Chai Xiaomi pulled her coat tighter and walked straight ahead without glancing sideways.
Only a few lights were dimly lit in the three-story cabins. The deck was pitch-black in the dead of night, and when she looked over the side, the dark, churning sea looked like a bottomless abyss, making her scalp tingle and her deep-sea phobia flare up.
Fortunately, Youtiao’s voice kept chattering away in her mind.
“Ahead, straight ahead. Watch out for obstacles—though I don’t see any obstacles, but saying it makes me sound professional.”
“Current wind speed: level three. Perceived temperature: cold enough to freeze a dog. Recommendation again: host should go back for a coat.”
“Navigation note: You have veered off the optimal route for finding people. But since you never listen to me anyway, this system has decided to give up route planning and switch to companion chat mode.”
Those meaningless navigation announcements droned on without end.
Chai Xiaomi gradually realized that Youtiao seemed to have noticed she was scared walking alone on the ship at night, so it was intentionally making small talk just to keep her company and boost her courage.
A sudden warmth softened her heart.
“Youtiao baby,” she interrupted, her voice sweet and soft, “thank you~”
The voice in her mind fell silent instantly.
Then came a strange, crackling electronic sound.
Youtiao: “Uh...”
This was the first host ever to call it ‘baby.’ Before this, she’d used that term to charm all those flower-girls into putty. It had rolled its circuits in exasperation back then. But now that the nickname was directed at it, Youtiao watched helplessly as its system interface flickered wildly with pink light, sensors showing an alarming rise in CPU temperature.
Chai Xiaomi blinked. “What’s wrong with you?”
...No response.
Before she could probe further, she looked up and collided with a tall, slender silhouette ahead.
That person stood before a cabin door, his back slightly hunched, as if he was enduring something.
Even without light, only seeing the outline, her eyes recognized that superior figure immediately.
But something seemed... off about him right now.
“Li-li?”
Chai Xiaomi called out in surprise, then identified the location. This should be Old Ji’s room.
The old one liked quiet, so he’d deliberately chosen this small cabin at the very front of the bow, which no one had picked. After all, a cat didn’t need much space.
The moment she spoke, the silhouette jerked.
In the next second, it zipped into the room with a whoosh.
Chai Xiaomi: “???”
What the heck?
She rushed forward a few steps, grabbed the door handle, and pulled—
Locked!?
“Hey, stinky Li-li, what are you doing in Old Ji’s room??”
Inside, there was a brief silence, then Wu Li’s voice came out, lower than usual, as if he was straining to hold something back:
“Practicing the talismans I didn’t finish practicing during the day.”
Chai Xiaomi was about to speak when another voice floated out leisurely, calm and unhurried:
“That’s right, that’s right, Xiaomi girl, you go back to sleep first. In half an hour, this old man will send your husband back.”
His tone was perfectly steady, even carrying a hint of kindly coaxing, like soothing a child.
But Chai Xiaomi stared at the tightly shut door and couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Practicing was one thing—why lock the door? And why come over at this hour to practice talismans at all?
“Open the door. Let me in too. I want to listen in.”
She knocked twice.
Wu Li’s voice came from inside again, smooth as a baoshi leak-proof one: “The talismans I’m practicing tonight are a bit dangerous. With your frail little body, a gust of wind could knock you over. What if you get hurt while nearby? Be good and go to bed. Listen.”
Inside the room.
The White Cat stared at the teenage boy before him, his expression complicated.
Fine beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, a single drop sliding down the corner of his brow and tracing past his jawline. He forced the malevolent energy to gnaw away at his own heart, bit by bit, while struggling to keep his voice steady enough to coax the little girl outside back to her room.
In all the years the White Cat had lived, it had seen many who could endure pain, but never anyone like this.
Even it was starting to feel a bit of sympathy.
More than the suffering itself, it seemed, he was terrified of her seeing him in this state.
The White Cat sighed, a flicker of pity in its eyes. It lifted a paw, smoothed its whiskers, cleared its throat, and called out toward the door, "Now, now... Little Mi, child, listen to this old one's advice."
"Men, well, they have a few days each month when they need to be alone. Just think of it like his time of the month. Go back and boil him some brown sugar water, help replenish his energy and blood, all right?"
Wu Li: "..."
The White Cat met his gaze—those sharp, blade-like eyes of a different hue—and shrank back with a guilty start, lowering its voice to argue, "I'm trying to help you. Don't bite the hand that feeds. See? It's quiet out there now. She's definitely gone off to make you that brown sugar water. It'll be just the thing for your blood loss."
A moment of silence.
Then, from outside the door, came that soft, sweet voice again, but this time tinged with tension: "...Looks like pirates are here."
Wu Li stirred, reaching for his clothes to open the door.
The White Cat was faster, planting a paw firmly on him to keep him in place. Glaring with frustration, it hissed, "You're usually so steady. Can't believe you'd fall for a little girl's pretty words at the drop of a hat!"
It raised its voice to call back outside, "What pirates? Don't try to fool this old—"
Before it could finish—
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
A hail of heavy impacts rained down against the hull, the cabin walls, and the deck, like hailstones battering a roof.
Instantly, shouting and footsteps erupted. Someone outside screamed at the top of their lungs, "Pirates! Pirates!"
The White Cat's ears twitched. Its face went pale.
The pirates' signature tactic: first, hurl spiked chains and iron balls to sink hooks deep into the ship's hull, then let a horde of reckless men swing down on ropes. Those iron balls weighed at least a hundred pounds each. If one hit a person, it could pulverize their bones to dust.
But Wu Li was already gone—out the door.
The moment he stepped out, he froze.
There, sitting pitifully on the deck, was the little girl. She was coated from head to toe in the shattered remnants of a snowball. White clung to her hair, her shoulders, her face, making her look like a rabbit just dug out from a snowdrift.
Right now, she had a hand pressed to her forehead, her face tilted up to him, and her eyes were rapidly pooling with tears.
"It's all your fault for not opening the door."
Chai Xiaomi had just taken a snowball squarely to the face, and she was still dazed. When she realized what had happened, she'd already landed on the ground with a bump, her tailbone aching dully.
Wu Li crouched beside her in a flash, reaching out to brush the snow clogging her bangs from her forehead.
In the darkness, he saw clearly: the girl’s long lashes were crusted with glistening snow, making her look even more like a porcelain doll.
"Does it hurt?"
"What do you think?"
"Serves you right. Not sleeping, running around at this hour."
Her eyes flew wide at that, rounding with indignation. "You're twisting it?! Who's the one not sleeping, sneaking into someone's room in the dead of night? Are you secretly petting that cat behind my back?"
Wu Li paused as he wiped her face clean. "Petting the cat?"
“That White Cat has such great fur for petting, fluffy, soft, and perfect for sniffing too.” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Are you secretly getting your cat fix while I’m not around?”
“Great, now I’ve got a head that’s probably been knocked silly by a snowball.” He muttered under his breath, but his hands resignedly and gently scooped her up from the ground, brushing the snow off her clothes, then lifted her into a bridal carry.
He thought to himself, if he were going to sniff anything, it would only be the soft, fragrant little kitten in his arms. He’d have to be crazy to sniff that old fat cat.
As he moved, he deliberately let her rest against the right side of his chest, avoiding the still-healing emptiness on the left.
