A tree of floral snow swayed in the wind.
Ryan stood beneath the magnolia tree, his slender, fragile jaw slightly lifted as he gazed at the scattering petals.
“Your Highness.” The maid found him, her smile gentle. “You rose quite early today. Breakfast has been prepared in the kitchen. Shall we head there first?”
His long lashes trembled lightly. He withdrew his gaze from the drifting petals, lowered his eyelids, and moved with light, unhurried steps. His voice was flat: “Let’s go.”
With his mother absent and no one to dine with, Ryan gripped his knife and gently sliced. He watched as the runny yolk slowly oozed out.
“What are you thinking about?” A fair, refined hand rested on Ryan’s white hair. Paimon nodded and smiled at the maid, taking a seat in the chair she pulled out. “You look so absent-minded.”
“Teacher.” Ryan wasn’t one for smiles. At times, his clear and aloof demeanor somewhat resembled his uncle, the Empire’s Monarch Isiris.
However, Isiris’s coldness stemmed from the arrogance of a sovereign overlooking all beings. The young white lion before them, though—his chill arose not from the detachment of power, but from the loneliness of an unlooked-for birth.
Yet no matter what, there was always a trace of the Regalis shadow on him. That little kitten, on the other hand, was cheerful and lively—completely unlike these lions.
“His Highness Li Ao…” Paimon curved his eyes and took a sip of tea. The rising steam made his already refined brows and eyes appear even more hazy and soft. “No idea where he’s gone off to?”
Li Ao’s group had left in a hurry. The little lion cub had gone out early to pick mountain flowers to give him, only to find he was already gone.
That little cat hadn’t even left him a farewell.
“Don’t be sad.” Paimon’s fingers tapped the teacup, his voice carrying a mix of comfort and teasing. “His Highness Li Ao is too young. He surely didn’t mean to overlook you.”
“How old are you?” Zane, lying on the examination bed, fixed his blue eyes on the little cat crouching beside him on standby.
Li Ao stretched out a paw, bending it into a six. “Susu, I’m six years old.”
“Is that so?” Zane was amused by his silly antics and wanted to laugh, but before he could, his pale face twisted as he coughed violently several times.
“Not yet six.” Isiris approached them, ruffling the cat’s head. “A few more months, until the end of summer—that’s when you’ll truly be six.”
Li Ao blinked up in confusion, then suddenly heard Zane cough dramatically again and quickly turned to look.
The gaunt man hacked up a massive clump of black thread-like things. They writhed, trying to flee, but the little cat glared fiercely, his blue eyes turning knife-sharp as he meowed, “Scram!”
His tone was menacing, but his little fangs made his speech whistle when excited, undercutting the intimidation. It didn’t matter, though—right after he spoke, golden specks of light erased the mass.
It disintegrated bit by bit like ash, visibly vanishing to the naked eye.
“This is different from before.” Researcher Shelby scribbled on his clipboard. “For humans contaminated by the Doom Virus, no one else but the little cat should be able to see those threads.”
“Perhaps,” Kuren interjected, “it’s the influence of the Crystal of Delphi?”
“Those are secondary.” Shelby tucked his pen behind his ear and bent down. “Your Highness Little Cat, can you pull out Uncle Zane’s lower body?”
The phrasing was awful. Kuren’s face darkened, and he slapped the old man’s face.
Startled, the little cat gaped, watching Grandpa Doctor beat up Grandpa Researcher while placing his paw on Zane. The man’s upper body had already reverted to human form—even the crystallization remained—but his lower half was still shrouded in black mist.
“Can’t pull…” Li Ao sensed it and instinctively knew it wasn’t possible right now. “Susu’s legs are gone…”
The black threads now acted like octopus tentacles, serving as the man’s lower limbs.
“What about your legs?” Isiris asked Zane.
The blue-eyed man flashed a smile. Even with his sunken cheeks, traces of his former glory remained. “That Xenoid ate them.” His tone was calm, as if stating something trivial.
At the Dawn League ten years ago, he’d been invited as an Overseer to an undeveloped wild star system. By coincidence, they encountered a bug swarm and a newborn A-Rank Xenoid. To cover the students’ retreat, he chose to face it alone. He still vividly remembered that moment—his thighs bitten clean off, blood gushing, his mind teetering on collapse amid the ripping pain. The next second, it swallowed him whole.
But he didn’t die.
That Xenoid was strange; something parasitized its body. He hadn’t realized what it was then, only instinctively gasping, trying to staunch the bleeding from his wound.
Then, the black threads caught a scent and surged toward him.
“That Xenoid was clever. It shuttled all the way, and once all the black threads had transferred to me, it spat me out.” As if afraid to scare the child, Zane paused. Seeing the little cat’s round face full of confusion, he chuckled softly before continuing. “It knew I couldn’t die. If I did, the virus would return to it. So we made a deal—it couldn’t leave the planet, and we’d waste away here together.”
“But too long… my consciousness is nearly eroded away.”
He’d lost track of time, forgotten who he was, even his beliefs and loyalties. The only instinct left in his mind was to control the black threads, keeping them from returning to the Xenoid.
He couldn’t let it get contaminated. If it did, it’d bring catastrophe to humanity.
Ten years.
For those ten years, he and that Xenoid stalemated on this barren planet, locked in a symbiotic tug-of-war, neither able to fully escape the other.
Whenever new black threads formed in the Xenoid, he absorbed them again, imprisoning them in his body.
Day after day, until now.
The golden-haired Monarch finished listening and leaned down to plant a blessing kiss on his brother’s forehead. “Zane Regalis, you live up to the Regalis bloodline. You are Delphi’s hero.”
Zane froze, eyes widening slightly, forgetting to breathe for a moment.
Among royals, light forehead kisses occurred occasionally, but almost only between parents and children. This was the first time ever—his brother, the Empire’s supreme ruler, had bestowed him a blessing kiss.
“Oh, my unparalleled handsome brother.” His blue pupils dilated, his ornate, retro tone teasing. “You are the sun in the sky, your affirmation the highest honor for us mortals…”
The praises flowed endlessly. Li Ao watched left and right with his watery blue eyes, then suddenly mimicked the adults: “Oh, my unparalleled handsome…” Before he finished, two slender fingers pinched his mouth shut.
“Don’t imitate.” Isiris’s face was icy cold. He scooped up the kitten and ordered the still-getting-beaten Shelby nearby. “I want the research report before nightfall.”
With that, he strode away with the little cat. Li Ao nestled obediently in his arms, craning his head to stare at the man’s sharp, angular jaw. Sensing the cub’s gaze, Isiris lowered his eyes. “What is it?”
The little cat shook his head and buried his face in his chest.
“Are you resenting me for not staying by your side?” Isiris’s voice was low and steady, merely stating a fact, not reflecting or questioning. He wasn’t the emotional type; his feelings rarely showed—or more precisely, others’ emotions meant little to him.
He was the Empire’s sun—never stopping, never looking back. Countless followers trailed him, willing to offer their hearts. He wouldn’t halt for any single individual.
But an exception had appeared.
“I know you didn’t wanna throw me away.” The kitten was so understanding it was heartbreaking. “But, but you didn’t call Susu.”
Explanations were pointless to Isiris; he hated wasting time on them. So he simply reached out and lifted the little cat from his arms.
He looked down at the dangling little thing—ears drooping sadly, blue eyes watery with tears swirling, face full of grievance.
This was odd. In Isiris’s life, he despised tears most. They held no meaning—couldn’t defeat Xenoids, save the people, or awaken his parents’ sleeping souls. His siblings’ crying never earned his pity; the weak were culled by fate. Yet this kitten’s tears stirred a unfamiliar hesitation in Isiris.
“Sorry.” Unprecedentedly, the Empire’s Monarch bowed his head to a cub. “I failed in my duty as a father.”
The little cat pouted but didn’t cry, softly making his demand: “Next time you go out, you hafta tell Li Ao the exact days!” He didn’t quite get months and dates yet, so he held up two paws and counted for the man. “One day, two days… or even more days than paws can count!”
“Alright.” His golden lashes lowered slightly, eyes grave. “I promise you—next time, I’ll tell you the exact triumphant return date.”
“There’s also phone calls!” The little cat pushed his luck, immediately spreading his paws to count again for him. “At the very least, one call a day!”
“Alright.” A faint hint of amusement flickered in the golden eyes, vanishing quickly as he spotted others approaching.
“Sun, the Excellencies are all in position.”
Isiris didn’t glance at the others, merely planting a gentle kiss on the cat’s head. “Go play with your little dog. Don’t be afraid—this planet holds nothing that can harm you anymore.”
Daddy kissed me?
Li Ao landed on all fours, dumbly lifting a paw to touch his head. Oh, couldn’t reach. But that didn’t dampen Fierce Cat’s good mood at all. His big tail perked up high, the tip even wiggling back and forth as he bounced off to find the little dog.
Xun was squinting intently at that Xenoid. The towering colossal beast trembled under the gaze of the tiny black fluffball.
“Xun!” Hearing the little cat’s voice, the scarlet eyes blinked, and he turned around to see the little cat, bundled in cold-proof gear and waddling over in a plump, rounded shape.
“Why aren’t you wearing clothes?” The little cat raised a paw—barely any length left under the cold-proof suit—and poked the little dog’s head. “Not cold?”
Xun softly and weakly nuzzled against the little cat’s chest. “Li Ao.”
“It’s cold, huh?” The little cat heard and hurriedly pulled out a round little button. “Li Ao give you clothes to wear~.” In front of outsiders, his baby teeth speech was almost fluent, but around those close to him, when too relaxed or eager, it always slipped back a bit.
Extremely cute. The little dog loved the little cat like this.
The moment the little button was pressed to his head, it wrapped the little coal ball in cold-proof gear too. The two little ones held paws, waddling toward the Xenoid like penguins.
Seeing the superior being return, the Xenoid immediately tensed and prostrated itself on the ground again. Its massive head pressed to the ice, its azure beast pupils suddenly contracting.
What’s that?
It stared blankly.
A glowing bundle—even from afar, it could sense the warmth. So cute… It didn’t understand the word, but instinctively felt it: so cute, what is this?
The Xenoid wanted to stand and get a closer look, but a single squint from the superior pinned it back in place.
But that was fine, because the glowing bundle approached on its own.
“You’re so big~” The little cat stared up dumbly. Even with its head pressed to the ground, just the skull alone was as tall as a human.
The Xenoid couldn’t understand human speech, but it sensed the glowy one’s meaning. So big! Meaning strong! Approval! Attractive for mating! A pleased buzz rumbled from its throat as it instantly thought of showing off its power to him.
Xun felt like he was about to spit fire. He let go of the little cat’s paw, and the black fur chestnut ball leaped up, smashing the Xenoid right back down.
[You want to die?]
Xun kept jumping and slamming down, stomping the Xenoid until it couldn’t care about the glowy ball anymore, curling up desperately in a somewhat pathetic attempt to dodge.
The Xenoid’s heavy body caused the ice plain to tremble with the slightest movement. The little cat went splat, knocked flat on the ground, flailing clumsily to get up. But just as he propped himself a bit, the next tremor sent him splatting back down. The protective suit already made walking awkward; his little paws scrabbled on the ground a few times but couldn’t stand. He simply flopped there, giving up entirely.
Over there, the furious Xun finally stomped the Xenoid into whimpering silence before stopping to notice the little cat.
The little coal ball hurried over, squeezing under the little cat’s belly to prop him up. “Li Ao.”
Fierce Cat finally caught his breath, sighing as he plopped down on his butt—his height not even reaching the Xenoid’s lower lip.
At this moment, the little coal ball knew to play innocent and weak, trembling against the little cat’s side, looking all injured.
And Fierce Cat totally fell for it, heartbroken as he scooped up the little dog and petted him nonstop. “Does it hurt? You’re so tiny, and it’s huge—it must hurt for sure.”
The Xenoid pitifully tucked its feet, not daring to retort.
“The little dog has to protect the little cat.” Xun blinked softly. “Xun will protect Li Ao.”
His own little dog was too cute! Fierce Cat nuzzled him. “Thanks, Xun.”
Li Ao wasn’t dumb. Even if the adults thought him young, he’d picked up on some things from Xixi and Susu’s conversations.
Fierce Cat put on a serious face, his tiny body standing before the Xenoid. “Why did you want to eat Li Ao’s Susu?!”
Did Xenoids need a reason to eat people? The colossal beast blinked, letting out a deep rumble.
“You still can’t! Can’t eat people! Mantis Monster and Cow Monster don’t eat people either!”
In the distance, Brenna crossed her hands in front of her, smiling curved-eyed at the little cat ahead.
“Highness… can he tame that Xenoid?” a soldier asked.
“Of course he can,” Brenna said dramatically, raising her handkerchief to dab at moved tears. “I’m so looking forward to it—the day humans and Xenoids live in peace under Little Highness’s rule.”
The soldier shivered, unsure if it was her demeanor or her words that chilled him.
Humans and Xenoids in peace? Impossible.
“Nothing’s impossible.” Qin Mian stood with hands clasped behind her back, spine straight. Facing the scrutiny of the leaders, her posture was neither humble nor arrogant. “Since contestant Li Ao ranks fifth in points, he should receive the corresponding award.”
The points from Xenoids Li Ao killed were too high; even with zero in culture scores, his total put him fifth.
“I object!” someone spoke up. “That cat was erroneously bound as a contestant. Normally, his age wouldn’t qualify.”
Qin Mian countered, “The league requires participants to be at least 18 for safety, not a hard rule. Past events had 16-year-olds competing.”
“Those are ancient history! Nothing like that since Year 40 of the Star Calendar!”
“Besides, even if there’s an award, can he even come claim it?”
“Enough.” A cold, hard voice cut in. The speaker was a stern middle-aged man with impeccably slicked-back brown hair, The Federation star emblem on his uniform shoulders—clearly high-ranking.
As expected, after he spoke, Qin Mian and the others ceased arguing. But even such a steady, dominant figure bent at the waist the instant his gaze shifted to the conference hall door, posture respectful and cautious. “Excellency Fitt.”
A light chuckle sounded. The newcomer had an East Asian mixed face, average height, dressed in a white Chinese-style uniform, white gloves holding a folded fan—black hair, purple eyes, androgynously beautiful in an eerie way.
Yet in The Federation, no one dared underestimate him for his looks. Not just for his exceptional abilities, but because he was the son of The Federation’s top leader, a powerful heir.
“That little guy ranks fifth, so The Federation shall award him accordingly.” Fitt sat in the chair pulled out by an attendant, toying with his fan. “Whether he comes to claim it is his business; The Federation must uphold its rules.”
His expression turned icy. “Such a simple truth, and you argue half the day?”
The conference room fell deathly silent. Fitt smiled again. “Excellency Qin Mian, as the league’s organizer, you hold absolute authority over the event. Don’t come asking about these matters next time.”
“Yes, Excellency.” Qin Mian’s face was calm; at his waving gesture, she strode out.
“Ma’am.” Her subordinate grumbled, “They keep overstepping into our affairs, and yet…”
Qin Mian made a silencing gesture, boarding the starship without looking back.
The Interstellar Federation Republic—its people prided themselves on democracy, scorning the outdated monarchy. Yet unbeknownst to them, their Federation was heading toward hereditary rule too.
“Send an invitation to Delphi, informing contestant Li Ao of his win and inviting him to the award ceremony.”
“What damn award?” A hot-tempered burly man slammed the table. “Worth making our Highness travel all that way?”
“Those talentless Federation pricks, always scheming for hegemony instead of killing bugs—probably a Hongmen Banquet trap!”
Isiris sat at the head, long legs crossed, propping his cheek without speaking.
A diplomatic staffer accustomed to Federation dealings said, “Fifth place in the Dawn League, one million star coins prize.”
“Tch—” The hot-tempered man scoffed. “That’s it? Not even enough fuel to fly the warship there!”
True, but the staffer hesitated with an “Uh,” “There’s also another award…”
“What else?”
“The Interstellar Cutest Fluffy Cat Award.”
“…” The scoff froze on the hot-tempered man’s face. Th-this couldn’t be refuted. It was real. “…Is this fluffy cat award legit?”
“Of course it is.” Who’d doubt that? “It got nearly 100% of the league votes!”
The staffer beamed proudly. “The first-ever Fluffy Cat Award in history!” Unless surprises, the only winner ever.
“Then…” The burly man scratched his head with a thick hand. “That works! That’s fine! And the timing—Federation side’s spring now, right? With that Star Celebrity Festival or whatever. Let’s take the little cat to play!”
Everyone’s gazes swiveled to the Monarch, burning hot. “Sun, shall we go?”
Isiris originally didn’t want to get involved in these matters. After all, the purpose of his expedition this time wasn’t just to clear out the Xenoid Variants—it was also to search for Aliya’s lost prophecy.
Now, the prophecy hadn’t been found, but he’d recovered Zane instead.
“Ask the little cat.” Isiris put down his hand and stood up. “Let the kid decide for himself.”
Let the little cat decide for itself?
Li Ao stood on the head of the tamed A-Rank Xenoid, his blue eyes watery as he looked at the human. “Is there money?”
“There’s some, oh!” A group of ministers surrounded him like they were coaxing their grandson.
“How many one-kuai bills?”
The group of burly men melted, their voices softening as they spoke to the cat: “A million one-kuai bills!”
A million one-kuai bills—how much was that? Li Ao couldn’t calculate it. Brenna, who had been with him for a while, understood him and bent down with a smile. “There’s also a certificate to claim, oh.”
A certificate?!
Li Ao had seen the older kids in kindergarten with their certificates! They were red and yellow pieces of paper, and the kids who got them were all super happy!
“Is… is there a little red flower too?”
The little cat’s wavering heart completely crumbled upon hearing that not only was there money and a certificate, but also a little red flower. He straightened up, his two paws tugging at Isiris’s pant leg. He didn’t say a word, just stared at the man like that.
“Mandjet.” The golden-haired Monarch said, “Lock in the course.”
