“So she really was a goldfish,” the girl murmured, looking me up and down like I was a rare Pokémon.

“Holy crap!” she suddenly gasped, her excitement barely contained.

Then she tried to hold in her laughter but failed, her eyes shining with mischief. “Hey, any chance there’s a hunky goldfish out there who can turn into a human, too?”

“Enough, sis!” Mr. Handsome growled, face turning stormy.

The silence was epic.

“So what are we supposed to do now?” she pressed, furrowing her brows.

“How should I know? Why do you think I called you over?” He raked a hand through his hair, exasperated.

She leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “Look, you don’t have a girlfriend anyway. Free wife delivery, what’s there to complain about? Forget all those alpha-male tropes, forced romance and whatnot—this little goldfish has already fallen for you. It’s sweet as can be!”

“Seriously, sis!” he practically growled, fists clenched like he was ready to fight her off.

“How about we get her registered with the family?” she suggested, waving her hand.

“Our family registry?” he repeated, baffled.

“No way!” she snapped, slapping the table.

“What’s your deal?” he asked, looking at her like she was speaking Martian.

She softened, “Mom and Dad would never agree. Better put her under one of your brothers’ names, way less hassle.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, snatching up his phone.

“Hey, wanna adopt a little sister?” he said into the phone.

“…Where’d you swipe her from?” came the deadpan reply.

An hour later, I found myself staring at three people in silence, the tension off the charts.

The jokester in the group looked me over like he’d just discovered buried treasure. “Whoa! Any more where that came from?” he asked, squinting playfully.

“Get lost,” Mr. Handsome snapped, glaring at him.

But the paperwork went through. Now, according to official records, I was “the little sister.”

Outside the police station, the jokester tried to drag me away by the arm.

Mr. Handsome quickly grabbed my shirt, refusing to let go.

“Dude, what are you doing?” he demanded.

“She’s my little sister now, right? She should come home with me,” the jokester grinned.

Mr. Handsome’s face darkened, and he looked like he was about to throw hands.

“You really think it’s a good look for a grown man to take a young girl home? She should stay with my sister.”

Sensing the vibe getting weird, I clung to Mr. Handsome’s sleeve, my voice trembling as I whispered, “I don’t want to go!”

My eyes stung and filled with tears. “I want to stay with you.”

I mean, come on, I hadn’t even had the chance to poke those abs yet—no way was I leaving early.

The girl who’d been laughing suddenly looked worried.

“She doesn’t think you’re her mom, does she?”

After all that chaos, it was finally decided: I got to go home with Mr. Handsome.

On the way back, the girl wouldn’t stop running her mouth: “He’s not your mom, but hey, maybe he’ll let you be one.”

I was completely lost. He didn’t exactly look like my kid—I was still just a clueless little goldfish, after all.

Mr. Handsome, totally worn out from her endless chatter, sent her packing the second we got home.

Back at the apartment, I curled up on the couch and resumed my ongoing stare-down with the fat cat. This time, I was determined to win.

“Ha!” I lunged at him out of nowhere.

“Mrow!” The chubby cat nearly flipped itself off the couch in terror.

I burst out laughing—finally, the tables had turned.

My reign had officially begun.

I clapped my hands in delight. “Come on, chubby, don’t run!”

Mr. Handsome wandered over, totally chill, and said, “His name’s Meatball.”

He pointed to the spare room next to his bedroom. “That’ll be your room from now on.”

He shot me a quick glance, hesitated, then cleared his throat. “So…do you want fish food or actual food?”

He set a massive bowl of fish food on the table and sat down with his own rice bowl, digging in like he hadn’t eaten in days.

Curious, I scooped up a big spoonful of fish food and popped it in my mouth—expecting fireworks.

The only fireworks were the ones in my brain from how nasty it tasted. I almost jumped out of my seat.

Ugh! Freedom to eat fish food was overrated.

Seeing my face, Mr. Handsome burst out laughing and ended up ordering a pile of takeout for me.

And oh my god, human food was heaven. My cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk as I stuffed my face, actually getting misty-eyed from how good it was.

Next morning, sunlight streamed through the window, warm and gentle, the breeze brushing against my cheek. In that moment, I thought—yeah, even if I stayed a fish my whole life, it would’ve been worth it.

Mr. Handsome left for work, making sure I had snacks, TV, and one very round, very squishy cat for company. Oh, and some chunky phone I had no idea how to use. Whatever, TV was enough to keep me alive all day.

When he got home that night, he was wearing an apron, looking every bit the domestic god.

“What do you want for dinner?” he asked.

I looked up at him, all dramatic. “A feast isn’t what I want. What I really want… I’ve never been able to get.” I flashed him a little wink.

He just stared at me, totally thrown off.

“How about some bitter melon soup?”

I grinned. “After so long in the palace, even bitter melon tastes sweet.”

He glanced at the TV, saw I was bingeing a palace drama, and immediately flipped it over to the kids’ channel in protest.

After dinner, he went to shower. I was bored out of my mind, half-watching cartoons, half-gazing at the bathroom door.

Suddenly, a show came on with kids singing, “Let’s take a bath together!” That was my cue. I slapped my knee and burst into the bathroom like a tornado.

He shrieked, yanked the towel up to cover himself, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.

His face went tomato red as he carried me out, just as the TV sang about bath time. He slammed the door shut behind me. “Turn off the TV—now!”

He came out wrapped up like a burrito and yanked me onto the couch for a proper lecture, twisting my ear and scolding me like a little kid.

And all I could think was—how did I miss my shot to poke those abs? When I was a fish, he was naked in front of me every day. Now? He’s wrapped tighter than a monk.

We both let out a long, helpless sigh.

Honestly, I started to miss my fish days. Back then, he was a walking heartthrob. Now, he’s basically a saint.

Abs? Yeah, those had become strictly off-limits territory.

I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling, trying not to sulk.

A few days later, Mr. Handsome announced he was taking me out for a walk. I hadn’t really left the house since I turned human, so when Mid-Autumn Festival rolled around and the streets were packed with lights and music, I could hardly contain my excitement.

I hurried off to get changed, but as soon as I came out, he turned beet red and shooed me right back into the bedroom.

Turns out, I’d forgotten to put on a bra.

To me, underwear was a total mystery. I tossed it to him with a pout, hoping he’d help, but his ears burned bright red and he bolted from the room. A few minutes later, he returned, thrusting his phone at me with a YouTube tutorial, clearly mortified. I was left to figure it out on my own.

After that chaotic struggle, we finally managed to get out the door.

The streets were a sea of neon and people, and before long, we met up with the class clown, the pretty girl, and her new boyfriend. The clown bragged about how, after our last run-in, he’d gone back to the market and bought every goldfish that sleazy vendor had. He was dreaming of a house full of “sisters,” but by the next morning, every single fish had floated belly-up. He was heartbroken and dragged us out hoping for a little comfort.

Hand in hand, I wandered through food stalls with Mr. Handsome, discovering a whole universe of human snacks. I felt like I could drown in deliciousness.

Eventually, we ended up at a shooting game booth. All the girls around couldn’t take their eyes off him. One bold girl came right up, flashing a QR code for WeChat. I was stunned—so that’s how it’s done here?

Without missing a beat, I slapped down two hundred yuan in his hand.

“I’m buying you tonight!” I declared at the top of my lungs, shocking everyone in earshot.

Mr. Handsome’s face went dark as thunder. He grabbed my arm and hustled me away.

“They just wanted my WeChat, not to actually buy me!”

I blinked, baffled. “So why does she want your WeChat, then?”

He scratched his head, a little embarrassed. “Uh… She thinks I’m cute, wanted to get to know me.”

I thought about it, then handed him my phone. “Well, would you give your WeChat to me?”

He paused for a second, then burst out laughing. “Yeah. Sure.”

Pretty Girl called us over to watch fireworks by the river. Calling it “by the river” was generous—it was wall-to-wall crowds; I never even saw the water.

Boom—

One firework after another exploded in the sky. I watched in awe, realizing it wasn’t just fireworks; it was some kind of sacred festival ritual for humans. Couples everywhere were kissing under the shimmering bursts.

Wait, was that what you’re supposed to do? I wasn’t about to miss out.

I sneaked a glance at Mr. Handsome, who was staring up at the sky. Quick as a flash, I tugged his head down and planted a kiss on him.

For a split second, the world went silent—nothing but the pounding of my heart and his, beating in perfect sync. I couldn’t even tell which heartbeat was mine.

He didn’t say a word. Instead, he scooped me up and hauled me home.

On the way, Pretty Girl leaned over and whispered, “Yeah, that wasn’t just a festival ritual. That’s something only couples do.”

That’s when it hit me—maybe I’d gone a little overboard. But honestly? It felt pretty great.

Mr. Handsome was quiet the whole way home. The moment we walked in, he flopped on the sofa, fiddling with his phone. Out of nowhere, his expression darkened and he ducked into the bathroom.

Guilt gnawed at me. I couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at his phone. Turns out, he was on Zhihu posting,

“My pet goldfish turned into a girl, doesn’t know a thing, and today she kissed me. Does this mean she likes me?”

Scrolling down, the replies were hilarious:

“Bro, are you dreaming?”

“Dude, do you need antibiotics or something?”

“A goldfish? What is this, Ponyo?”

I bit back my laughter, only to lock eyes with Meatball the cat—game on.

“Meow!”

Meatball tore off toward the bathroom. Oh no, was he about to tattle?

I darted after him, ready to grab him, but just as my hand reached out, Mr. Handsome caught me red-handed—literally one hand holding his phone, the other grabbing the cat.

He stood in the doorway, looking all noble and dignified, and let out a little “Hmph.”

Finally, he cracked a smile.

In the end, he put me and the cat in separate rooms to “reflect.” I understood why I was in trouble, but what did the cat ever do? Maybe this was some kind of cosmic karma.

Meatball looked so offended getting dragged off that I couldn’t stop laughing. I was losing my mind.

Later, Mr. Handsome announced we were going to try an escape room. For days, he’d been acting all mysterious, sneaking around behind my back. I had a hunch—was he hoping to dump this clueless goldfish and see if I could find my way out?

Seriously, trying to ditch me after bringing me home? Typical man!

When we got there, I clutched my trusty little notebook, smirking with confidence. No way was I letting them get rid of me that easily. I’d watched three days’ worth of escape room shows, ready to show off.

But fate had other plans—the staff confiscated my notebook at the door.

Who knew a dinky notebook would count as contraband?

Humans, honestly, are a whole different kind of crazy.

But hey, when you’re in someone else’s world, you just play by their rules—so I handed over my precious notebook without a fight.

A cheerful staff girl led us inside. Besides me and Mr. Handsome, there were four strangers on our team. The place was pitch black—couldn’t even see my own hand in front of my face.

Right as the game was about to start, Mr. Handsome leaned down and whispered in my ear, “If you get scared later, you can always… you know, come to me… or, uh…”

Wait, what was he trying to say? I blinked, completely confused, but he clammed up, suddenly shy as a schoolgirl.

What happened to the tough guy act? My brain felt like it was short-circuiting.

But honestly, the escape room was a blast—way more thrilling than anything I ever did as a fish in a muddy ditch. The whole place was filled with screams and fake ghosts. Mr. Handsome and I searched for clues together, creeping around the corners.

All of a sudden, a scary mask shot out from the darkness.

“AHHHHHHH!”

An ear-splitting scream erupted right beside me. Wait a second—that voice crack didn’t sound right…

Turned out it was Mr. Handsome who screamed louder than any of the girls.

He practically jumped into my arms, scaring even the ghosts. The four strangers and the staff on the walkie-talkie all froze, totally stunned.

For a few seconds, nobody moved. Finally, one of the “ghosts” couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing.

Mr. Handsome scrambled away, trying to act cool but looking super guilty. To help him save face, I let out a few screams of my own.

“AHHH! Oh wow, that’s terrifying!”

That got everyone laughing again.

Mr. Handsome’s face was so dark he looked like a thundercloud. The whole thing was an epic mess.

On the way home, he barely spoke a word. The tension in the car could’ve frozen the air. I mean, he was always playing the cold, mysterious guy, but who knew he’d have a total meltdown and scream like a banshee?

I gave him a sympathetic nod, which only made him look even more annoyed.

Once we got home, he went straight to his study and slammed the door.

Was he mad because he embarrassed himself, or was it because he hadn’t managed to ditch me in that haunted house?

Either way, I was suddenly on high alert.

I crept over and cracked open the study door. He was sitting there, face all serious, reading a book.

“What are you reading?” I asked, sneaking up behind him.

He jumped in shock, dropping the book. I barely caught the cover: “How to Conquer…”

Before I could read more, he snatched the book up and clamped it shut.

Conquer? Conquer what, exactly?

My face was full of question marks as he pushed me out of the room, muttering under his breath, “Conquer my ass!”

Guess the whole ordeal hit him pretty hard—dude was actually googling how to conquer his own fears.

But over the next few days, something changed. Mr. Handsome finally went back to walking around shirtless after his showers. The sight nearly raised my blood pressure to dangerous levels. Even November’s chill couldn’t keep his abs under wraps. What a guy.

Naturally, I had to steal a few extra glances—wouldn’t you?

What I didn’t expect was for my nose not to bleed—but for something else to start bleeding.

I rushed over to him, clutching my pants, on the verge of tears.

“Am I dying? Is this it for me?” I wailed, pointing to a big red stain on my butt.

He checked, then gave me a calm, doctorly look. “Relax. It’s just your period. Totally normal.”

He pulled out a whole stash of pads from the drawer, shoving them into my hands. “Here—night, day, all kinds. Figure it out, and if you get stuck, come ask me.”

He was cool as a cucumber, like he did this every day.

“How do you know all this?” I asked, in complete awe.

He rolled his eyes, pushed me toward the bathroom, and left me to it.

Turns out, I had no clue what I was doing. I slunk back out, only to overhear him on the phone.

“Sis, finally! Can you walk me through how to use these pads and, uh, what else I should know?”

I stifled a laugh, but he caught me.

“Uh… I’m just, uh… reviewing,” he said defensively.

I gave him a big thumbs up. “Fishy believes in you!”

And that’s how we ended up sitting on the floor, watching educational videos together.

By sunrise, he was off to work again. I still couldn’t wrap my head around why humans spend all day working, while I could lounge around like a happy fish.

After binge-watching three movies, I decided to pay him a visit at work.

Wearing my slippers, I hopped on the bus and zoned out—until a random cute guy approached me with his phone.

Why did this feel so familiar?

“Sorry, not interested,” I said, shutting him down quickly. Sure, he was good-looking, but not my type.

“No, wait—”

“Seriously, I’m not into you!” Why wouldn’t this guy give up?

“You’re standing on my plane ticket!” he blurted, panicked.

“Oh—sorry, sorry!”

Everyone on the bus stared as I turned beet red and hurried off at the next stop.

Clearly, I still had a lot to learn about human survival skills.

Thanks to a kind stranger’s directions, I finally found Mr. Handsome’s office.

Wow, the place was huge.

I peeked inside.

“Hi there, miss, do you need legal advice?” the receptionist asked with a dazzling smile.

“Uh, no, I’m here for someone,” I answered, suddenly feeling a pang of jealousy. Did he work with gorgeous people like this every day?

“And who are you here for? Come on in, take a seat,” she said warmly, waving me into the reception area.

“I’m looking for…”

Oh no. I’d lived with him for three months and still didn’t know his real name.

The receptionist nearly burst out laughing and told me to sit tight.

“I’ll go ask if anyone’s lost a little cutie.”

Not long after, Mr. Handsome came running in, out of breath.

“How did you know it was me?” I asked, barely able to contain my excitement.

He waved his phone at me with a sly grin.

The front desk girl had sent a message to the company group chat: “@Everyone, did anyone lose a little goldfish?”

“You’re the only one who wanders around in goldfish pajamas,” he said, shooting me a look full of mock annoyance.

“Why didn’t you just give them my name?” he pressed, a bit suspicious.

“….”

“Little Goldfish, don’t tell me… you actually don’t know my real name?”

His face dropped, and he turned away, telling me to get myself home.

Fuming, I stormed out and slammed the door behind me.

But once I hit the street, the darkness and unfamiliar roads made me double back—

And it was definitely not because I got lost!

Zhihu: What do you do if you’ve ticked off your handsome guy?

— Apologize, and explain yourself.

— Turn on the charm and sweet-talk him.

— Go in for a bold kiss!

Online strangers really are life coaches—I saw the light.

I hid in the bushes outside his office, waiting for him to get off work. Before long, he showed up with his bag, and a girl trailing behind.

“Can you take me home?” she asked in a soft, sugary voice.

“I twisted my ankle… Can’t find a taxi…” She looked up at him with bright, hopeful eyes and fiddled with her hair.

“Um… yeah, get in,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

The girl’s face lit up and she went straight for the passenger seat.

“Wait a sec!” he tried to stop her.

“Hold on!” I dashed out, squeezed past her, and plopped down right in the front seat.

TV dramas say the person you love most should always get shotgun—so that’s where I sat.

“Hmph.”

I glared at her, all possessive.

“You’re still here?” he asked, a little surprised.

“I was waiting for you to get off work.” I buckled my seatbelt obediently.

“Let’s go, I’m starving.”

“Oh, by the way, who’s this?” I asked, pretending to notice the other girl for the first time.

“It’s dark, the roads aren’t safe—maybe you should let us drive you home!” I offered her my sweetest smile.

“Uh… and you are?” The girl stared at him, totally confused.

He coughed into his fist, trying not to laugh. “Whatever she says, just go with it.”

The drive was quiet, but I was a ball of nerves.

“I messed up,” I said softly, staring down at my lap.

“What did you do wrong?” he asked, eyes fixed on the road, face expressionless.

But I had a feeling he was actually in a pretty good mood.

“I… I shouldn’t have stayed at your place for so long without even knowing your name,” I admitted, genuinely apologetic.

“So, how are you going to make it up to me?”

Wait, what? There were consequences?

My mind went blank. What was I supposed to do?

“Uh… I… uh…”

“Um…” The girl in the backseat finally piped up, “My stop was a while ago…”

He left me to figure it out for myself.

That night, I mulled it over while soaking in the tub, wasting my precious bath time on brainstorming.

Maybe I should just do what the internet said and kiss him?

Yeah, that could work!

After my bath, I darted back to my room—only to catch him snooping through my drawers.

I tiptoed closer.

“Where’d her ID card go…” he muttered, searching.

“Here, Fishy’s got your ID card!” I said cheerfully, handing it to him.

“Oh, thanks—wait…” He hesitated.

I gave him a sly look. “Why do you need my ID? Don’t tell me you forgot my name, too?”

He stared at me, completely blank.

“…

“Okay, okay, I messed up.”

And just like that, the slate was clean.

One weekend, while lazing on the couch, a question popped into my head that I’d always wanted to ask.

“Tell me—why did you even go to the market to buy a goldfish?”

Given his style and tastes, he really didn’t seem like the type to bargain-hunt for fish.

He glanced at me, his expression turning a little weird.

My eyes sparkled—he had to have a story.

“Spill it!” I raised both hands around my neck, pretending to threaten him.

“…Why are you choking yourself?” He looked totally confused.

“Are you saying you don’t care about me anymore?” I gave him my most heartbroken look.

He finally caved.

“I’d bought a few goldfish from the pet store, but none of them survived. After going through several, I started wondering if maybe the fancy names were bad luck. The ones from the market were cheaper—I figured maybe they were tougher, you know?”

Before I could reply, his phone rang.

He answered, then immediately shoved me into his room.

“My parents are coming over—go hide, quick!”

He shut the door tight.

The doorbell rang right after.

“Dad, Mom.”

I hid behind the door, eavesdropping.

“We were just passing by, thought we’d check in on you,” his dad said, voice low.

“How’s work going lately?”

“It’s fine…”

“I’ve won a few tough cases.”

“I know about those deals, but don’t get too cocky,” his dad replied, after a pause.

“Your cousin went straight into Kaiyi after graduation…”

“Got it.”

A woman’s voice chimed in.

“Enough. We’re heading overseas for work soon, won’t be here for New Year’s. Spend it with your sister, and let us know if you need anything.”

“…Okay.”

Mom and Dad didn’t stay long before heading out.

Mr. Handsome sat quietly on the sofa for ages.

“I know they love me,” he finally murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s just… they’ve never once acknowledged how hard I try.”

I’d never learned how to comfort anyone, so I sat there for ages, searching for the right words.

“You’re really amazing,” I managed at last.

It sounded simple, but I could tell that’s exactly what he needed to hear.

He stared at me for a long time.

Then, out of nowhere, he broke into a real, genuine smile. “I get it now!”

Pretty Girl called, asking us to go stock up on groceries for the New Year.

This was my first time experiencing a human New Year, and honestly, even in the goldfish world, we had our own ways of celebrating. Back in the little stream, every year we’d tear up floating plastic bags and drape them around our necks, or bend tiny twigs into little doorways—pretending to leap the Dragon Gate, dreaming big for a bunch of fish.

Not that I ever actually leaped over it. I was always a little too round and would get stuck halfway, flailing around while the others cheered me on.

I used to chat about all this with the other fish at the market.

“What do you carp do for the holidays?” I flopped around in my bag, asking.

The carp would roll their eyes: “Us? We draw straws to see who gets picked as the lucky koi for the hotpot. The rest of us just fantasize about escaping this world.”

At the supermarket, I raced the shopping cart through the aisles like a pro, drifting around corners, pretending I was an action movie star.

Didn’t make it far before I wiped out in spectacular fashion.

Bet you’re laughing right now—waiting for me to make a fool of myself? Well, you got your wish.

Mr. Handsome hurried over, scooping me up from beneath the cart.

“Does it hurt?”

“I told you to slow down. Without anything heavy in the cart, it’s easy to flip over, but would you listen? Nope. Now you’ve gone and hurt yourself,” he scolded, launching into a full-on lecture.

“When did he get so naggy?” Pretty Girl leaned in, whispering to me.

I just grinned and didn’t answer, making a beeline for the instant noodles section—because honestly, instant noodles are the peak of human invention.

“More instant noodles?!” Mr. Handsome was back at it again, nag-mode activated.

“You know they’re not good for you if you eat too many.”

I waved him off. “I’m only getting a few packs of pickled cabbage flavor.”

He eyed my haul with suspicion. “How come you love pickled cabbage noodles so much?”

I shrugged. “I can’t explain it. I guess the taste reminds me of home.”

After loading up on New Year’s groceries, we headed straight to Pretty Girl’s place.

As soon as I stepped inside and saw her swanky apartment, I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

Why is it all the pretty girls get to be independent and rich, while all I ever do is eat? Even if I started off as a fish, I still have some pride, you know?

“Don’t worry, I’ve got more money than I can spend,” Mr. Handsome said, giving me a cool look—right before Pretty Girl smacked him with a spatula.

The hot pot was bubbling away, sending clouds of spicy steam through the room.

We all clinked glasses, laughter echoing off the walls, the whole place filled with joy.

Outside, fireworks lit up the night, and a few drinks in, everyone started letting down their guard and sharing their real feelings.

“My parents are always so busy—I’ve hardly ever spent New Year’s with them,” Pretty Girl said, swirling her wine and smiling dreamily. “I’m really happy to be with you guys this year, Little Goldfish.”

She looked at me, her eyes gentle, and something soft and warm bloomed inside me, too.

“I hope I can bring a boyfriend home next year!” she declared, running out to the balcony to make her wish.

I was about to yell it out with her when Mr. Handsome pulled me back.

“What’s up? You planning to bring a man home too?” he teased, holding me close.

“Why not? Can’t I bring you home?” I laughed, letting him pin me to the floor as we both burst out giggling.

He stared at me for what felt like forever.

Then, in the sweetest, most serious voice, he asked, “Really?”

In that moment, his smile was dazzling—like his eyes were lit up with stars.

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow,” I whispered, cheeks burning, feeling light as air.

Fireworks kept exploding outside, their booms drowning everything else out.

I couldn’t even hear what he was saying anymore—could only watch his lips move and fall a little more for him.

And honestly, I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, but I felt totally drunk.

Kiss him—do it!

That was all I could think, so I went for it.

I love the kind of affection that builds, slow and steady, until it’s as natural as breathing.

“Didn’t you say last time you kissed me because you thought it was a Mid-Autumn tradition? What about now?” Mr. Handsome asked, holding my hand, his eyes full of stars and galaxies.

“Because…” I could barely get the words out, cheeks on fire, “Because I like you.”

“Huh? Like who? I didn’t quite catch that.” He grinned, eyes narrowing in mischief.

How can anyone be this shameless?

I huffed, “Fine, forget it!”

He only laughed harder.

Later, I took him to visit my old home.

The little stream still carried the familiar scent of childhood.

I found an ancient goldfish, cupping her gently in my hands.

“Go on, call her Mom!” I nudged him, half-joking.

He looked seriously conflicted—never thought he’d end up calling a fish “Mom.”

After a long struggle, he finally whispered, “…Mom.”

“Gotcha! She’s not really my mom,” I teased.

“…

“So, where is your mom?” He quickly stole a kiss.

“My mom?” I thought for a bit. “She was probably old, maybe she’s already gone.”

The truth is, my memories of her are hazy.

But I wanted to come back, to show her that her daughter is truly happy now.

“Wanna check out the aquarium?”

Early the next morning, Mr. Handsome wrapped his arms around me on the couch and asked quietly.

“What’s an aquarium?” I snuggled into his arms, curiosity bubbling in my voice.

“It’s filled with sea creatures—and some of your goldfish relatives,” he said, absentmindedly tracing lazy circles on my fingers.

I nodded. “Let’s go, then.”

The next day, we ended up standing outside the aquarium, staring at the locked doors.

I shot him an icy look, my eyes practically frozen over.

“Uh… my bad. Totally slipped my mind they close today.” He scratched his head, embarrassed, then quickly took my hand. “Let’s hit the amusement park instead!”

We headed over, only to find ourselves staring at a sea of people so dense you could barely see the pavement.

For a second, we both hesitated. But I shrugged and grinned, “Hey, we’re already here—let’s dive in!”

We spent the whole day—from sunrise to sundown—racing around the park. If I had to sum up the experience in three words: absolutely worn out.

Roller coasters? Endless lines.

Swing rides? More lines.

Log flume? You guessed it—lines.

Even the carousel meant waiting forever.

There was no escaping the crowds.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as we sat on the Ferris wheel, guilt written all over his face. “There were way too many people today. Didn’t turn out the way I hoped.”

“It really was exhausting,” I admitted, but I couldn’t stop smiling. “But honestly, as long as you’re with me, even the worst day feels sweet.”

On the roller coaster, you squeezed my hand as we screamed together.

On the giant swing, you were scared but never let go of me.

When the rapids splashed us, we laughed till we couldn’t breathe, soaked through and loving every second.

You have this magic, turning every bit of boredom and fatigue into pure happiness.

“Little Goldfish…” he murmured, his ears turning a little pink.

I narrowed my eyes at him, half teasing. “Alright, spill it. What’s really up with you today?”

“What do you mean?” He fidgeted with his hands, looking nervous.

“You’ve been way too attentive—asking if I’m hungry or thirsty every three minutes, even letting me splurge on snacks. C’mon, be honest. Something’s up.”

I fixed him with a stubborn glare.

He fumbled for words, his voice growing softer. “It’s… Well, last night I had this dream where you turned back into a fish and forgot all about me. I guess I wanted to treat you better today… just in case. Maybe if I was extra nice, you’d stay.”

There was a hint of vulnerability in his voice that made my heart ache.

“Silly,” I whispered, smiling at him. “Why not just ask me how I feel?”

He looked away. “How am I supposed to know, when even you can’t put it into words?”

“Relax. I’m not turning back into a fish.” I squeezed his hand. “Becoming human was my dream all along.”

When the Ferris wheel reached its highest point, he suddenly pulled me close, wrapping me up in his warmth.

For a second, it felt like I’d fallen into the gentlest sea.

“They say if a couple kisses at the very top of the Ferris wheel, they’ll always stay together,” he whispered.

“Little Goldfish, I want to be with you for a long, long time.”