Cub 043: Thanks to the Gifts of Nature!

Little Chu Zao had already gotten used to the sour taste—it wasn’t as if the cubs ever got to eat anything too sour.

This fruit was rich in nutrients, and as they hadn’t found a better substitute yet, it was always in little Chu Zao’s basket.

The basic requirement for the little one was just to take a few bites if he could, though once in a while he’d get to eat something sweeter.

But ever since the cub discovered that, whenever he handed sour fruit to Amos, Amos would quietly eat it all, most of the sour fruit had ended up in Amos’ belly.

Unexpectedly, he got tricked by Amos today.

The cub glared at Amos with puffed cheeks, hugging Ghost Bear, a pair of big, clear eyes filled with accusation.

After “bullying” the cub, Amos stayed unmoved under the gazes of the other Crown Clan, but facing the little one’s accusing look, His Majesty, always so decisive, seemed a bit guilty for once. He reached over, found the little one’s snack bag, and popped a candy into Chu Zao’s mouth.

Chu Zao kept glaring, still deciding how to accuse Amos for this conduct, when a sweet, fragrant candy was suddenly given to his lips.

Chu Zao instinctively: “Awooo——”

After eating it, the cub returned to his senses and just stared blankly at Amos.

The little cub’s white, soft cheeks bulged out, still holding that colorful fruit both father and son had already bitten into. He thought for a moment, and decided the crime couldn’t be offset, so he continued to glare at Amos while sucking on the candy, his babyish voice full of anger: “Baba, it’s sour!”

The cub raised his little hand high, still clutching the fruit, accusing Amos, mouth still full of candy, voice slightly muffled, still hugging Ghost Bear and leaning against Amos.

Too soft-hearted.

All the Crown Clan looked over.

This time, the ninth group army was still in charge of escorting. As for directing the route, they didn’t need Crown Clan input. Apart from the initial orders, they were idle now.

Usually, when Crown Clan gathered, it was either talk of pollution or the powers and development they now knew, or beast army activity everywhere.

Rarely were there other sounds.

Hel sat upright, not in Holy Cas military uniform but a noble cut with golden fringe, appearing even more cultured and distinguished. He didn’t look at Chu Zao, but slightly turned his head.

Frey quietly held his coffee; Feiman leaned lazily on the sofa, staring fixedly at Chu Zao; Anya lounged with legs crossed, working on a smart pad and occasionally glancing at Chu Zao.

To the Crown Clan, Chu Zao was truly so tiny.

This little act of raising the fruit and babbling accusations was like a cub growing used to his surroundings and acting spoiled.

The previously cautious, careful cub had changed.

Any one of the Crown Clan who saw this scene would have their heart melt.

Amos held his laughter in, lowered his head, and took bites from the fruit that had made Chu Zao whimper and howl.

In the cub’s hands, the fruit had looked big, but Amos finished it in a couple bites.

Anya whispered, “Brother Amos, you’re so bad.”

It reminded Anya of Amos swindling them years ago—Amos had always been a bit sly and easygoing, always mischievous. Only after becoming emperor and after the previous generation’s tragedies did the heavy mood envelope the Crown Clan, hiding their real character.

But little Chu Zao, hearing this, instantly turned toward Anya to quietly protest.

“No, he’s not…”

“What?”

Candy still in his mouth, voice soft, and with the starship not fully out of Holy Cas planetary space, crossing the atmosphere, some outside noise made even the sharp-eared Crown Clan unsure what the little boy had said.

Amos looked down at the little one.

The cub looked at the core of the fruit, tossed it in the trash, took out a pale yellow fruit, and nibbled at it.

Then he raised this fruit high again, offering it to Amos.

Is this one sour too?

Pretty tough.

Amos thought, but bent to take a bite without complaint.

A fragrant, sweet flavor flooded his mouth, quickly covering the sourness of the last fruit.

The metal feather pen Amos had been idly spinning paused.

“Baba, this one’s sweet, so you won’t feel sour now.”

Chu Zao snuggled against Amos, eyes curving in a smile.

So good.

“How can you be so good—was there some kind of sleeping drug in the last fruit?”

Feiman, always observant, whispered, eyes fixed wolfishly on Chu Zao.

Chu Zao didn’t even dare meet Feiman’s eyes, shrank up with his basket of fruit, pressing himself as close to Amos as possible. Even his little halo was hidden away, only his wings poking out.

Feiman: …

No!

It shouldn’t be like this!

“Your Majesty, we have left Holy Cas planetary space; the surrounding civilian starships are requesting to join the convoy.”

Ninth army commander Yemeng strode in.

Amos replied: “Approved.”

He finished speaking, then picked up Chu Zao.

The cub instinctively wrapped his arms around Amos’ neck. Amos made his way to the observation window.

A press of a button and the window, made of special material, projected the starry sky outside, as if they were looking right through the hull into the vast cosmos.

Out in the deep star sea, the mighty Ninth Army starships, bearing their insignia, sailed, and the little cub’s eyes grew wide.

In the distance, another long convoy was waiting.

They were unlike the military ships—no heavy armament, bearing vivid Holy Cas banners, flowing like a river of stars, merging into the Holy Cas fleet. Countless voices sounded from the command post signal receiver.

“This is Starfish Commerce, at designated position, saluting you, offering all for the glory of Holy Cas!”

“Dust Drifter at designated position, loyal to His Majesty Amos, may Empire and Crown shine forever!”

“Military Academy Training Escort at designated position, at your command, sworn to defend the Crown Clan!”

“……”

Amos stood there, all of the Crown Clan rising behind him, watching the shrinking Holy Cas planetary direction, but no one replied.

Chu Zao was still too little. He’d never truly merged with any large group, unable to fully express his feelings. It ought to be a grand and awe-inspiring moment—in the timeless silent universe, all these voices echoing.

Until the last voice.

Somehow a little emotional.

“Holy Cas Mining Planet 78 Mining Ship at designated position, glory to the sacred Crown!”

The cub put his little hand on the hull, heard the voice, and looked up at Amos.

“Baba, it’s Uncle Wen and Aunt Wen.”

Wen Qingfeng and Wen Qingyu, too, were representing their mining planets at this conference.

Amos nodded.

“I’ll let you meet them later.”

“Mm-mm.”

Chu Zao nodded and turned back to look outside.

“Grandpa Mori said, this time of year, it’s still not warm enough to plant potatoes in the yard. Zao Zao doesn’t know if they’ve planted their potatoes yet this time.”

Official Holy Cas news had announced that all unauthorized ships were banned from the lane, and the fleet made its way through the starry sea. Occasional conversations came by.

Chu Zao watched for a long while, finally getting sleepy, and drifted off on the small couch Amos had moved over.

All the Crown Clan quietly handled affairs around him, sometimes looking up to “recharge” on the sight of him. The mood was unexpectedly peaceful and harmonious.

The sleeping cub hugged Ghost Bear, nuzzling him, still unaware of all the loyalty and expectation, just feeling—this was a good place.

Chu Zao had never seen anywhere better than Holy Cas.

*

Nearby the neutral planet where the conference would take place.

The Boel Alliance Revolutionary Fleet had already arrived.

The leader Lin Yuan sat at the highest seat.

He leaned back, eyes narrowed, holding a bottle of reddish-brown gas.

“So this is it? The element that activates something effective against the Crown Clan?”

Across from him, a hooded Hymn Organization member kept hands folded on his chest.

“Of course. Though the earlier measure was triggered ahead of time, we’d already prepared for that. Amos seems tougher than we thought—under that psychic upheaval, he should have begun collapsing a week or two ago, but there’s been no word from the Holy Cas Empire. Of course, it could be they’re covering it up, but it doesn’t matter. Use this, and, under all the live broadcasts, the image of that Holy Cas tyrant’s psychic collapse will spread across the stars, out of the Empire’s control.”

“It really is amusing.”

Lin Yuan laughed, sitting as though on a throne.

Boel Alliance’s system was totally different from Holy Cas.

Boel had no emperor, but a president—not drifters under the protection of long-lived races, full of class segregration and inner strife. Allegedly an “alliance,” but with old and new nobles and—with the Spirit Eye Race as the hereditary presidents.

The Spirit Eye Race, though, had lost half in various attacks. After years of internal collapse, they’d sheltered on hidden planets, and—thanks to Lin Yuan’s cooperation—most had been purged by the Hymn Organization, only a single line remaining.

The Boel heartland and a few satellites stayed under Spirit Eye control, but Lin Yuan’s reach was much wider.

This time, the old president hadn’t come; his only son had.

“I’ll follow the plan. If I can smear the Holy Cas Emperor across the stars and disrupt his mind, it’ll help my expansion. I hadn’t thought the Spirit Eye clan would dare show up—but this time, I’ll take the Boel core worlds as well.”

“They’re a long-lived race—they have power we can’t imagine. They stole the power of gods, usurping their place. Don’t underestimate them.”

The Hymn leader stood.

He had no intention of joining in with Lin Yuan’s struggle, only to watch from afar.

Last time, they’d failed to kill that little Crown cub, and Holy Cas had censored all the news. This time they knew the Crown Clan would be fiercely protected, so would only see if they could strangle that tender Crown sprout once Amos went out of control.

He watched Lin Yuan with intrigue from under his hood—

Lin Yuan went on:

“Relax.”

He laughed quietly.

“I’ve set up other armies, spread out in ambush—let the Crown Clan riot, take care of the Spirit Eye boy, and the Crown Clan footage—You’re already handling that surviving Crown Prince, right? Divide a nation by culture, crush their spirit, and with the cards we hold, it’ll all go smoothly.”

“Let’s hope so.”

*

Among the vast stars.

“Aiya, aiya, why aren’t we there yet? Wasn’t it supposed to be three days? It’s already another three days!”

The Holy Cas Third Army Group was still lost in space.

Feeney Dwight, full beard masking half his face, slammed his command desk.

He scratched his head, and snapped a chunk off the desk for stress relief—it was already chewed up from previous episodes.

Afterward, Feeney seemed cheered up, and he grinned.

“Aiya, pollution zones and blockades everywhere—maybe we got lost somewhere we shouldn’t be? Can’t even send a message! Ah… Amos is gonna kill me! Is getting lost my fault? It’s not!!”

The entire army had left for home weeks ago, but was yet to return.

Sounds a bit like mutiny…

Heavens, judge me fairly!

Feeney wrung his hair—what else? He felt he’d forgotten something.

But he wanted to find the way back above all, and after their orders, they’d lost contact with the Empire. He’d forgotten that important thing.

His deputy was already used to it.

Feeney Dwight, the most unpredictable of the Crown Clan: temperament mercurial, one moment laughing, the next possibly raging; both reliable and unreliable, twisting the mood of all those near.

Just like the Third Army.

The deputy wiped his brow.

“Shouldn’t be, is it interstellar interference? We pushed through a heavy pollution field and even took some hits from beasts. I’ll check if the sensors were damaged when that happened.”

Feeney waved his hand, limp: “Hurry, hurry.”

Mid-sentence—

Third Army’s general officer rushed over.

“Prince Feeney! Unknown drifter planet detected ahead! Garrison detected, unidentified; they’re firing dispersal missiles. Should we investigate?”

“?”

Feeney looked up.

“What planet?”

“A drifter planet.”

“And they’re firing on us with no warning?”

Feeney, already frustrated, boiled over.

“What’s with this nonsense?”

Anyway, they were already on route to the conference planet; unidentified garrisons firing warning shots couldn’t be up to much.

His keen war sense immediately took over.

“Never mind, we’ve never talked sense—fire back!”

A Boel Alliance revolutionary squad was monitoring the stars near the drifter planet.

“Well? Did the intruding fleet leave?”

“Seems so—no more signals detected.”

“Good, keep in touch with HQ, lay low. Fire warning shots if anyone draws near, don’t expose your identity.”

Their commander was saying—

Then the temporary outpost erupted in explosions and fire.

“What’s going on?!”

“Enemy attack! Quick, contact HQ!!”

“Bad, communications are down!!”

Can’t detect signals—perhaps the other side’s gone into battle stealth mode.

As their base collapsed, a huge force appeared on the horizon.

On the scanners, every unmarked ship suddenly took the Crown shape—

“It’s, it’s Crown Clan! Holy Cas military!!”

Finally, Feeney landed from the ship, kicking at ruins.

So where on earth had he ended up?!

“Prince Feeney, all the prisoners are here—”

“Prince Feeney, ID checks ongoing, but one thing, the local boss keeps begging for mercy—they claim to have met another Crown Prince.”

Feeney: ?

Huh?

Something weird again??

*

It would take the Holy Cas fleet a day and night to reach the neutral planet.

Only after a day and night of rest would conference events begin.

The Holy Cas group landed and went to their area for a break.

Compared to the lively public coverage everywhere else, things were much lower-key for the Crown Clan.

Little Chu Zao’s existence was not officially announced yet, for many reasons. Not only out of safety, but because of how to announce him. They’d considered many grand ways, none seemed formal enough.

He was the only Crown cub born in centuries—a precious little Dwight, the clan’s vulnerability, hope, and treasure.

No one disagreed about that.

When the cub, still asleep, disembarked, Frey secretly carried him off.

Amos made a brief live appearance, then quickly left.

The Holy Cas representatives weren’t disappointed—on the contrary, quite excited.

His Majesty wasn’t someone you just meet every day.

“But… after His Majesty, what should we do? We have no little highness…”

An elegant businessman sighed to a guildmate.

“I dare not imagine.”

“The Crown Clan emperor and princes must have their reasons. Some doubted our Empire’s system, but now it’s the greatest in the galaxy.”

Someone echoed.

“No gloom now—look at the young mining planet reps, achieving so much so young; heroes indeed are born early.”

Little highness?

Yes, some of them had met him, and he’d even eaten the potatoes given him.

Little highness was a brave, adorable Crown cub—nothing could make a citizen prouder.

Wen Qingfeng was grinning sheepishly; Wen Qingyu poked him with an elbow.

Then Wen Qingyu politely mingled.

The Crown’s residence was far from the bustle.

Chu Zao had watched the stars in amazement most of the trip, using the occasion to learn astronomy from Hel, then finally fell into a deep sleep hugging Ghost Bear.

He woke to a ruckus outside.

He’d been jolted from his slumber.

The cub groggily sat up from the soft bedding and yawned, still half-asleep, still dazed, hugging Ghost Bear, his curly black hair wild as ever, eyes misty, cheeks flushed, arms and legs stretching, his halo lighting up.

Zao Zao starting up—

What’s going on?

No sooner had the noise within been noticed than the argument outside the door paused and someone knocked softly.

“Zao Zao, are you awake?”

It was Anya’s voice.

Amos hadn’t returned; Frey was covering his shift; Hel was in the living room having tea; leaving Chu Zao alone with his two most avoided, least-liked people—Feiman and Anya, bickering at the door about who should knock.

A total scramble.

Hel blew on his tea and sighed.

“Zao Zao’s awake.”

From inside came the cub’s dozy voice.

“I told you, he’s slept long enough. Of course he’s up.”

Anya said.

He opened the door.

Feiman, face cold, muscled forward unwillingly.

Then both of them froze.

The Chu Zao they usually saw had always been tidied up by Amos. Amos, whose own hair was a mass of curls, knew how to do Chu Zao’s hair and was used to prepping his wings each morning, so the usual Zao Zao was neat and pretty.

Now, waking up, stretching in disarray, the cub looked quite rough.

Hair wild, wings tousled, dazed and not awake.

Seeing them, his wings snapped shut, hugging Ghost Bear tight, retreating a bit.

Still sleepy, his baby voice called out: “Auntie, uncle…?”

Feiman: …

Oh heavens, so deadly—this is what I get for staking out his door!

Feiman shoved past Anya to rush in.

The cool beauty started digging in her pockets for candy.

Her deep, striking look was always imposing no matter what she did.

“Zao Zao, here, auntie has some candy for you.”

Anya: …

Anya squeezed in, refusing to lose out.

“This is from your uncle—two bags!”

Feiman: …

“Auntie’s got some more here—three bags!”

“Well I’ve got a fourth bag!”

The Crown Clan’s weird competitiveness was on full display.

—Who knew they just wanted to secretly slip the cub some candy and win back position in his heart.

Chu Zao looked at the bags piling up on his blankets—a mountain of temptation for a five-year-old—

But he’d promised Baba. And Teacher Hel had warned him—these were “sugar-coated bullets.” He wouldn’t—

He couldn’t hold back. He reached out, dove into the heap of candy, eyes sparkling.

—Awoo! Thanks be to Mother Nature!

Anya and Feiman nearly started fighting.

Plainly, Anya was losing; Feiman was taking the upper hand.

Suddenly, a pair of hands reached in, grabbed both Anya and Feiman, and threw them bodily out the door.

Amos had appeared, and now looked at the mountain of candy by the bed and the small boy sprawled atop it—how many bags had those two stashed on themselves?

Chu Zao looked at Amos, then at the candy.

At last, Amos held out his hand, and Chu Zao passed him a bag.

Chu Zao puffed up his cheeks.

“Baba, do you have to take it all away?”

Anya and Feiman had already been made to stand facing the wall in shame.

Hel was over there, struggling not to laugh.

“Your Majesty, you’re becoming a villain.”

Seizing the cub’s candy, and tricking him into eating sour fruit.

Amos pocketed another bag, lazily, not at all concerned: “Yeah.”

But the cub suddenly stood up.

“Not a villain.”

“Hmm?”

Amos looked instinctively at his disheveled cub.

The boy, hugging his little Ghost Bear, stood on the bed. This time, he didn’t care about the candy; he first looked at Hel, then at Amos, eyes especially earnest.

“Baba’s not a villain—Baba’s the best Baba—Zao Zao likes Baba the most…”