Chapter 45: Blind Praise

A cat less than 15 cm at the shoulder, not even 25 cm tall when standing on its hind legs, was leading a xenoid dozens of times larger than him—Come on! Time! For! The! Checkup!

Even the Delphi doctors, who had been through fire and blades on the battlefield, had never seen a sight like this.

The medical ship was parked in the desert, casting a massive shadow over the ground. Hot winds swirled by as the doctor’s eye twitched. He forced a professional smile, adjusted his glasses, and said mildly, “Your Highness Kitty, please watch your step on the stairs.”

The little cat froze for a moment, looking down at the clearly tall steps, then at the not-insignificant distance. His expression gradually turned serious, and he nodded solemnly. “No. 1, this is really high, so be careful, okay.”

The doctor: “…” In that moment, unprecedented doubt arose in him. Is this right? Was I trying to remind the xenoid? Whatever, can I just pick up His Highness myself? No, no, Brenna over there is watching with that creepy smile. Wait, which idiot intern doctor opened the hatch? What kind of half-assed job is this—out of three boarding methods, they picked the hardest one for His Highness?!

Amid the doctor’s internal ranting, the 5 cm legs tugged on six long ones, huffing and puffing with rhythmic effort as they climbed into the medical ship’s entrance.

The medical screen displayed a grayish image. The little cat pressed both paws on the display stand, solemnly studying something he couldn’t understand.

“Only one,” the bespectacled doctor said to Shelby. “It’s already formed and absorbing nutrients for growth.”

Xenoids couldn’t reproduce outside the Abyss. This was humanity’s first glimpse of xenoid gestation.

The scanner’s light flickered in the lab. The image on the screen twisted grotesquely—that thing clung to the mother’s abdominal cavity like a parasitic tumor.

The bespectacled doctor’s voice was slightly hoarse. “It doesn’t even have a uterus or birth canal. How is it supposed to give birth?”

Shelby’s lips tightened slightly. “It doesn’t need to give birth.” This “it” didn’t refer to the mother Mantis Monster No. 1, but the embryo inside her.

“When it develops to a certain point, it’ll burst out on its own.”

“What about the mother?” The bespectacled doctor blurted out subconsciously, then realized—the mother would be dead by then.

Li Ao couldn’t understand it and couldn’t follow, so he lifted his round chubby face innocently. “What does the little mantis baby look like? Will it look like No. 1, with long legs? Or like No. 2, with a big head?”

Shelby shot the bespectacled doctor a look, signaling him to shut up, then grinned and patted the cat’s head. “What does Your Highness want it to look like?”

Li Ao actually thought about it, then turned to look at Mantis Monster No. 1, obediently squatting in the scanning device under his orders. “Anything’s fine. I saw on TV that giving birth to babies is really dangerous. As long as No. 1 doesn’t get hurt, that’s good.”

Shelby was still pondering how to sugarcoat the brutal truth when he was interrupted by the bespectacled doctor’s sharp intake of breath. His gaze shifted back to the screen.

In the mere seconds after the little cat spoke, the embryo on the screen—which had been frantically sucking up nutrients, tightly fused to the mother’s bloodstream—suddenly halted.

As if it had heard the little cat’s words, it directly stopped harming the mother.

The little cat was still muttering, “Little mantis baby, you have to be good. Don’t hurt bug mommy.”

In response, the thing actually cracked open a slit and spat some mucus into the mother’s abdominal cavity.

The scene was too horrifying. Even though they’d seen gore fly on battlefields, they couldn’t help but tense up, fingertips chilling.

“…What is it doing?” The bespectacled doctor already had a guess.

Shelby stared at the screen for a long moment, then said lowly, “Repairing the mother.”

It had received the little cat’s command.

This was illogical. Past research showed xenoids submitted to S-Rank superiors out of instinct. The xenoid here obeyed the little cat due to some deal—a transaction of interests. But this new individual gestating inside, without any benefit, had obeyed the little cat.

Li Ao nudged them. “Is it done?”

Shelby crouched down and, under Brenna’s murderous glare, patted the cat’s head again. “All done, Your Highness. Can we bring No. 1 back for another check in a few days?”

“Sure!” The cat’s face was serious.

Delphi’s Procurement Minister, sporting a stern bearded face, was railing at the Federation.

“Your seeds have a survival rate of only up to 30%!”

The Federation official smiled professionally upon hearing this, interlacing his hands on the table in poised composure. His tone carried just the right mix of helplessness and explanation. “Sir, we assure you there’s no deception or deliberate sabotage on our part.”

He sighed lightly, his gaze sincere, continuing in that polished officialese. “As you know, in the current interstellar environment, crop survival rates have been a galaxy-wide challenge for the entire Federation and beyond.” He paused, flashing a helpless smile. “We’ve done our utmost to select the hardiest varieties, but truthfully, these seeds top out at 30% survival. It’s not a subjective limit on our end, but an objective reality of interstellar ecology.”

“Bullshit,” the big beard slammed the table and unleashed a tirade. “I don’t care about your subjective or objective crap. If you don’t refund me today, I’ll park my warship at your doorstep! I’ll XXX your XXX, you XXX…”

The Federation official’s face darkened, his eye visibly twitching. Never in his high position had he been cussed out so vulgarly. He suppressed the urge to fire back, squeezing out a professional smile. “Sir, please calm down. It’s not that we don’t want to refund you…”

He dragged on with excuses—refunds weren’t happening anyway, just some economic compensation.

“So how much are you refunding!”

The Federation had anticipated this; Delphi folks weren’t idiots—they’d test the seed viability. The official grinned. “The Interstellar Federation holds Delphi in the highest regard. Since the seeds max out at 30% survival, we’ll sell them to you at 90% off.”

The Procurement Minister’s face was grim. After weighing it, he nodded. The refund hit immediately, matter settled. After hanging up, both sides muttered, “Idiot.”

The Federation official beamed—those seeds wouldn’t survive anyway; selling at 90% off was a blessing, and the idiot agreed.

Delphi’s Procurement Minister rubbed his hands like a fly, grinning ear to ear. “That idiot doesn’t know we have Cat God, haha.”

Delphi’s Cat God had been roped into the warehouse for a buck by the big beard. Paws on the seed bags, his Spiritual Power was drained that day. Belly exposed, he was topped by a black-furred chestnut ball on his forehead as he went home to sleep.

The big beard’s small eyes sparkled. After sending off the little cat, he rushed back, voice urgent. “How is it? Did it work?”

In the lab, scanners hummed nonstop, data updating slowly. The whole team held their breath, eyes glued to the results.

The seeds had been batch-tested. Results were clear.

Seeds closer to the little cat’s Spiritual Power burst had higher activity.

Those farther away, touched only by ripples, improved to around 50%, while…

The ones at the epicenter of the little cat’s Spiritual Power release tested at—

100%.

Dead silence in the lab. Everyone stared at the bold red “100%” on the screen, not daring to breathe.

The big beard’s eyes bulged, mouth opening and closing before he gasped sharply, slapping his thigh and roaring, “—Cat God forever!”

The lower-activity seeds weren’t an issue; just call Cat God for sowing.

The big beard happily distributed seeds house to house. But one problem…

These were ordinary veggies and fruits, but after the little cat’s Spiritual Power boost, they all turned mutant. Not as deadly as Strangling Vines, but biting people casually was commonplace…

“There are perks too…” Delphi had no xenoids, but real bugs yes—now unnecessary; the plants ate insects themselves…

Delphi folks had never farmed so easily in their lives!

“Hey, just loosen soil and water— this ain’t farming,” they sighed. Too easy, no sense of achievement—they were complaining!

Harvest season was better: all geared up, raring to battle the biting lettuce, cucumbers, eggplants, peppers—Plants vs. Delphi Humans in action.

Spring Festival passed amid the lively reclamation season. Li Ao’s two little canine teeth had grown a tiny bit; with some control, his speech no longer whistled.

“Xixi!” Seeing the projection light up, the little cat’s ears perked straight up. He pounced fiercely. “Xixi!”

Isiris watched the little cat’s failed attempt to nuzzle, then unhesitatingly had Mandjet activate Astral Projection.

This wasn’t the Federation’s Star Network, but Delphi’s own net. The Astral Projection cost more, but so what? Even millions per minute was worth it.

The little cat hadn’t burrowed into the man’s arms for a whole month. Now, he scampered up the chair in a flash and wriggled in, boldly shoving his little wings against the man’s palm with a soft, fluffy voice: “Scratch-scratch.”

Isiris lowered his gaze, his fingertips slowly stroking the itchy spot at the base of the little wings. Once the little cat was squinting in comfort, he spoke: “It’s also time to put them away. Imagine yourself without wings.”

The little cat tilted his head, ears twitching as he tried hard.

Then—

The little wings flapped vigorously, fluffing up even more than before, spreading a bit wider.

Isiris chuckled softly, his golden brows and eyes so handsome that Fierce Cat’s furry face flushed red. He purred nonstop, kneading the man’s sturdy forearm while stealing glances at him uncontrollably.

“Take it slow.” The golden-haired emperor guided patiently: “Where I touch, sense its presence. When I let go, sense it vanishing.”

His cool fingertips brushed lightly over the wings on its back, the temperature difference transmitting through subtle pressure. The little cat’s ears twitched as it focused intently on that faint tactile change.

“My Leo.” Like southern winds blowing north across the glacier’s edge, Isiris’s cool voice carried a rare warmth. “You’re doing very well.”

The little cat listened to the encouragement in a daze, only then realizing its wings had retracted.

“Now,” Isiris said, “release them again.”

Time was thin, slipping through his fingers like fine sand. Isiris said: “I’m logging off.”

The little cat pouted but was obedient, asking aggrievedly: “When are you coming back?”

“Once Li Ao’s canine teeth grow a bit more.” Isiris replied: “When I return, I’ll teach you to fly.”

“Mm.” The little cat agreed softly, asking reluctantly: “Can I call you?”

“Of course. If I miss it, I’ll call back when I have time.”

The clingy little guy kept him on the line for a long while before Isiris finally ended the call.

“Sun.” Shen Que’s lips were taut as he reported immediately: “The front lines have found traces of that A-Rank Xenoid and its commander.”

“Let’s go.” The warmth faded, his golden hair slicing a sharp arc through the air as frigid killing intent spread from him. The emperor strode out, his cloak whipping up in the snow with biting murderous aura.

“Swish—” The robot shook out the little cat’s towel and hung it on a small tree in the yard.

Li Ao had just straightened up from sharpening his claws on the tree. Kukuku scratched a few times, then landed on all fours and asked: “Machine, what are you doing today?”

That was a lot.

The rooms where the two little ones stayed turned into a warzone if not cleaned daily.

Silver Wing spent ages every morning tidying up. After that, it had to take the short-legged cat to Aiai’ang’ang. Even if the short-legged cat could pilot the starship himself, he absolutely couldn’t leave supervision—after all, he was just a not-so-bright kitten cub.

And once the cat was dropped off, it had to rush back to Delphi for a network check-in.

That’s right—Silver Wing had a job now. Its day was busy, but its programming felt fulfilled by the bustle.

“Here.” The robot put the little backpack on the cat. “I’m heading back to Delphi. I’ll pick you up tonight.”

“Oh.” The little cat stood up—his wings already retracted—with a goose-yellow and light-blue backpack on his back. “This strap is way too long!”

Why don’t you say your legs are short? The robot mentally typed a string of cold-laugh code.

“But it looks so good, wa! Machine, you’re super awesome! You can even do crafts.” That’s right—this little backpack was handmade by the nanny robot.

“…” Flattered by the cat, the robot primly raised its mechanical arm and tightened the straps to the max. “There. Go on.”

Its push sent the cat’s butt stumbling. Li Ao tugged Xun along, muttering: “Machine is so lazy. It won’t even do chores now.”

It was heading straight back to Delphi to slack off!

The robot, which hadn’t told the little cat about its job, clenched its mechanical arm, suppressed the urge to swat the cat, fired up the starship, and returned to Delphi.

The yellow sands stretched endlessly. Amid the boundless gold, strange green patches dotted the landscape. Every so often, a field dug into a cat-head shape appeared—round outline, pointy ears.

“Yo, Little Highness is backpacking today? Looks real pretty, hey!” An old soldier resting from work grinned and greeted Li Ao.

The little cat was already chatty; when praised, its eyes sparkled as it replied, “Machine made it!”

“Whoa, super cute!”

The old folks loved cubs, especially this one—the empire’s future, so sensible and adorable.

“Our Highness can breathe, yo!”

“You bet! That’s too awesome!”

Li Ao’s formerly flat kitty chest puffed up amid the wide-eyed praises, his blue eyes watery and brighter than Delphi’s seas.

“This kid’s so easy to please.” The scruffy old man took his friend’s smoke and added: “In these times, pure cubs like this are rare.”

“…” The smoking old man eyed him closely, realizing it was sincere, not forced. No wonder—through Delphi’s history, no cub was like this little cat. Even the sickly Ryan was mentally precocious, far beyond normal. “Not bad.” The smoking old man tapped ash. “Cubs should be like this.”

Even if he would one day rule a nation as Monarch, he wouldn’t follow his father’s old path.

Isiris had shouldered the king’s duties too early, growing amid loneliness and iron blood. But now, he sheltered for his child the sky that should belong to a cub.

Li Ao’s round kitty chest deflated a bit upon seeing the figure by the tomato field.

Ryan wore a white shirt and khaki casual pants, his youthful frame slim and elegant—like the wind could blow him away.

So fragile, yet standing firm.

The youth coughed lightly, pulling a coin from his pocket. “Good morning. Tomatoes?”

Li Ao tiptoed, eyed the shiny silver in the youth’s palm, then his little dog, and said: “One coin each.”

“Okay.” Seeming excited, Ryan coughed a few times, cheeks flushing pink. He squatted and extended his palm to the little cat.

Li Ao took the coin, had Xun tuck it into the bag, then climbed Xun’s head and plucked a big red tomato.

“Here.” Transaction done, the little cat twisted his butt to leave.

“…” Ryan wanted to talk but didn’t know what to say, clutching the fresh red fruit and watching the cat from afar.

“This guy,” Li Ao nimbly pocketed the tomato, “is so weird.”

Xun didn’t care if he was weird, bouncing and asking: “Li Ao, do you like his look?”

Sternly educated by the robot, Xun felt becoming Isiris wasn’t great and got other ideas.

The little cat didn’t hesitate: “Too skinny!” Not healthy at all. “Xixi looks way better!”

As expected! Still transform into Isiris! As for the robot—if it zapped the puppy again, the puppy would devour it!

“But I think.” The little cat patted Xun’s head. “You should grow into me first. Wait till you find a look you like later, okay?”

Xun’s scarlet eyes blinked, suddenly happy. He didn’t actually like Isiris’s look—nobody was better-looking than Li Ao in his eyes.

But he wanted Li Ao to like him, so he’d shifted toward the father Li Ao favored. Now, with permission to grow into Li Ao himself—nothing made the little dog happier.

“Li Ao!” The black-furred chestnut ball pounced, knocking the cat down and rubbing excitedly to mark him with scent.

“Eeek!” The little cat squealed from the stickiness, flailing his paws, ears nearly folded flat. “Play after work!”

From afar, the white-haired youth bit into the tomato, red juice dripping through his fingers as he ate bite after bite.

I don’t like you either!

That phrase echoed like a curse. Ryan stared at his reddened pale hand and slowly clenched it.

Gotta find a way, the little white lion thought. “How can I make the little cat like me?”

That was what Paimon heard when he opened the door.

Fresh from his nap, he wore only a loose silk robe draped casually over his shoulders, moon-white hair tousled across his graceful collarbones—beauty beyond gender. Too bad, in Delphi’s Little Highness’s eyes, he wasn’t as appealing as a short-legged cat.

“Teacher.” Ryan’s usual calm gaze held urgency. “Do you know a way?”

“Hehe—” Paimon leaned on the doorframe, shoulders shaking with soft laughter. Once done, he casually wiped nonexistent tears, teasing: “Well, maybe. That little kitten’s preferences are pretty easy to guess.”

“Guess which hand?” Brenna sat on the lunch cloth, holding out both hands to the little cat. “Guess right and you get two extra candies today.”

A simple reward game—to give the cub confidence and achievement.

But what if he lost?

Fierce Cat looked serious, glancing left and right before raising one paw to tap the maid’s right hand.

“Are you sure? I’m opening it!” Brenna grinned, bringing her previously separated fists together. In that instant of contact, she swapped the candy from her left hand to her right. “Your Highness is so awesome! You got it right!”

How could he possibly lose? You’re overthinking it.

Fierce Cat was so impressive that his tail shot straight up. He immediately tore open the candy wrapper, stuffing one into the little dog’s mouth and popping one into his own. With his little mouth wrapped around the candy, he sucked on it contentedly. “I want to call Xixi!”

The little sun wants to beam light waves at the big sun—how could you stop that? Brenna swiftly pulled out her phone and dialed with a snap.

The phone rang for a long time with no answer. Brenna smiled and said, “His Majesty might be busy over there, or maybe resting. How about we try again later?”

The candy-munching kitten remembered that Xixi always called back when he saw missed calls, so he hummed in agreement, picked up the nearby tomato bucket, and went to check on Mantis Monster No. 1.

As the kitten fed the bug, he chatted with Xun, “Once we’re back in De De Fei, we’ll call Xixi!”

De De Fei’s phones could even show video—you could see the person with those!

But for two whole days, every call went unanswered.