Xiao Hei (the little black cat) easily grasped Lan Tuan’s (the little blue cat) disjointed speech.
—Was it true that evolving into a fully realized form could preserve one’s self without succumbing to their primal instincts, or was it a lie?
With the skepticism in Lan Tuan’s voice, Xiao Hei suspected it was implying he was lying to everyone. His gaze grew intense, his usual golden eyes blending into the night with a cool glint.
Lan Tuan instinctively took a step back but then held its ground, lifting its head stubbornly to meet Xiao Hei’s eyes, a silent demand: either kill me or give me an answer.
The air grew tense, but Xiao Hei didn’t relent in his pressure. Just as Lan Tuan could barely withstand it, Xiao Hei suddenly threw out a seemingly unrelated question.
“The land is different from the sea. Why did you come here?”
Lan Tuan was caught off guard and instinctively replied, “For Wen Xin.”
Xiao Hei gave a short, humorless laugh. “You’re saying you came for Wen Xin?”
His tone shifted, carrying an edge of coldness and undisguised sharpness. “And what connection could you possibly have with him?”
Xiao Hei’s attitude toward Lan Tuan had always been colder than toward the others. Wen Xin thought it was because both of them were naturally lazy; they rarely interacted, lying around in their own spaces most of the time, creating a natural distance.
But that wasn’t it.
Xiao Hei’s coldness toward Lan Tuan stemmed from something peculiar about it, along with its inexplicable attachment to Wen Xin. Other creatures had at least gone through a process of bonding with Wen Xin, but not Lan Tuan, who had traveled all the way from the sea just to cling to Wen Xin like a koala bear. Even Ah Jiu (the canary) couldn’t pull it off.
For ten hours, Lan Tuan latched on to Wen Xin like a stubborn sticker. In the end, it was only Wen Xin noticing it had nearly dehydrated that forced him to peel it off. The scene had alarmed him, and only after quickly “peeling” Lan Tuan off along with his clothes did he narrowly avoid disaster.
Seeing the clingy behavior of a complete stranger to Wen Xin puzzled not just Xiao Hei but also the other creatures at first. However, their caution didn’t last long, and soon they became close with Lan Tuan.
The heartwarming moment went something like this:
The group: “What do you think of Wen Xin?”
Lan Tuan, without hesitation: “Wen Xin is good.”
They all perked up. “Yeah, we think Wen Xin is great too! You’re a good companion; you have good taste!”
Remembering that simple scene, Xiao Hei couldn’t help but feel exasperated.
He still couldn’t fathom why, despite their shared past of hardship, these mutants trusted so easily.
Xiao Hei sighed inwardly, his expression remaining impassive as he continued to watch Lan Tuan, waiting for a real explanation.
Increasing his pressure, he made Lan Tuan emit a quiet whimper. As Lan Tuan’s legs began to buckle, a soft, ocean-blue glow appeared around it, forming a shield that blocked the pressure.
Lan Tuan caught sight of the glow and looked up in alarm. “No, don’t appear…”
But the glow didn’t stop gathering. Within seconds, a tiny, transparent whale appeared, hovering in midair. It exuded a soft, ancient blue light, like a serene spirit of the sea.
When Xiao Hei’s gaze met the whale’s, there was no surprise on his face.
Or rather, from the start, his questions had been aimed at someone else entirely.
The whale seemed to understand this, letting out a quiet sigh. “You’re powerful, but why trouble a cub who knows nothing?”
Lan Tuan, the “innocent cub,” anxiously extended its paw, trying to hide the whale.
“You can’t be here!”
The whale gently patted Lan Tuan’s head with its fin. “We’ve been discovered already, silly child.”
Lan Tuan hesitated, turning to gauge Xiao Hei’s reaction.
Xiao Hei merely flicked his tail, not denying the whale’s words.
Seeing Lan Tuan’s shocked expression, the whale’s tone softened further. “Weren’t you going to say goodbye to the human? Go ahead.”
“But…” Lan Tuan glanced at Xiao Hei, still awaiting an answer.
The whale, as if reading its thoughts, coaxed it like a patient elder. “What he said before was true. Go on.”
Only after hearing this did Lan Tuan nod slowly and turn to leave.
Xiao Hei watched quietly, neither speaking nor attempting to stop Lan Tuan as the whale nudged it along.
Once Lan Tuan’s presence faded, Xiao Hei spoke calmly. “San Hao, perhaps you can enlighten me too.”
“Did sending your spirit onto No. 18 and dispatching it here signify a declaration of war?”
No. 18 was, of course, Lan Tuan.
Xiao Hei’s words were accompanied by a wave of mental pressure, crashing down like the sea. Compared to his previous intimidation, this attack was on a whole different level.
The whale nearly toppled under the assault, managing only with difficulty to steady itself. Meeting Xiao Hei’s intense gaze, its expression hardened.
For a long time, it had misunderstood Xiao Hei’s intentions.
Assuming Xiao Hei allowed Lan Tuan to stay by Wen Xin’s side as a sign of acceptance, it hadn’t anticipated that Xiao Hei had never let his guard down. He had been waiting for this moment, to confront the “puppet master” directly.
Not wanting to escalate matters, the whale lowered its tone, earnestly explaining, “I had no intention of challenging you.”
Mutants—especially high-level ones like Xiao Hei and itself—had a powerful sense of territoriality. Violating another’s territory was a serious offense, often a reason to start a conflict.
If handled poorly, it could even lead to an all-out war between two S-class entities.
The whale had no interest in provoking a battle with Xiao Hei.
After a pause, it confessed the truth. “I never ordered No. 18 to come here; it came on its own.”
Xiao Hei wasn’t easily swayed. “It bears your mark, and as your chosen kin, it’s impossible for it to join another.”
A “chosen kin” bore a mental imprint, which made it akin to a devoted follower. Due to this imprint, any hint of betrayal would be immediately sensed by the whale. The whale could even erase Lan Tuan’s mind with just a thought.
This restriction ensured lifelong loyalty, preventing any possibility of joining another force.
The whale fell silent briefly before shaking its head. “It may bear my mark, but I never demanded its loyalty, nor did I use the imprint to compel it.”
“When I marked No. 18, it was only to save its life.”
Xiao Hei cut straight to the point. “But you don’t have healing abilities.”
It knew the whale’s abilities well, and healing wasn’t one of them.
The whale remained calm. “True, I don’t have healing abilities.”
Its tone held a note of intrigue. “But a simple healing wouldn’t have saved No. 18.”
Xiao Hei, clearly interested, narrowed its eyes. “Then what did you do?”
*
Lan Tuan had found Wen Xin by now.
Spotting Lan Tuan heading toward him, Wen Xin tucked the handmade fox doll, scale, and feather back into his pocket.
Once he zipped his jacket, ensuring the pocket was secure, he bent down to scoop Lan Tuan into his arms.
“What’s up?”
Lan Tuan looked up at him, its eyes glistening with attachment and reluctance.
It pressed its head to Wen Xin’s chest, paws clinging to him, purring in contentment even without being stroked.
Wen Xin adjusted his hold on Lan Tuan, lightly patting its back with a smile. “Good boy.”
At the same time, the whale turned its gaze toward where Wen Xin and Lan Tuan were together.
“To be precise, it wasn’t me who saved No. 18,” the whale said, watching as Wen Xin comforted Lan Tuan. Its tone carried a distant, grateful quality.
“I only helped it see a different future when it had given up.”
