As a father, the Sun God Sword would cleave through all enemies for you, even if they were gods.
Li Ao dumbly tilted his head up, then suddenly asked, “Is this a deal? ‘Cause I gave you yarn, so you’re protecting me?”
“Of course not,” Isiris said. “You can make whatever deals you want with anyone else, but with me, you don’t need to. Even without the yarn, even if you never do anything else from now on, you will still have my protection for the rest of my life.”
“Why?”
“Because I am your father.”
“‘Cause I’m your father!” The little cat waved his toothbrush, eyes sparkling as he wiggled his butt. “That’s exactly what Xixi said! Li Ao has a daddy now! Daddy said he’ll always stay with me!”
“…” The robot watched his smug little expression and couldn’t bear to look straight at it, urging him on: “Hurry up and brush your teeth!”
“La la la—I’m a little kitty cat, meow meow~ meow meow~~” He sang while continuing to wiggle, and the robot watched wide-eyed as he missed a step and tumbled right off the bathroom counter.
Fierce Cat took a tumble and knew embarrassment now. He settled down, sitting properly next to his little dog and continuing to brush his teeth.
“…” So childish. But isn’t this what cubs are like?
In this extremely short time together, that man had given the little cat such a strong sense of security that he could finally act like a real cub, starting to fool around and play.
“Li Ao.” The robot wrung out a towel. “Come wash your face.”
Li Ao kept his mouth closed, humming his tune—this little look of his really deserved a spanking. The robot’s electronic voice remained flat: “You’ve got two classes this morning, and two more this afternoon.”
The little cat’s sky cracked open. “Why? Mmph—” The rest of his words were muffled by the towel wiping his face.
Why the extra two classes!
The robot whispered like a devil: “Because you need to catch up. After spring break here is over, you’re going to kindergarten.”
Delphi’s kindergartens and elementary schools rotated by season: spring break, summer classes, autumn break, winter classes depending on the weather. Of course, as Delphi citizens, the admiration for the strong was ingrained in their genes—even on break, many older kids still went to training schools, rotating their studies like this.
So after this spring, Li Ao was finally starting school.
Fierce Cat’s sky completely collapsed. “But, but if I go to school, what about Aiai’ang’ang?” His tomatoes! His little fish! What would happen to them!
The robot picked him up and set him down on the floor. “Go ask your Xixi.”
Li Ao didn’t even bother pulling his little dog along. He bolted out of the room in a panic, rushing next door. He already knew Xixi lived right next door.
“Xixi—” The little cat slipped through the new small door under the main gate and, upon seeing a pair of feet, pounced over. “Xi—Huh… who are you?”
Paimon chuckled softly back at him. “I’m Paimon.”
“Leo.” Isiris sat with his legs crossed, propping one cheek with his hand while tapping his knee with the other. “Come here.”
The little cat let go of Paimon’s pant leg and toddled over unsteadily, climbing onto Isiris’s lap. “Xixi.” Remembering why he’d come, he asked, “Why does Li Ao have to go to school?”
“There are lots of other cubs in kindergarten. You can lead them in play.” Isiris used “lead” instead of “play with,” because in his heart, his child was destined to be followed.
“But…” The little cat was a bit scared of other kids—he’d often had bigger ones snatch his bottle and food before—but Fierce Cat had pride, and Fierce Cat wouldn’t say it. So Fierce Cat lifted his head, blue eyes watery, and declared righteously: “But if I go to school, no one will take care of Aiai’ang’ang.”
“Robot…” The golden-haired emperor’s mouth was covered by a cat paw—the little cat had made him urgently retract his words. “Machine’s a big lazy bum! It can’t take care of them!”
The nanny robot bustling about inside and out tidying the house flashed a red light in its electronic eyes. “…Why did my program lag? Is it that short-legged cat cursing me?”
It absolutely was.
Isiris still didn’t understand why the little one was so resistant to kindergarten and set the topic aside for now. “Alright, if you don’t want to go, then you won’t.”
The little cat let out a breath of relief and grew a bit shy. He stepped twice on the man’s thigh, then realized there were others in the room and quickly stopped, looking over curiously.
“You’re really pretty,” he praised. “Your hair is so nice.”
Paimon curved his eyes. “Thank you, Highness.”
“You may withdraw first,” Isiris said. “Someone else will contact you about the rest.”
“Alright, then I’ll leave it to you.” Paimon wasn’t from Delphi and didn’t bow, but he waved to the little cat: “See you, Li Ao.”
Once he left, Isiris was about to take the little cat for breakfast when someone else came to pay respects.
The maid opened the door, and a little white lion appeared before them.
“Uncle.” He bowed his head to Isiris.
“Feeling better?”
Ryan nodded, his amber eyes turning to the little cat. “Leo, thank you.”
Li Ao blinked, then suddenly stuck out his paw. “Five bucks.”
Saying thanks didn’t count; he wanted five bucks.
Ryan actually lowered his head and took money from the small sachet at his neck.
The little cat jumped down and pattered over, crouching and holding out his hand.
The little white lion was already sixteen, yet here he was, counting out single bills one by one…
“1, 2, 3, 4… 10.” The little lion said, “Here, ten bucks.”
Though he was the empire’s little highness, he’d never saved any pocket money over these years. He didn’t need it or have a use for it. These ten bucks were ones he’d traded glass beads for from a maid that morning.
The blue cat eyes stared blankly, not quite understanding why he gave extra.
Ryan thought he found it too little and anxiously stood up. “I-I’ll give you all my future pocket money too! Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you!” His body had only just recovered, so speaking quickly made him cough.
Li Ao quietly watched him, then pawed over the five bills with his little claw. “These are enough.”
Fierce Cat kept his word—five meant five, not one more.
The little white lion was at a loss. Though he was sixteen, due to his frailty, he’d never had playmates. He didn’t know how to interact with little kids.
“Ryan.” The golden-haired emperor spoke. “Go back first. I’m taking the little cat to eat.”
Ryan pursed his lips. “Yes.” He turned and left the room.
In the time that followed, Li Ao kept spotting that little white lion in unexpected corners.
“Li Ao.” The little monster narrowed his eyes, glaring fiercely at the distance.
The little cat scratched his head, not understanding what the little lion was doing. As a straightforward little guy, he grabbed Xun and ran over. “Little lion, why are you following me?”
He was clearly ten years older, yet called little lion… The frail white lion lowered his head, white lashes fluttering. “I don’t know either…”
He couldn’t articulate this feeling in his heart.
All along, his only reason for living had seemed to be survival itself.
Not for himself, but so his mother wouldn’t be sad, so he wouldn’t disappoint her expectations. He knew she’d poured everything into his frail body, and all he could do was hold on with one breath, not letting her efforts go to waste.
But he was just too fragile—a body that toppled in the wind, a stomach that vomited blood from the wrong food, not even able to approach winter snow. The world outside was within reach, yet like a chasm. He’d once tried to step beyond that threshold, even just a little, only to get a fever that nearly took his life.
He lay in bed unconscious for three days, tightly clutching his mother’s cold fingers, vaguely hearing her trembling sobs. He’d never seen her so terrified—her silver hair, soft as moonlight, had lost its luster at some point, as if even her vitality was being drained away with his weakness.
After that, he no longer tried to approach the outside world—not even getting close to the window, holding his breath with caution. His world was confined under one roof: small, gloomy.
Before this little cat appeared, he’d always thought life was this colorless.
But he showed up, so vibrant and happy. He was different from everyone else, awaited by all.
What was scarier was that even he himself, deep down, had been awaiting this little cat’s arrival.
Unlike others’ sincere anticipation, he just hoped this little cat could save him.
He humbly pinned his hopes for life on a cub less than six years old, so when Mom said she was going to find the little kitten, he actually felt a bit secretly delighted.
But if that hope was shattered, it didn’t matter—disappointment was the main hue of his life anyway.
Last night, he had asked the Magic 8-Ball three questions.
The first: Is death liberation? The Magic Ball said: Yes.
The second: If I die, can Mother be liberated too? The Magic Ball said: Very likely.
The third… Is my existence a mistake?
He didn’t see the Magic Ball’s reply, but he heard a voice that said, “No, it’s not.”
It wasn’t the same question, but he said it—he said no.
Then he appeared, saving him just like that.
He had humbly pinned his hopes on a six-year-old cub before, but this cub had truly, truly lived up to his expectations.
Just like a god.
He hated that kitten so much. Its existence made him seem so insignificant, and its power made his struggles look so laughable. Why… why did such a wonderful little kitten exist? Even when he said he didn’t like him, he still didn’t resent him.
It was too much—how could he be so noble?
Large teardrops rolled from Ryan’s eyes. Choking with sobs, he said to the little kitten, who looked panicked and wanted to comfort him, “I don’t like you. I don’t like you at all.”
But how could anyone dislike the sun of salvation?
