Monster Cub Live Stream – CH26

Posted by Miyaaaz, ? Views, Released on April 2, 2026

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Chapter 26

The white cat’s answer plunged the whole room into silence.

It was an answer none of them had expected—not even diagnosed with Alpha, yet already sent to Sin Star…

Everyone in the interstellar world knew how contagious Alpha was. Surrounded by Alpha patients on all sides, Bai Yang and Bai Yue would become patients themselves sooner or later, even if they had bodies of steel.

To put it more bluntly, this was deliberate framing. If Bai Yang and Bai Yue’s Alpha symptoms turned out to be severe, calling it attempted murder would not be an exaggeration.

Lin An’an’s little tentacles curled in on themselves twice without thinking.

The siblings’ experience was far, far too similar to his own. They were pitiable people, just like him.

The only thing one could be thankful for was that the people who discarded them had not thrown them into Poison Mist Forest. Otherwise, they really would have had no chance of survival at all.

The little kitten on the pillow suddenly twitched faintly, a pained whimper escaping her mouth. But she was too weak, and the sound was so faint it was hard to notice.

Bai Yang, who had been watching her the whole time, heard it immediately.

The blue-eyed white cat grew even more frantic, his voice already tinged with sobs. [What do we do? If it really is Alpha… then Yueyue, doesn’t that mean—doesn’t that mean—]

He could not force out the rest of the words. He could only press his whole body closer and cuddle tightly against his younger sister, trying to warm her with his own body heat.

He was only thirteen, still very much a child himself. To be cast together with his little sister onto a desolate planet so suddenly—and yet he had already done so well, so very well.

Bai Yue’s current condition was hypothermia. Usually, that sort of illness had underlying causes, such as an overly cold environment, or the onset of another disease.

But Bai Yue’s symptoms had appeared suddenly, and even the treatment pod could not heal her.

There was no need for further testing. Everyone present already knew that Bai Yue had contracted Alpha.

Lin An’an sighed silently and gently patted the sobbing, trembling white cat boy with a little tentacle. [Don’t be afraid. Leave it to me.]

Unfortunately, Bai Yang was too close to breaking down and had no spare attention to look at the words on the light screen.

Without the little cub needing to remind him, Feng Wu stepped forward and lifted Bai Yang up from where he had been clinging tightly to Bai Yue.

The white cat instinctively struggled for a moment, but the next second, his tear-blurred blue eyes saw the small light screen in front of him.

There were only a few short words, yet they carried a power so deeply reassuring that it soothed him at once.

Bai Yang blinked. The tears spilling from his eyes made his vision bright and clear again.

The tiny monster cub carefully shifted into the place Bai Yang had just vacated. His soft little tentacles came to rest on the little kitten’s forehead, and at the tips of those tentacles glowed a soft yet bright green light.

The little kitten gradually stopped trembling. The rise and fall of her belly visibly grew stronger, larger, and much steadier.

After a long while, Lin An’an withdrew his little tentacles. The hollow feeling of having exhausted his ability left him weak all over, and with a plop he fell flat onto the pillow.

Bai Yang jumped onto the bed, but instead of looking at his sister, he moved close to Lin An’an and asked carefully, [Y-you… are you alright?]

His little sister’s condition had clearly stabilized. The one who now looked more fragile was the little cub instead.

More than the fact that Lin An’an could treat Alpha, Bai Yang cared more about Lin An’an’s condition.

Lin An’an was so touched he could hardly bear it. He struggled to wave his little tentacles, thinking to himself that all those days of calling him “big brother” had not been in vain—Bai Yang really was just as he claimed, a very good big brother.

Feng Wu handed Lin An’an a Red Spirit Fruit. The little cub popped it into his mouth, and immediately jolted all over from the sourness.

Red Spirit Fruit took effect very quickly. Before long, a sense of replenished ability surged up inside him.

Lin An’an let out a satisfied little yingji, rolled once across the pillow, and with a plop fell onto the soft mattress.

Seeing this, Bai Yang finally let go of his worry for the little cub and moved back to Bai Yue’s side, gently nudging her head with the tip of his nose.

The warm temperature at his nose and her soft, steady breathing made Bai Yang’s eyes turn hot, and tears spilled down all over again.

But unlike before, when he had been overwhelmed by despair and helplessness, this time he was crying from sheer relief and joy.

He had come so close—so, so close—to losing his sister.

He Yinghong, who had also followed them into the room, watched the entire treatment process unfold.

He stood frozen in place, unable to make even the slightest sound for a long while.

Xiong Yingjun lightly patted his shoulder. “Well? Stunned speechless?”

He Yinghong finally came back to himself, only to realize there was a dull ache in his chest. Only then did he notice that he had become so absorbed just now that he had forgotten to breathe.

He had almost thought he was witnessing a miracle.

Alpha Syndrome—the illness that had left the finest healers and experts in the galaxy helpless, the Alpha that all interstellar people believed to be beyond saving—

Had actually been broken through just like that by a single monster cub.

Xiong Yingjun clicked his tongue in understanding. “Back when I first saw it, I was exactly like you. You’ll get used to it. An Cub’s power is far beyond anything you can imagine.”

That line sounded a little familiar. Si Youlin shot him a somewhat helpless glance.

When Shi Xiaoxing had learned the truth back then, Xiong Yingjun seemed to have said something very similar too.

Did he intend to say the exact same thing to every single person? Si Youlin almost wanted to laugh, but what remained in the end was only a heart full of emotion.

How unfortunate they were, to have contracted Alpha. And yet how lucky they were, to have met An Cub.

He Yinghong slowly let out a breath, but the heart in his chest was still beating at great speed. He looked at the little cub resting on the bed, and his eyes shone brightly.

—It seemed he really had chased after a dream beyond imagining.

Bai Yue’s sudden crisis ultimately passed without disaster.

Afterward, Feng Wu signed mental power contracts with Bai Yang and He Yinghong, who had witnessed the whole thing. Both of them understood perfectly well and cooperated without issue.

Lin An’an rested for the whole afternoon, and by evening he had regained his vitality and shut himself inside the pharmaceutical room.

The room had originally been a storage room on the second floor. After returning from the inner city some time ago, Feng Wu had found the time to clear it out and refit it into a proper pharmaceutical room.

Besides the pharmaceutical equipment moved over from Old Master He’s place, Feng Wu had also bought some storage cabinets and preservation cabinets for the little cub to store medicinal herbs and potions.

It could truly be said that he was exceptionally thoughtful.

While making medicine, Lin An’an locked the door and, feeling safe, boldly returned to human form inside the room.

—Using a human form to make medicine really was much more convenient, Lin An’an sighed inwardly.

The potion whose main ingredient was Red Spirit Fruit was somewhat troublesome to make. The fruit had to be crushed into a fine pulp, and then both the pulp and the juice squeezed out of it had to be poured together into the pot.

If, during that process, the pharmacist infused some healing-type ability into it, the final potion would be of even better quality.

So this step could not be replaced by machinery. It had to be pounded by hand.

If he were using his soft little tentacles in cub form, there was no way he could pound those tiny but hard fruits properly, Lin An’an grumbled in his heart.

Time passed bit by bit. When the Red Spirit Fruit potion was finally finished brewing, Lin An’an turned off the heat and prepared to wait for it to cool before bottling it—when someone suddenly knocked on the door.

“An Cub, do you want something to eat?” Feng Wu’s voice sounded from outside.

Lin An’an’s eyes lit up at once, and right on cue, his stomach let out a loud growl.

He did not answer. Instead, he tiptoed lightly to the door and unlocked it, while shrinking himself behind the door just in case someone else was outside. If that happened, he could use the door as cover and switch back into cub form.

Fortunately, only Feng Wu stood there.

The moment Feng Wu stepped in and failed to see anyone at first glance, his heart tightened. But the next second he saw a head peek out from behind the door.

Fluffy-looking, and clearly very good to the touch.

Feng Wu’s fingers curled slightly, and he turned to close the door behind him.

“Old He bought some pastries on the street. There are sweet ones and savory ones.” Feng Wu placed the plate in his hands onto a little table, his gaze pausing on Lin An’an for a moment.

The boy was still wearing that badly corroded outfit, now splattered with some unknown reddish stains. But when he saw the pastries, his eyes lit up all at once.

Lin An’an was indeed quite hungry. Brewing potions looked as though it involved little physical movement, but it actually consumed a tremendous amount of energy. His stomach had long since been protesting; he had simply ignored it because he could not leave the potion unattended.

The pastries Feng Wu brought were like timely rain. Lin An’an was not picky at all—sweet or savory, he loved them both—and before long he had eaten more than half.

“Where did Grandpa He buy these?” Lin An’an asked, his words a little muffled. “They’re so good. Let’s go there and buy them ourselves in the future.”

Because his mouth was full of food, the boy’s cheeks bulged out on both sides, making him look exactly like a little hamster hoarding food.

Feng Wu gave a quiet hum. “It’s right beside the trading hall.”

“That’s perfect, then.” Lin An’an polished off the entire plate of pastries in one breath and rubbed his stomach in great satisfaction. “Next time we go sell vegetables, we can pick some up on the way back.”

At that point, his eyes shifted with a crafty gleam. “Say, if we advertise that pastry shop in the livestream, would the boss give us a discount? Or at least throw in a few extra for me!”

“Maybe.” A trace of amusement appeared in Feng Wu’s eyes. “Do you want more now?”

“No need.” Lin An’an rubbed his stomach, turned around, and walked back toward the pharmaceutical table. “The potion is already finished. It just needs bottling now. It’ll be done very soon.”

Feng Wu nodded, stepped over, picked up a few empty bottles, and helped with the bottling.

The final bottling step required no real technique. Lin An’an only demonstrated it once, and Feng Wu had already learned how to do it.

The two of them stood side by side at the pharmaceutical table, facing the large pot of cooled potion.

Compared with Lin An’an, Feng Wu’s frame was almost too tall. What had seemed like a reasonably spacious worktable now felt unusually cramped.

Feng Wu did not actually like standing too close to people. But perhaps because he had spent so much time with the little cub, he found that he did not reject standing shoulder to shoulder with the boy at all.

“I wonder if Uncle Zhuang can modify pharmaceutical tools,” Feng Wu heard the boy mutter softly. “This table is a bit too small. It would be better if it were just a little bigger.”

Feng Wu responded, “We can ask him next time.”

With someone helping, the speed of bottling the potion increased immediately.

“Done!” Lin An’an let out a long breath. “Brother Wolf, your technique’s pretty good. I’ll give you a raise later!”

The last sentence was clearly just a joke. After saying it, the boy blinked at him once, then failed to hold back his own laughter first.

Feng Wu’s lips curved slightly as well. He took a set of clothes out from terminal space.

“I’ll go out first. Change into these,” he said.

Lin An’an took the clothes instinctively, and only then finally remembered what he looked like right now.

—Had he really been wandering around in front of Brother Wolf looking this miserable the whole time?!

Embarrassment heated the tips of Lin An’an’s ears, but when he saw that Feng Wu’s face remained as calm as ever, he could only console himself inwardly. Brother Wolf was not some outsider. No matter what, he surely would not dislike him, right?

Besides, not having changed clothes was not really his fault. Ever since he gained full control over his transformations, he had never turned back into human form again, so naturally he had never had the opportunity to change.

After Feng Wu left the room, Lin An’an let out a small breath of relief. He shook out the clothes in his hands—and then froze.

That size…

Those obviously could not be Brother Wolf’s clothes. Brother Wolf would never fit into them.

Lin An’an pressed his lips together slightly. His dark eyes grew even brighter, and happiness bubbled up uncontrollably inside him.

As expected of his good big brother! Always so considerate! He had even bought clothes for him!

For Lin An’an, the clothes were still just a tiny bit too large, so wearing them felt like stealing an older brother’s outfit. But there was absolutely nothing to criticize about the fabric. It felt extremely comfortable on his skin—far better than the rag-like strips he had been wearing before.

Once he had changed, Lin An’an transformed back into cub form and silently gave Brother Wolf another approving mark in his heart.

By the time the medicine-making was finished, it was already deep into the night. The little cub, utterly drained, barely managed to force himself to take a bath before promptly collapsing into Feng Wu’s palm and sleeping like the dead.

The next morning, Lin An’an was woken by the noise outside the door.

The little cub struggled to open his bean-like eyes, irritably rolled over on the pillow, and buried his soft squishy face into it.

Feng Wu, sitting by the bedside, assumed he disliked the noise outside and immediately set up a mental power barrier at the door, cutting off the sound from beyond it.

“There’s still time,” Feng Wu said quietly. “There’s more than an hour before the livestream starts. You can sleep a bit longer.”

But Lin An’an no longer felt like sleeping.

It wasn’t because of the noise outside.

It was because he had dreamed again. Yet again. Again again again.

This dream had been especially long, but also extremely fragmented and messy. It felt like someone had pulled out several small clips from a long stretch of memories, scrambled them all out of order, and stuffed them into his mind to play.

Feng Wu pinched up the corner of the blanket and tucked it over Lin An’an. But the little cub lying on the pillow suddenly moved and stretched one tiny tentacle outside the blanket.

It was a bit warm.

Still, his tummy had to stay covered.

Lin An’an sorted through the dream-memories from the night, trying hard to arrange them in proper order.

In the earliest memory fragment, he had still been a toddling child. At that time, he lived in an extremely luxurious room, and everything—from his food to his surroundings—looked very expensive indeed.

In front of him stood a woman whose face he could not see clearly, holding out both hands to him as she said, “Baby, come to Mommy! That’s right, stand up and walk slowly…”

When he stumbled into her arms, what greeted him were her gentle kisses and warm praise.

“Wow! Baby is amazing!”

After that, it seemed to be his birthday banquet.

He was still very young, a tiny boy dressed in an exquisite child’s formal outfit, standing nervously behind the woman. His little hand clutched the corner of her clothes, wrinkling the equally expensive and delicate fabric she wore.

The little boy gradually grew older within the dream, but he never awakened an ability, nor did he even have a second form. The harsh, cutting, hurtful words around him slowly grew more numerous. Even his father, who had once been fairly kind, gradually lost patience with him and stopped showing him a good face.

Every single time, that faceless woman would hold him and gently soothe him, letting the aggrieved little boy fall asleep in her arms.

His mother’s embrace seemed to become the boy’s final harbor.

But even that harbor quickly disappeared.

When the boy in the dream was seven—or perhaps eight—the woman who had once held him, comforted him, and told him it was alright, had become a cold gravestone.

The dream was long and fragmented, but all of it revolved around that woman. That final gravestone, in particular, was carved deeply into Lin An’an’s mind, leaving his emotions in utter chaos.

The little cub tossed and turned on the pillow again, grabbed the edge of the blanket with his tiny tentacles, and soon wrapped himself up completely inside it.

Feng Wu frowned slightly and was just about to ask what was wrong when someone knocked on the door.

The person knocking had controlled the force very well—light enough not to wake someone who was still asleep, yet clear enough for someone already awake to hear.

Feng Wu opened the door and asked, “What is it?”

The one outside was Si Youlin. “Yueyue is awake.” His voice was very soft. “When An Cub wakes up, bring him over to have a look.”

But Feng Wu simply stepped aside and called, “An Cub?”

A small bump bulged beneath the blanket on the bed. At the sound of his name, it thrashed violently a few times—to no avail.

The little cub: “…Yingji!”

Oh no.

He couldn’t get out!

Si Youlin gave a light cough to hold back his laughter and watched Feng Wu rescue the little cub, who had gotten so turned around under the blanket that he could no longer find the way out.

The little cub buried himself in Feng Wu’s palm and refused to face anyone.

…This was beyond humiliating.

qaq.

Inside the room belonging to the white cat siblings—

Bai Yang, who had been guarding Bai Yue the whole time, was the first to notice that his younger sister had awakened.

After waking, the little white kitten made no sound at all. She simply lay motionless on the pillow, only her open eyes proving that she was truly awake.

Those eyes were almost exactly like Bai Yang’s—an extremely beautiful shade of blue.

Bai Yang was beside himself with excitement, yet he still did his best to lower his voice and softly called out by his sister’s ear.

But Bai Yue seemed not to hear him. It was a long while before she slowly turned her head and blinked once at her brother.

[…Yueyue?] Bai Yang asked hesitantly. [Does anything still feel uncomfortable?]

Bai Yue’s reaction left Bai Yang at a complete loss. He leaned forward and licked her fur for her, yet the little kitten still showed no response, only staring blankly at him.

If this had been before, his lively, energetic little sister would already have pounced on him and rolled into a ball with him, or else she would have licked his fur in return.

Bai Yue’s abnormal behavior made Bai Yang panic. He looked pleadingly toward Xiong Yingjun by the doorway.

Xiong Yingjun was holding a tray with a bottle of nutrient solution and a bowl of fruit cut into tiny little pieces.

“Let her eat something first,” he comforted. “Maybe she’s just hungry.”

But before he even got close to the bedside, Bai Yue—who until now had barely reacted at all—suddenly moved.

The little kitten shrank back behind her brother. The movement was small, but it was clear enough for anyone to see that she seemed to be afraid.

[Yueyue?] Bai Yang rubbed against his sister and said softly, [Yueyue, Uncle Xiong isn’t a bad person.]

But Bai Yue had no response again. She only stayed curled behind him, her fluffy little head lowered and unwilling to lift it.

Bai Yang was at a complete loss. Xiong Yingjun scratched his head, not knowing what to do either. In the end, he could only stand far away from the bed, stretch his arm out as far as possible to set the tray on the bedside table, and silently mouth something.

Bai Yang could not understand the lip movements and blinked blankly.

Xiong Yingjun pointed at the tray, opening and closing his mouth in exaggerated motions—

Eat first!

This time Bai Yang understood. He nodded and used his little cat paw to spear a slice of cucumber from the plate, bringing it to Bai Yue’s mouth.

[Yueyue, eat a little first, alright?] Bai Yang coaxed patiently. [It’s cucumber, your favorite. It’s really tasty!]

The little kitten still gave no reaction. She did not eat the cucumber held to her lips, nor did she even make a move to sniff it.

At that moment, the room door was gently pushed open, and Feng Wu arrived with Lin An’an.

Xiong Yingjun let out a long breath of relief and leaned close to them, lowering his voice. “An Cub, you’re finally here. Bai Yue looks a little off…”

Before he could finish, Lin An’an jumped out of Feng Wu’s palm and, in just a few hops, landed on the bed.

Xiong Yingjun panicked. “Wait, no—little Yueyue is a bit scared of people right now—eh?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he froze.

Not only was the little kitten not frightened by the little black blob jumping onto the bed, she seemed instead as though someone had suddenly pressed a start button. She slowly walked out from behind Bai Yang and actively tried to move closer to him.

Though her movements were sluggish, this was the very first time since waking that she had proactively responded to the outside world.

Bai Yang’s eyes widened. He felt as though he hardly dared breathe, afraid that he might frighten his sister and interrupt her.

Perhaps because she had been unconscious too long and was still very weak, Bai Yue walked with difficulty. So Lin An’an shifted forward a little as well, shortening the distance for her.

The little kitten finally stopped beside Lin An’an. Her pink little nose sniffed at him gently for a moment, and then she pressed herself against the little black blob and lay down without moving.

Bai Yang looked at the little cub, then at his younger sister. A trace of thoughtfulness passed through his blue eyes.

Xiong Yingjun, baffled, quietly asked Si Youlin beside him, “How come this is happening? When I went over just now, little Yueyue had already curled up in fear before I even got close to the bed.”

Si Youlin looked Xiong Yingjun up and down, seeming as though he wanted to say something, but hesitated.

He very much wanted to say that with such a huge frame, Xiong Yingjun looked like anything but a good person. But after thinking about it, he felt that would be a little too hurtful, so he held it back.

“Maybe because… An Cub saved her,” Si Youlin replied in an equally soft voice. “Even while unconscious, it’s not as though there’s zero awareness of the outside world. An Cub treated her twice. Yueyue probably felt both times.”

Xiong Yingjun asked blankly, “Were you like that too, back then?”

Si Youlin glanced at him and answered without the slightest avoidance, “Yes. I was the same.”

That time his ability went out of control, An Cub had saved him. Though it was somewhat embarrassing to admit, after that incident, he really had developed a subtle feeling toward An Cub.

“Dependence” might be the best word to describe it. But it was not emotional attachment in that sense—it was more like… the kind of trust and reliance a patient develops toward a doctor.

When he had believed he was doomed, when there had been no hope of survival whatsoever, a little cub had gone heave-ho, heave-ho, straining terribly yet stubbornly pulling him out of the abyss, waving soft little tentacles at him as if saying:

Don’t be afraid, I’m here to save you!

No matter who it was, even the coldest-hearted person in the world could not possibly remain unmoved.

And Bai Yue was only a three-year-old little cub. Naturally, emotions like that would appear even more direct and intense in someone so young.

Xiong Yingjun frowned and thought about it seriously for a while, but still found it difficult to imagine exactly what kind of feeling that was.

Si Youlin gave him an example. “Imagine that one day, all the fur on your body falls out, and you become a completely bald bear. No one can do anything about your hair loss, and you can only stay bald forever—a hairless bald bear for the rest of your life.”

Xiong Yingjun’s eyes widened. “…?!”

Damn, just imagining it was terrifying as hell!!!

Pupil earthquake.jpg

“And then at that moment, An Cub suddenly appears,” Si Youlin continued. “Not only does he cure your hair loss, he even makes your fur grow back thicker and denser than before.”

“I get it,” Xiong Yingjun said, looking horrified. “That’s basically a reborn parent!”