“Otherwise what?”
Feiman looked at Feeney.
“You have to get something out of it, right?”
Anya followed up, looking downright disgusted.
“You didn’t even give much!”
He ate just as many cookies as Feeney!
Feeney really was a remarkable Crown Clan member—full of curiosity, with an abnormal personality, bizarre luck, and the second strongest among the Crown Clan.
That made him unreliable but incredibly efficient.
There were plenty of Crown Clan who were intentionally or accidentally tormented by Feeney.
And his formidable combat power, combined with Amos’s laziness in managing him, meant he rarely faced setbacks.
But if you don’t push your luck, you won’t get hurt.
The little one, who stuffed the cookie he’d kept into his mouth, chewed away, unable to join the conversation for a moment. When the last cookie ended up in his hand and he swallowed what was in his mouth, the soft little guy in pajamas nodded at himself.
The feeling of “collecting taxes” was awesome.
The little one was so serious, keeping a straight little face, sitting between his aunt and uncle, nodding firmly—his little golden halo wobbling on his head.
“Yes!”
Yes what!
Feeney tossed the tasteless piece of cookie into his mouth. He was about to say something to the cub when Amos looked up—gaze sweeping over.
Feeney: …
Feeney’s pretty doll face looked extra gloomy right now—but honestly, he deserved no sympathy.
Having been hit by the “birthday blessing” from the little cub who only responded to a gentle touch, Amos had already “inoculated” himself—who was there to feel sorry for Amos, who’d borne it all?
The little one, half-understanding, finally finished the last cookie in small bites under his third uncle’s resentful gaze.
The special cookies weren’t too sweet but incredibly fragrant.
So even though the cub was exhausted, he forced himself to eat the last one.
That afternoon nap had given him a bit of rest, but not enough—he had still run after Lien with glowing eyes for an age.
He was already sleepy halfway through the banquet.
The room fell quiet.
Even Amos and Frey had stopped talking.
No special reason—
All the Crown Clan were looking at the little cub on the sofa.
Little Chu Zao’s last cookie was two-thirds eaten, but his eyelids kept drooping, about to fall asleep, still clutching half a cookie.
His tiny hand gripped the cookie, mouth still moving, big eyes already closed, his little head gradually nodding forward onto the cookie, then opening them in a daze to take another nibble—
Over and over.
So sleepy, but wanted to eat—Zao Zao wrestled, half asleep, struggling to finish.
“Your mouth’s covered with crumbs.”
Feiman watched the little one, considering how to steal a kiss right under Amos’s nose.
Anya quietly shielded the cub, watching for a moment, then looked away, unable to resist.
Feeney mumbled: “He’s amazing, eating with his nose—”
Feeney paused, getting another Amos glare, then whispered, “Did I just say something wrong?”
You’ve always said the wrong things—even when not being careful!
But Feeney’s pitiful look only lasted a second, then he grinned at himself, leaned back on the sofa, and checked the time.
Amos had been watching from not far away for a while.
Frey pulled his gaze from the cub to Amos, also hesitating—Amos…was smiling?
Yes—a helpless yet deeply warm smile, rare for him.
Amos had already stepped over to pick the cub up.
Chu Zao still held the bite of cookie.
As Amos picked him up, the dazed cub cracked his eyes.
A half-awake cub was always fun.
If you teased him, he’d just go limp and lean on you.
Realizing it was Amos, Chu Zao tried to open his eyes, then shoved the last piece of cookie into Amos’s mouth.
“Baba, taste, baba eat—”
The little one’s milky, sleepy voice was barely intelligible.
Amos hadn’t been prepared, so the cub managed to ambush him—Zao Zao had actually stuffed food from his own mouth into Amos’s, for once.
Amos held that bite, looked at the filial cub in his arms, hesitated for a moment, then crunched and swallowed it.
A truly dutiful son.
Amos carried the cub upstairs.
When his silhouette was gone around the corner,
The remaining Crown Clan in the lounge couldn’t suppress their laughter.
There was a food chain in this house; Amos was at the top. But now Amos had found his “nemesis”—kid, you just crammed that right into your dad’s mouth?
And in the tall trees not far from Dwight Palace,
Among the dense branches, a pair of crimson eyes faintly caught the night’s light and reflections.
Lien hadn’t come close—he hid in the shadows, quietly watching the lights of Dwight Palace.
With Crown Clan’s keen senses, he listened hard, just barely able to make out the gentle laughter inside.
At ease—joyful—
Lien hid in darkness, like some gloomy mushroom peering in on someone else’s happiness.
After a while, Lien looked up at the sky.
His voice was soft—“Clansis… Solan… was our decision the right one?”
Lien was incredibly good at hiding—the best among the Crown Clan. And to hide even better, he made extensive arrangements; his troops, all of similar temperament, moved in complete silence. He gathered all kinds of information.
“Power and status really do corrode people, and much faster than I thought—”
Much faster than Lien imagined.
Thinking over the things he’d discovered since returning, those radical families—increasing their influence, and even reacting poorly to the little cub’s return… that had already drawn Amos’s attention.
Right now, the high-level human situation on Cas Emperor Star was nothing like when Lien left.
With what he knew of Amos, and how Clansis trained him—
If Amos decided not to let things go, he’d act quickly and leave no room for negotiation.
Cheng Xuan probably realized it too—they were standing in opposition to Amos now.
But whether it was the forces behind Cheng Xuan, those plan-participating families, or always-intense Amos, the conflict between both sides was almost irreconcilable. Tensions were about to explode.
But Lien didn’t expect—even Cheng Xuan, so fanatical about Clansis, now felt subtly different to him.
Was Cheng Xuan corrupted too?
Or still executing the future plans for Holy Cas?
Only with extra ambition and strength—could Holy Cas live on without the Crown Clan.
He should have stayed out of it, not made such a firm conclusion—that’s what he’d agreed with Clansis years ago.
Lien’s silver-black crown hovered above—already crumbling.
He was in the best shape of his generation, but even so, very fragile—more fragile than others thought.
Because of his personality, Lien had never sought the cub’s help for his crown.
He just kept doing what he always did—enduring the pain and despair of a collapsing crown, quietly observing everything.
But now—Lien looked into the distance.
He needed to dig deeper—to figure out what exactly Cheng Xuan and those people were doing.
Only then would he decide if he needed to act.
He looked at his fingertips, recalling the feeling when that soft little cub held them.
Thinking nothing could ever move him again, Lien felt his cheeks unusually hot, and quickly disappeared from the tree.
Meanwhile, with the little cub,
Chu Zao was now fully groggy, washed up, sprawled on the soft bed and falling asleep fast.
He vaguely heard Amos say something—maybe that he had to take care of some business and that uncle Frey would watch him.
At this point, Chu Zao could barely think straight. Instinctively, he waved his hand to say goodnight to Amos.
Then he noticed a strand of mental strength in the air—he’d chased this thread several times before. His reflex was to grab it, clutch it tight, then close his eyes and soon doze off.
Amos left the room.
Downstairs, the other Crown Clan all looked up at him.
“Anya, take your team to handle the tip-offs regarding the Hymn Organization’s activities.”
The Hymn Organization had indeed tried to stir trouble during National Day, but failed—some of their fanatics had been dealt with, others had fled.
Whether the main members of the organization were involved was still unknown.
Holy Cas was handling it, just not publicly.
Now that National Day was over, the Crown Clan were free to act.
He sent Anya to clean up the rest.
Anya replied, turning to leave.
“Are the families involved in the Holy Cas future plan surrounded and under control?”
Amos looked at Frey.
“All units are secured—just waiting for your orders.”
Frey replied.
“But it’s quite a few people.”
Feeney laughed—“Indulgence and tolerance have blown some people’s ambition out of proportion. Cleaning them out is honestly a bit troublesome.”
“But they don’t seem too united anymore. Should we sweep them all out at once?”
Feiman tilted her head.
Remove the ringleaders, strip the rest of power and wealth, and reassign those unlikely to revolt ever again.
“They recruited way too many people.”
Amos didn’t hesitate: “Take care of it.”
Amos’s face was cold, his scarlet eyes narrowing. The primal guardian of his cub, without a shred of doubt: “I don’t trust them.”
From the start of his reign, Amos never bothered with these people—mostly Clansis’s old clique, for whom he’d never had any trust. He wouldn’t allow anything to threaten his cub.
Though the Crown Clan themselves didn’t see these “threats” as much.
His Zao Zao had a long future—Amos was sure of that. Those who wanted to seize power after him naturally became Amos’s enemies.
Feiman lowered her eyes. “Yes.”
Feeney laughed lightly: “You’re right, second brother. Everything else can wait—for Zao Zao, all this must stop.”
With the Crown Clan once on the edge of extinction, they hadn’t cared about “after us, the flood,” until Little Chu Zao appeared. A numb, frozen Crown family sat there for ages, sluggish to react, then scurried clumsily to coax the cub, to plan for his future.
*
It was late, but many people were still awake.
Ling Family.
“Absurd. Absolutely absurd,” the Ling family head slammed his pen down again. “What on earth is the Chairman thinking?! Siding with those people? Competing with the little prince?! The Chairman has changed so fast—compared to two months ago, no, even one month ago he’s not the same at all. The little lord has already shown his ability, so what if he’s a little gentler? Shouldn’t we just slow down, hold back, and wait—hundreds or thousands of years, until the little prince can’t go on and there aren’t other Crown Clan left before considering new plans?”
Across from him, the other dissenting families looked just as worried.
These plans had been inherited since Clansis’s reign, passed down over centuries, as the Crown Clan faded away. Some, secretly, were excited by it, but families like them were outnumbered.
Everything moved forward relentlessly, and though they wanted to slow, couldn’t stop it.
“We should do as you said, but some can’t let go—too much fantasy, they just can’t stop. Always going on about Clansis’s plans, but they’ve already betrayed it—they just won’t wait for the little prince to grow up!”
“What now? Report again to His Majesty Amos?”
Someone scratched his head hard.
“I think it’s too late. His Majesty Amos won’t trust us—and even if we object, we’re already tied to them.”
“It is too late—”
The head of the Ling family said heavily.
“Or maybe it was always too late. From the start, Amos never accepted any of us. Have you noticed his recent signals? No more recruiting, activity across the planets is limited—friends, a new era is coming.”
He stood up.
“Any talent we take will be suppressed; when replacements come, they’ll be the ones Amos picked for the little prince’s own power base. As for us… friends, let’s just hope Amos will spare us since we tried not to be like those others.”
Suddenly the door burst open.
A dark-eyed boy stood there.
His face was grim as he stepped in: “Father, Teacher would never do that—we’re always loyal to the Crown Clan.”
Ling Ye’s voice was ice-cold.
The family head looked at his youngest, exhaling long.
“Of course I hope so—but things aren’t up to us now.”
This plan, running since Clansis’s rule, was now a snowball out of control—bringing only blood and struggle in Amos’s eyes.
Ling Ye turned to go: “I’m going to find Teacher. I need to ask him directly.”
“Hey—”
The patriarch hurried after, only to see Ling Ye leap straight out the window. He sighed.
“Let’s do something—friends, let’s do whatever we can.”
*
In the night of Holy Cas, countless shadows had begun to move.
In a secret meeting room,
A few families were deep in discussion with Xijin across the table.
Xijin smiled gently the whole time, only betraying sharpness now and then: “I quite understand your feelings. The Crown Clan really are nearing the end. I arranged with the Chairman for this room, no one will know, and the Chairman’s not here—say whatever you want, discuss any collaboration.”
“Judge Xijin, that’s exactly it—we’ve held back too long. For Clansis’s plan, our families started back in my grandfather’s time. Maybe we’ve not succeeded, but we’ve worked hard enough. Now we’re suppressed? The Crown Clan are disappearing; how many princes have we lost over the years?”
Someone finally went off.
“And our own development doesn’t get in the way of the little prince, does it?”
“Even if it does, isn’t that proof—proof how well we’ve executed Clansis’s plan? If the little prince can’t support Holy Cas alone… I mean, not that I’m against the Crown Clan, but this prince came out of nowhere—too sudden.”
“And the star system keeps getting polluted. I heard there was a near-miss last time. If you shoot down all our plans and something goes wrong—what then? Amos doesn’t plan to leave us any room at all.”
With few others around, they all vented their grievances fully.
Xijin smiled, the faint scent of incense burning at her hand, echoing the words of these people, who were now lost at the top, believing their path normal. Then, as if offhandedly, she spoke:
“Speaking of pollution, the kind harmful to the Crown Clan is spreading again. It’s now moved onto some military academy training planets, and the monstrous beast armies have grown even larger. I heard the little prince will go register at the academies soon? He’s young, but still—he’ll take part in some activities, I imagine?”
“This…”
Someone hesitated.
They exchanged glances. It was like crossing a forbidden line—no one dared respond easily.
“Gentlemen—”
A cold voice rang out.
“To be honest, I can’t listen to this any longer.”
The voice belonged to none of them.
All froze with terror.
A wave of darkness seeped from the edges, silently enveloping the still-smiling Xijin.
Panic flashed in Xijin’s eyes—she tried to resist, but in the next instant was completely swallowed.
A figure emerged slowly from the black mist.
A gloomy face bearing a mocking sneer; eyes icy.
“Lien… Your Highness…?”
“Wh—why—”
The halo atop Lien’s head glowed faintly; his scarlet eyes even brighter.
“Your deviation from the path has been confirmed. You have betrayed the Holy Cas Empire. If you insist on arguing—”
Black “mist” swept from Lien’s side—
But it was not fog; these were countless tiny silver-black particles—Lien’s unique mental weapon.
Lien’s pupils glowed in the dark—
“Please go explain it to Clansis in person—”
A faintly bloody scent filled the air.
Lien stood in a pool of blood, eyes lowered. His troops had rushed in to secure the rest.
He remained in place: “Investigate all information on the Northern Free Federation, and the incense—report everything else to His Majesty Amos—”
“Your Highness Lien—as of now, His Majesty Amos has acted.”
A subordinate reported, bowing.
Lien looked over, surprised.
“All involved in the Holy Cas future plan are now under military control. Anya is chasing a Hymn Organization lead, and it turns out Speaker Cheng Xuan had connections to Hymn. He’s been officially branded a traitor—missing from his home. The rest of the plan’s ringleaders are all wanted.”
All this happened within half an hour.
Lien was taken aback, checked StarNet—StarNet had exploded, especially among Holy Cas citizens.
Their hatred for the “future plan” was at an all-time high.
Lien took it all in, letting out a soft “ah.”
His halo flashed, the edges still crumbling.
He just turned in place, habitually seeking a small dark corner.
Really, a breaking crown was agony for Lien.
He gazed at the sky—
He should have stayed out of it.
But, Clansis, that was a mistake. We underestimated greed’s corrosion.
Nor should ambition and strength be supreme virtues.
Lien was dejected—he knew his crown wouldn’t hold out, but didn’t want to go to Little Chu Zao just yet.
He just wanted to hide away, quietly for a while.
Dejected mental energy wobbled along a spiritual thread.
In the royal palace,
The little cub holding a thread of spiritual energy seemed disturbed, his watery amber eyes blinking open.
The soft little cub blinked sleepily—huh?
It was like he heard someone crying, very softly.
He looked around, confused, then met Frey’s gaze at the bedside.
“Uncle?”
“Mm?”
Frey was busy but looked over at the little cub’s voice, stunned to see him awake.
“Zao Zao, why are you up at this hour?”
The little one blinked, then very slowly sat up: “Where’s Baba?”
His voice was hoarse.
“Amos had some things to handle.”
Frey replied, and stood up to get him water.
Chu Zao dazedly peered around, then looked down—hm, Zao Zao had caught a dusty, rather dejected spiritual thread.
He looked up—then, after a few seconds, looked down again.
Huh?
When did Zao Zao grab this????
He was confused.
And—the spiritual thread was so sad, he hadn’t recognized whose it was.
Thinking hard, he tried to break up someone’s late-night emo.
The thread twined around the cub’s crown.
Little Chu Zao softly spoke toward it, “Ni hao?”
Hiding in the corner, Lien: I’m not okay…?
Wait, why did I just hear Ni hao?
Lien slowly straightened up.
Suspiciously looked around.
——“Ni hao?”
The little cub’s soft milky voice echoed in his head, too close for comfort—
Lien: Wait a second, oh, it’s that cub’s voice…no, but WHY????