[ Earth | Lunar New Year’s First Day ]
“What a sin, such a young child frozen to death alive.”
“That fog last night was too eerie. It came so suddenly and fiercely, and anyone who inhaled it felt dizzy. Was he out playing and got lost in the thick fog, unable to find his way home, then froze to death?”
“Probably. And that wasn’t fog at all—it was definitely toxic gas from a chemical plant! What a sin, killing such a young child.”
“Whose kid is this? Why hasn’t anyone come to claim the body yet?”
“From that building over there. The police have arrived, but they still haven’t come down.”
“It’s not like he got lost while playing out. They say his parents divorced long ago and started new families, neither wanting him.”
“He’s so good-looking, and they still abandoned him? They’re not human. How could parents be like that?”
“It’s the New Year, too. So pitiful.”
No, that’s not true at all…
The surroundings were filled with a cacophony of discussions. Li Ao wanted to say he wasn’t pitiful. Even though his dad and mom didn’t want him, he had grandma. He wasn’t “Pitiful”.
“Of course the child goes with his mom. What would it look like following a grown man like me around? I don’t want him.”
“You forced me to have him back then, and now that we’re divorced, you don’t want him? I’m remarrying, so I definitely can’t drag along an oil bottle like that.”
“Then dump him on that lonely old woman next door. If she wants to raise him, let her.”
“So pitiful… Such parents… Unwanted Poor thing…”
The discussions, arguments, and sympathetic voices grew louder yet more indistinct. Li Ao could no longer hear what they were saying. The noises tangled together, roaring relentlessly, rampaging through his brain. The pain exceeded what a child could endure. He began to cry and struggle, wanting to cover his ears to block out the sounds.
“Li Ao isn’t unwanted! Li Ao has grandma! Li Ao picks up trash and sells it to buy flowers for grandma, and grandma will raise Li Ao too!” He shouted back loudly. Survival instinct made him reach out and tear at the thing wrapping him.
“Grandma!” He cried and yelled, wanting to escape the omnipresent voices.
“After today, it’ll be the new year. Grandma’s prepared something—take it back to your former parents.” She handed him the basket. “Pleasant journey, Li Ao.”
Li Ao held the basket in his left hand and waved vigorously with his right to bid grandma farewell.
“Li Ao.” Even after running far, he could still hear grandma calling him. “Li Ao, you must come back! Grandma will always, always be waiting for you at home!”
“I know!” He turned around and grinned happily at the frail old woman with white hair. “Li Ao will be back soon!”
Images and sounds wove into layer upon layer of nets trapping Li Ao. He desperately tugged and tore. When his hands proved useless, claws emerged. Sharp nails scratched wildly. Like a chick struggling to break free from its shell, he finally pecked out a ray of light for himself.
“Cough—” Accompanied by heart-wrenching coughs, he slid to the ground.
Something fell down, covering Li Ao’s head. He wanted to remove it, but his hands lacked strength. Finally wriggling free, he realized something was wrong.
He no longer had hands. In their place were two short paws.
Li Ao blankly flipped over the paws, seeing the pink paw pads. Then he thought, where are my feet? Only to see his feet had become paws too.
Huh? What about my head? Did it become a paw too? He strained to stretch his paw up to touch his face. The moment he did, he froze in shock.
“So much fur…” It was still wet and sticky, clinging uncomfortably to his face.
He glanced at the ground and saw that the thing covering his head earlier was a towel. He rubbed his face vigorously against the towel—left cheek, then right, wiped his paws, then his feet. Finally, he rolled his body in the towel, twisting around. After getting himself half-dry, he sat up, shook his ears, and finally had time to observe his surroundings.
This was a bright and spacious room. The overhead lights stung his eyes, making it hard to open them. The walls and floor were cold, icy white, like an operating room from TV dramas.
The ground had shattered eggshell membranes and large pools of liquid—he had just emerged from there.
Not far away was a mirror. Controlling his unfamiliar four short legs, he stumbled over clumsily. Seeing his reflection clearly, his pupils dilated in delight at how cute it was.
Golden-brown back fur, white facial markings in an inverted eight pattern and white belly, blue eyes each with a black-brown stripe above, a large tail, extremely short legs, and a little belly almost dragging on the ground.
“Waa—oh~” He let out a mew. “It’s a kitten?” Childlike at heart, he was extremely curious about the short-legged kitten in the mirror and lifted a paw to touch it.
But he wasn’t even good at walking on all fours yet, let alone that motion. He staggered and fell, his fluffy face smacking the ground.
Urgh… It hurts.
He rubbed his face, then looked back up at the mirror. Seeing the figure inside mimic his actions, he finally realized—the one in the mirror was himself.
He was a precocious and optimistic child. He’d watched lots of rebirth and transmigration dramas and sci-fi shows with grandma, so he quickly accepted that he’d turned into a cat. He even wildly imagined if he’d frozen to death, then grandma sent him to the White Coats for research, and he’d revived!
“Wah, so cool! This is just like Dong Xixi’s experience!” Dong Xixi, the little kitten, was Li Ao’s favorite animated character. It had died and been turned by White Coats from human into an orange-and-white short-legged kitten.
He climbed up and touched himself in the mirror. Fierce Cat was pleased. “I’m so good-looking, just like Dong Xixi!”
He was already good at self-consolation. With that thought, the confusion in his heart faded somewhat. He felt like he’d been reborn just like Dong Xixi.
And he was right.
Except the place he’d reborn wasn’t Earth, but Aurilion.
It was a base used by a higher civilization to research organisms, hatching countless embryos of different species a hundred years ago. But with the Zerg’s ravages and the base’s orbit shifting out of alignment, it was no longer suitable for human research or habitation. They soon abandoned it.
The experimental embryos with signs of life were all taken away by humans, leaving only a dead egg behind.
For a century, it sat on the incubator alongside a robot, both abandoned by humans in this place. Until a hundred years later, an incoming soul activated it.
Li Ao’s stomach growled loudly. His soul hadn’t eaten grandma’s New Year’s Eve dinner, and his kitten belly hadn’t had food for a century. Right now, he was hungry enough to devour a cow!
After familiarizing himself with his limbs, Li Ao toddled out of the incubation room on splayed legs.
Outside was a cold, empty corridor, impeccably clean without a speck of dust, the air faintly scented with disinfectant.
Tiny as he was with his short legs, he had to pause every few steps to shake his ears. He wasn’t acting cute or selling cuteness—he was listening for sounds. Though only six, before meeting grandma, he’d cared for himself alone. He’d press his ear to the door to judge if mom was back with a strange uncle, dad with a weird aunt, or if bad guys were trying to break in and steal.
He was super smart!
Li Ao kept shaking his ears. He heard the clatter of pot and spatula, and smelled the savory aroma of searing meat.
Grrrowl—his belly rumbled.
Hunger overpowered fear. He swallowed, dragging his tail as he groped toward the source of sound and scent.
Stopping before a room, he hooked his paws on the doorframe and peeked inside stealthily, ears perked back.
He saw a white cylindrical back—round head, no legs, but two mechanical arms. Facing away from Li Ao, its left arm flipped the pan while the right held the spatula. No doubt it was cooking.
Li Ao gulped—equal parts hunger and fear. He wasn’t stupid; this wasn’t some cartoon scenario. Dong Xixi was a badass cat who never feared adventure, but it was a big cat.
He’d only just become a cat, not a Macho Cat like Dong Xixi yet, so he was a tiny bit scared.
But he was hungrier than scared. Besides, he had to go home. You needed to eat to live, live to go home. Grandma was still waiting at home. He had to get home.
Bolstering himself inwardly, he shakily called out a greeting. “H-Hello, th-thank you for the towel.”
He’d lived alone so long, he wasn’t some little dummy. That towel covering him definitely came from “someone.”
The other’s meat-frying paused. It turned around, its electronic eye fixing on Li Ao. The gaze held no emotion—not cold, not warm, just inorganic staring. Yet it stirred an indescribable feeling in Li Ao—the primal human fear of the unknown.
His four short legs wobbled, butt scooting back a bit, ready to bolt if anything seemed off. “Th-Thank you for the towel you tossed, s-so I could w-wipe clean.”
The robot didn’t speak. It glanced at Li Ao again. With a faint mechanical whir from its motions, it turned back, plated the meat, set the dish on the ground, then resumed cleaning the counter.
Li Ao blanked for a moment, then got it. His perked-back ears straightened.
This must be for me…
Ultra-sensitive to kindness and malice, he knew the other wouldn’t harm him. His courage grew.
The aroma of meat was right under his nose. Starving to the brink of fainting, Li Ao stuck out his tongue and licked the corner of his mouth, tentatively extending one paw forward a step. After shuffling a few centimeters and seeing the robot still busy with its own tasks, he lifted his paw and crept onward.
Step by step like this—advance a little, check once—Li Ao finally reached the edge of the plate.
“Thank you for preparing the food. Can Li Ao eat it?” His saliva was practically dripping, but he still asked the robot’s permission first.
The robot slowly turned around. An emotionless electronic voice droned from somewhere: “You can eat.”
With permission granted, Li Ao’s tail perked up happily as he scooped up the meat with both paws and chomped down.
So hot!
He hurriedly let go, blowing on his scalded paw pads a couple times before grabbing it again. Forgetful as ever, he got burned once more. After repeating this a few times, he finally shoved the meat into his mouth.
Still couldn’t chew it. His little fangs ground away for ages, squeezing out only a bit of meat juice. Undeterred, he clamped the meat in his mouth and yanked downward with both paws, his cat face scrunching up in effort.
Still no luck. He set the meat down and cautiously lifted his head to glance at the robot. Seeing it standing there silently with no objection, he pawed at a nearby small knife, gripped it with both paws, and sawed vigorously at the steak.
The knife was sharp. In just a few strokes, he’d cut the meat into small chunks. Li Ao tossed the knife aside and devoured it, tears streaming from the heat.
Alpha-13 watched him the entire time, recording and analyzing everything.
Born from a dead egg, yet able to speak ancient Chinese long obsolete in the interstellar era—he wasn’t some young butterfly breaking from its cocoon, but an external soul that had seized this experimental body.
Bold, polite, and named Li Ao.
