Cub 038: Apologize to Amos? No, He’s Going to Kill Amos!

As a member of the imperial tutor family, Hel had seen a lot and dared to try almost anything.

But this—he had never seen. And certainly wouldn’t try.

What the heck, just taking off his halo like that?

Huh???

First, talking in his head, now trying to give him a dose of frontal shock???

Amos carefully examined the cub’s crown.

Amos frowned slightly.

“Baba can’t see it.”

Little Chu Zao had too many unusual traits compared to an ordinary Crown Clan member. Amos was puzzled, but not surprised.

He looked to Hel.

Looked at his once-arrogant, now dejected former teacher.

“Eh?”

Little Chu Zao gazed at the grey, half-broken thread tangled around his crown.

He reached out and tugged it gently.

After thinking—

He put his halo to his mouth.

“Ni hao?”

Inside Hel’s mind—“Ni hao~”

Then the cub looked at him: Is this how you can hear me?

Hel: …

He’d figured it out.

Hel collapsed, pressing a hand to his temple.

No matter the situation—he could’ve at least maintained a facade of calm. But now, he couldn’t hold it together.

Wasn’t he supposed to be a severe mental patient?

He’d been tormented like this for two days!

Two whole days, Your Majesty!

Still, for once, Hel found that, since he’d been alone, his chronic low mood had imperceptibly lifted after meeting Little Chu Zao.

“I don’t care what kind of method you’ve researched this time—please, can you not keep talking in my head?”

The Crown Clan had always sought to resist fate.

Hel knew this.

He had once fought actively against that fate.

But now he’d given up fighting. He lived only to keep his promise and would see himself fade away naturally, not resisting too much.

So Hel didn’t care about the Crown Clan’s research progress—nor about the cub.

He only cared for his peace.

The cub met Hel’s red eyes and, instinctively, reached up to untangle the thread from his crown.

He watched it drift back into the air.

Little Chu Zao focused hard—he could see lots of drifting threads in the air.

Strands everywhere, the duller the color, the clearer they appeared to him.

He could see threads coming from Amos, too.

But unless he concentrated and used his mental strength, the cub couldn’t see those lines.

He hadn’t tangled them on purpose.

“Sorry, Zao Zao didn’t know,” he said.

The little one hugged his crown to his chest and whispered two more words to it.

Once Hel was sure he couldn’t hear the cub’s voice, he turned to leave without hesitation.

“Teacher, I brought Job and Joshua back.”

Amos stood holding the cub, unmoving.

Hearing that, Hel’s steps faltered.

When Job and Joshua left Holy Cas, Hel and his partner had not yet met misfortune. The twin Crown Clan were the first of Amos’s generation to leave. Back then, Hel had been furious and had demanded their capture and restraint.

Aside from having taught them, the main reason was the future of the Dwight family.

He had worried that if an accident befell them, this generation of the Crown Clan would snowball into collapse.

But now—

Hel stopped, slowly turning around.

“What does Your Majesty want to say?”

With the voice in his head handled, Hel, though still haggard, was calm, even a bit acerbic.

As if deliberately provoking Amos.

“Don’t tell me Your Majesty wants applause?”

He sneered.

“I’m not in that kind of mood—everything here disgusts me, including you, Your Majesty. Please get out of my sight; it’s taking all my restraint not to say ‘get lost.’”

He was already self-abandoning, living for a promise he dared not break, yet still trying to provoke others to end it for him.

Amos was utterly calm.

“No, I just wanted to let you know. That trick only works on Anya in the Dwight family.”

In Amos’s arms, the little cub couldn’t hold back. He sat up, wings flaring, trying to shield Amos from behind.

“Zao Zao already apologized—”

His honey-bright eyes widened in anger at Hel’s insults to Amos.

“You can scold Zao Zao, but Baba did nothing wrong—you can’t talk about Baba like that. Zao Zao apologized, you have to apologize to Baba too!”

The little cub stood up, fur bristling, trying to reason with him.

For the first time, Amos was being defended—by his five-year-old cub. It felt new. He looked at the little one, then glanced at Hel.

Hel, too, was momentarily dazed. He snapped out of it, then gave a faint laugh.

“He’s a Dwight too, right?”

Hel cocked his head: “Only Anya falls for my tricks?”

He retorted.

Wasn’t there another Dwight getting provoked?

“And, I won’t regret what I’ve said.”

Hel turned and left, no hesitation.

Little Chu Zao blinked—he didn’t even get to finish apologizing before Hel left!

A soft little bundle, hugging his ghost bear, wings still ruffled, clearly peeved.

Since being found by Amos, rare was it to see him this angry.

His chubby face puffed up, one cheek rubbing his bear, looking like a little blowfish.

Amos looked down, seeing that puffed-up face. He held the cub with one arm, poking that cheek.

“Upset?”

“He’s Baba’s teacher… he won’t apologize.”

The little cub sulked, lying obediently in Amos’s arms.

He looked much livelier than before.

Seeing those bristled wings, Amos ran a soothing hand along them.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you.”

He’d thought, being nearby, just peeking in wouldn’t lead to much. He hadn’t expected Hel to come out because of Chu Zao.

“It’s not Baba’s fault…”

The cub clung to his bear, looking up at Amos.

Amos said no more, but took him to the medical center.

There, he had the cub’s mental strength checked carefully.

No issues at all. As for the new ability, the medical center’s explanation was this—the cub could manipulate and channel mental strength, was extremely sensitive to it, so in a certain radius, he might unconsciously engage in ‘one-way communication’.

The ‘threads’ the cub saw were his possible communication targets.

“I get it—data line.”

Feiman, who had been there for a while, listened to the whole explanation, raised a finger with her pretty, blank face, her tone clipped.

Then pointed at the cub.

“Data base station.”

Zao, Data-Base-Station, Zao: …

Feiman had a touch of deadpan humor.

She observed the cub, behaving quite reservedly.

She neither hugged him nor did anything particular.

She seemed a very composed Crown Clan.

Amos set the cub down.

His little outfit was wrinkled, so he lifted his arms, pinched a sleeve-tip, and had Amos straighten him up.

Oh…

So cute so cute so cute so cute…

It’s killing me.

Feiman turned, suddenly unsteady on her feet.

—How could he be this cute?

She found a corner and squatted, covering her face—suddenly able to understand why the older generations obsessed over cubs.

“…Ah, where did Second Brother even find such a cute cub?”

She murmured quietly in the empty corner.

“Cute…?”

A baby-voice chimed.

“Is Aunt Feiman talking about Zao Zao?”

Amos was already leading the cub away from the medical center.

Crown Clan senses were sharp.

As the cub’s health returned to normal, he caught things more clearly, faintly picking up the word “cute.”

The cub looked up.

Amos paused, joining the gaze at his oh-so-cool little sister.

For two seconds—

Feiman had already stood up, returned to her cold aloofness.

But seeing those puppy eyes, she finally gave in: “Yes.”

She meant Zao Zao was cute.

And the cub’s eyes brightened.

He seemed a bit shy.

The Crown Clan rarely praised outright, so though everyone knew Chu Zao was adorable, Feiman was the first he’d actually heard it from.

And the cub wasn’t familiar with Feiman either—so it was a surprise.

He whispered, “Can you… say it again?”

His little wings flared, the soft feathers fluffed up.

Feiman went over in a few strides, knelt slightly, voice even and melodious, a rare warmth in her tone.

“Zao Zao is really cute.”

The cub’s eyes went wide and bright, beaming up at her, squeezing his ghost bear tight.

Even after Amos led him away, he waved.

Feiman’s ears were uncontrollably red—too cute.

Just thinking it, she was about to scurry back to her corner to squeal when she saw, at the bend, the little cub take off his halo, twist something on it, and say in a soft voice, “You have to apologize to Baba!”

He took off his halo again. Ha.

Oh—so deathly cute… but terrifying!!!

Feiman went blank for a moment, instinctively rubbing her eyes.

Was she hallucinating?

*

Now that he knew how to use “one-way communication,” the cub was still bothered by Hel’s words.

Zao Zao knew Baba was the best; it wasn’t right to talk about Baba like that.

So, for days, whenever he thought of it—and it didn’t matter whether Hel could hear—he’d wrap his own spiritual thread to Hel’s, and in his mind, kept shouting: You have to apologize to Baba!

Amos and Frey had discussed it, and for now, seeing Hel’s state, neither tried to stop the little one.

They’d also settled on a shortlist of teachers for Chu Zao. Plus, since the cub hadn’t had any childhood companions, the Crown Clan decided to find him a suitable guard from the Imperial Military Academy.

It was one of their family meetings late at night at the Dwight villa.

“The special team members are all good. The Peng family’s youngest is in the group—” Frey looked over the files.

“The ages aren’t too far apart. Any younger kids might not fit.”

“The strongest one’s called Chao Huangmu, I think? I’ve seen his visa application—he’s not an ordinary species, but his race is extinct now. Otherwise he checks out.”

Anya flipped through the dossiers.

“Is Feiman still in the medical center?”

Kaman looked up.

“There’s some issue with Job and Joshua, isn’t there?”

Frey nodded.

“Feiman went to watch them.”

Mentioning this, the atmosphere tensed briefly.

Kaman paused, then changed the topic.

“For the upcoming multi-country summit, is Zao Zao going along?”

“What’s controversial about that?”

Meilun lifted his eyelids, grinning at Amos.

“Wherever His Majesty goes, Zao Zao will be, right?”

At this tease, Amos didn’t even look up. He put his files aside, raised his eyes lazily: “Meeting over. Uncle Meilun, Uncle Kaman, you two can go.”

He stood, walked out.

On the little sofa, the cub was holding up his halo, saying seriously: You have to apologize, Baba did nothing wrong, you have to apologize—

Even though they were getting used to the sight, it still shocked their centuries-long cultural instincts. Gave them the chills.

Amos and Frey knew what was happening; the others were baffled.

Frey explained briefly. At last, he looked at Anya, clapped his shoulder.

“Congrats.”

Anya: ?

Congratulate me for what?

Frey shrugged: “Looks like you’ve got competition for Zao Zao’s most-disliked Crown Clan.”

Anya: …

Lately, Hel was interrupted even more often, his gloom constantly shattered, his head echoing with: You have to apologize… waiting for you to apologize… you need to apologize…

Night fell; Hel stared dazedly at the window.

A soft baby voice in his ear, “You can scold Zao Zao, but you have to apologize to Baba…”

It wasn’t loud or shrill, even pleasant; but the total lack of boundaries as it repeated, again and again, drove him mad.

Thankfully, the cub’s schedule had improved; at least at night, he could sleep a bit.

Hel had tried to provoke Amos with harsh words; now he was equally undone—how had he not foreseen this outcome when he said them?

After he lost his wings, Hel had drifted in a daze, mostly curled up with thoughts that brought him close to breaking, sleeping only after pain and exhaustion. Deep into the night, he’d sleep a bit longer; mostly, it was just this cycle.

So he was always a wreck, always aimless.

But lately, thanks to the cub’s tireless messages, his schedule had weirdly normalized.

At this hour, Hel naturally started to feel drowsy.

He realized—the cub would sleep now too.

Finally.

Hel, in a daze, thought, at last he could rest.

He slowly closed his eyes.

Reminders of loss and pain surfaced as always—his beloved, his severed wings, his dead kin—but this time, they did not pull him into endless despair. He slowly drifted off.

He saw his beloved’s tear-streaked face.

“Hel—live… be well… don’t surrender to fate, that’s not the Hel I knew—”

Hel slumped against the wall, tears slipping quickly away.

Don’t surrender to fate—

Don’t—

But he had no strength left to resist—

To love brought such pain.

A new corner of his crown cracked, on the verge of shattering, but at the last moment, held fast.

Meanwhile, after a busy, active day, Little Chu Zao, exhausted, was barely awake.

He remembered his unfinished mission; his bear didn’t even make it into his arms, just parked by his pillow,

He clutched his little halo, mumbling, “Have to apologize to Baba—”

Amos had been listening for some time.

He bent down and gently kissed the little cub’s brow.

The drowsy cub’s eyes fluttered open, then slowly shut again.

Amos tucked him in, smoothing his hair.

He whispered, “It’s all right. Go to sleep, have a good dream, baby.”

As the cub snuggled into Amos’s arms and drifted off, he didn’t notice his little halo, still wrapped with Hel’s spiritual thread, flashing gently.

Chu Zao slept on, burrowing into Amos’s embrace for warmth, half-lost in dreams—

To be loved, it’s such happiness.

At that moment, Hel, whose crown had stabilized, slept deeply.

No nightmares this time.

He hadn’t slept so well in ages.

He saw a strange place.

Saw an unfamiliar species.

At last, a small, familiar silhouette.

And as soon as he recognized the child, Hel’s head started throbbing.

He knew someone in his mind was speaking again.

But this Chu Zao was even younger than before.

He was like a lost beast, sticking to the shadows as he made his way through a crowd.

The adults ignored him entirely.

Hel frowned.

Something about these folk’s reaction to the child was off.

Finally, the cub stopped at a room.

He peeked his head in.

Inside, an angelic scholar sat with several little angels.

They seemed to be learning.

The symbols were chaotic; Hel couldn’t read them.

He heard the cub’s timid, shivering voice: “Teacher.”

He held up his old notebook, asking, “Can Zao Zao learn from teacher too?”

The angelfolk had basic public courses; any child could attend, but most of the time the cub was pushed to the back.

He’d arranged everything neatly, in a ragged booklet he’d gotten during his first class.

But at a certain age, all angel cubs found their own specialized teachers—elite small-group education.

Good for their race, not so for Little Chu Zao.

“Maybe you should ask another teacher… oh, it’s not about your notes or skills.”

The angel teacher looked at the drooping cub, then at the other angels, an awkward smile on his face.

“The other parents wouldn’t like it.”

Hel’s frown deepened.

What kind of excuse was that?

If you didn’t want to take him, just say so. If you really cared, you’d offer private help after class—

Hel’s annoyance did nothing.

The little cub left this grand building—the last teacher he could ask.

Step by step, he walked out of the fancy district, until, in Hel’s stunned gaze, he arrived at his little, self-made nest.

Drooping wings, the cub sat at the edge.

Hel was about to erupt: “You LIVE out here? Where’s Amos? How’s that brat a qualified parent?”

Then he froze.

He saw the tears gathering in the cub’s eyes.

Clutching his notebook, the little one—for once—got a bit mad, tore the book in half, and tossed it aside. Yet a few seconds later, he wiped away tears, crawled over, picked up the torn book, pieced it back together, sniffling, and put it away.

“It’s alright, it’s alright—tomorrow I’ll have sweet fruit… Zao Zao can eat sweet fruit tomorrow…”

Hel had only been giving up, treating Amos with sharp words, ignoring the cub’s troubles because the little one seemed okay, and he himself had no energy to care.

But now, Hel felt something more than misery—an unfamiliar flare of anger.

This was a Crown Clan cub!

A precious Dwight baby he’d dedicated his life to serve!!

In the night—

Scarlet eyes snapped open.

Hel hesitated, saw the snow-bear by the window yet unmelted.

In his mind, the child’s sleep-murmur echoed:

“Have to… have to apologize…”

So much had he heard it that now he dreamt it, too.

Hel slowly stood.

Amos—

Apologize to Amos…?

Where had that brat been when the cub cried?

Now he must apologize to Amos?

Hel was losing all sense of reality and dream.

He staggered out of his room, but determinedly, resolutely

—He was going to kill Amos!