The Cubs Can’t Possibly Be This Well-Behaved! – CH145

Chapter 145

Recalling the kiss from his memories, Su Ci found himself unsure of how to face Zhou Yan.

It was clearly just a change in appearance, but the feeling it gave him was undeniably different…

He pressed his lips together and decided to ignore Zhou Yan for now, shifting his gaze to the version of himself bound in chains.

The chains were seals, suppressing the immense resentment buried within the land. If those seals were broken, the resentment would once again erupt from the earth.

The resentment had been accumulating for tens of thousands of years. Once it broke free, containing it again would be nearly impossible.

Su Ci frowned deeply.

If that were the case, he couldn’t reclaim all his power just yet. The seal would need to remain intact for now.

He tossed the mask back. The red-robed man caught it with a graceful hand, his gaze flicking between Su Ci and Zhou Yan, the corners of his lips curling into an amused smile, as if watching an entertaining scene.

Su Ci gave him a helpless look.

This part of his soul, the most rational and detached, had remained untainted by resentment. That clarity allowed it to guard this place for tens of thousands of years without incident.

Thus, he could now adopt a completely indifferent attitude.

“I’ve understood the past,” Su Ci said. “Let’s get to the main point.”

“Very well,” the red-robed man nodded.

“You’ll need to stay here temporarily. Once most of the resentment is dealt with, you can regain your freedom.”

Only then could they remerge.

“Understood.”

The man nodded again, though a wistful expression crossed his face. “With the Spirit of Resentment gone, I suspect the days ahead will be far less entertaining…”

“Chirp chirp!”

At that moment, a clear bird call interrupted them.

The three turned toward the sound to see a plump little sparrow poking its head out from Zhou Yan’s pocket. Its tiny, bead-like black eyes blinked curiously.

Upon realizing it had attracted the attention of three powerful beings, the sparrow froze for a moment before quickly retreating back into the pocket.

The red-robed man extended his pale hand, and the chubby sparrow, reluctant yet powerless, was lifted from Zhou Yan’s pocket and placed into his palm. It curled into a fluffy ball, clearly nervous.

“What an adorable little sparrow,” he said with a playful smile.

Peeking out from its feathers, the sparrow gazed up at this golden-haired, red-eyed version of Su Ci. Its tiny black eyes sparkled, clearly captivated by his striking appearance.

“If you like it, you can keep it,” Su Ci said.

Watching his other self play with the sparrow, Su Ci suddenly thought it might be good to give him something to do. After all, leaving him idle would only lead to trouble.

This sparrow, which he hadn’t had the time to deal with, had ended up here by chance. That, perhaps, was fate.

However, before the red-robed man could respond, the sparrow grew excited. It chirped loudly and flapped its wings, flying back to Su Ci. It chattered endlessly, expressing its displeasure and grievances.

Though the golden-haired, red-eyed Su Ci was indeed beautiful, in the sparrow’s eyes, Xue Wei was still the most beautiful and adorable in the entire universe.

It would never leave its little princess for anyone else!

Just as Su Ci was about to speak, his red-robed counterpart interjected, “Little sparrow, don’t you… want to take on human form?”

Human form?

The plump little sparrow froze, turning to look at the Su Ci bound in chains. It nearly fell from the air, forgetting to flap its wings.

“Although you’ve developed intelligence, it seems you have some innate flaws…” the red-robed Su Ci said to it. “On your own, achieving a human form would be nearly impossible.”

“In fact, even speaking human language might be beyond your reach.”

The red-robed man chuckled softly, his tone almost hypnotic. “How about this? Stay here and keep me company, and I’ll help you solve that problem.”

The little sparrow hesitated, instinctively looking to Su Ci for guidance.

Between the golden-haired, red-eyed Su Ci and the black-haired, dark-eyed Su Ci—whose beauty was warmer and more approachable—it trusted the latter more.

Besides, if the red-robed Su Ci could solve its problem, surely the black-haired Su Ci could as well, right?

Seeing through the little sparrow’s thoughts, the red-robed man shrugged and said, “He does have the ability. But he doesn’t have the time to help you, does he?”

What could Su Ci say to that?

He could only nod. “He’s right.”

The little sparrow was clearly torn. It wanted to stay and solve its problem but couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Xue Wei. They had never been apart for more than a day—Xue Wei would surely worry about it.

“I’ll explain everything to Xue Wei,” Su Ci said gently. “And in the future, she can visit you. Once you’ve achieved what you want, you can return to see her. There’s no need to feel so upset.”

“And,” the red-robed man added, continuing to entice the sparrow, “when you’ve mastered your abilities, you’ll reunite in even better shape.”

Su Ci shot his counterpart a sidelong glance but didn’t refute him.

In the end, the little sparrow reluctantly agreed to stay. Before Su Ci and Zhou Yan left, it recorded a video on Su Ci’s communicator, reassuring Xue Wei of its safety.

With this crisis resolved, attention turned to the growing urgency of dealing with the resentment. Su Ci turned to leave but paused when his gaze fell on Zhou Yan. His tangled thoughts momentarily stilled.

What must happen, will happen.

Su Ci, never one to hesitate, appeared directly in front of Zhou Yan.

Zhou Yan, seeing the young man approach, couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at his lips. Memories of their time together flashed through his mind, and he said with a grin, “Su Su, you came back for me.”

“…”

For once, Su Ci found himself at a loss for words. In his tens of millions of years of existence, this was the first time he had felt something so unfamiliar.

Had he truly returned to the Prison Star because of Zhou Yan?

Yes. And no.

When he first saw the recruitment notice from the Prison Star, something stirred within him. An inexplicable feeling compelled him—one that had driven the amnesiac Su Ci to choose this path and come to the Prison Star.

He had a sense of crisis, a feeling that he was needed here, that he had to return.

And reality proved that this instinct was correct.

If he hadn’t come back, Zhou Yan would have disappeared, and this planet might have ultimately faced destruction.

So, saying he returned for Zhou Yan wasn’t entirely wrong either.

“You…” Su Ci frowned. “What’s going on, exactly?”

Though he now understood the events of the past and had pieced together the general picture, there was still something he couldn’t grasp—Zhou Yan.

Zhou Yan was the Heavenly Dao, the Spirit of Rules.

Su Ci remembered clearly that tens of thousands of years ago, on the day he split his soul to seal the resentment, it was also the day the Spirit of Rules was born. Before that, they had no connection or bond.

If that was the case, why did Zhou Yan harbor such strong feelings toward him?

Over countless millennia, Su Ci had never been moved by anyone, nor had he ever taken a partner. But he wasn’t oblivious. The way Zhou Yan looked at him, and that kiss—both made it abundantly clear what Zhou Yan felt for him.

And that left him puzzled. Where had such intense emotions come from?

Zhou Yan didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he took a step closer, his clear gaze filled with utmost sincerity.

“So, will you give me this chance?” he asked.

Su Ci didn’t step back from his approach. He remained still, staring at Zhou Yan, and asked, “What chance?”

Zhou Yan took a deep breath. He looked slightly nervous, but his gaze remained steady. In that moment, his eyes shed all traces of red, returning to their pure, gentle platinum hue.

“A chance to spend the rest of my life with you,” he said.

“The rest of your life?”

Su Ci laughed softly, almost reflexively. Having endured countless separations, the phrase was like a sharp thorn to him.

Yet, looking at Zhou Yan, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words that instinctively came to mind:

How long could your ‘rest of your life’ really be?

He couldn’t ask. Zhou Yan, as if sensing his unspoken thoughts, gazed at him with a hint of pain and answered softly, “The Spirit of Rules shares the lifespan of the heavens and earth.”

“As long as you’re willing, I can stay by your side forever.”

“Su Su, can I have this chance?”

The calm and melodious voice, coming from the communicator Su Ci had given Zhou Yan, carried the same familiar tone as always. Yet now, it bore a newfound maturity and an undeniable, soul-stirring resonance.

Su Ci couldn’t deny it—he was moved.

The Spirit of Rules… immortal, sharing the lifespan of the heavens and earth.

He stared deeply into Zhou Yan’s eyes. The young man’s gaze burned with fervent sincerity, brimming with the truest of emotions. He looked at Su Ci with hope, waiting for an answer.

But in the end, Su Ci’s brows furrowed.

“How do you know?” he asked quietly, a hint of sharpness in his tone. “The things I care about, the things I want—how do you know them so well?”

Su Ci felt no sign of any probing power, and he was certain Zhou Yan hadn’t used any mind-reading ability on him. So how had Zhou Yan come to know his desires and feelings so clearly?

This unfamiliar feeling of being completely grasped and out of control made Su Ci, for the first time, feel a hint of panic.

As his expression gradually turned colder, Zhou Yan felt a twinge of disappointment, but more than that, he felt understanding and a deep ache for him.

How could he not know?

After all, he had been watching this man in front of him for millions of years…

Zhou Yan’s true transformation into a spirit occurred tens of thousands of years ago, but the awakening of his consciousness happened much earlier than that.

From the moment his awareness was born, Su Ci was the first being he ever noticed. Of all the countless beings under heaven and earth, it was Su Su alone who captured and held his attention.

There was something about him, a vitality so powerful it was impossible to ignore.

The moment Zhou Yan saw Su Ci, he could see no one else.

Through Su Ci, he learned about joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness. He awakened to desire, to longing, to the emotions that govern all sentient beings. He experienced the beauty and cruelty of the world, its joys and sorrows—all through Su Ci’s existence.

Because of Su Ci, the rules of the world continued to evolve and improve. Zhou Yan himself grew stronger as a result.

But, like the nascent Book Spirit, there was a long journey from the awakening of consciousness to becoming a fully formed spirit.

For Zhou Yan, as the intangible Heavenly Dao, the difficulty of such a transformation was exponentially greater.

All he could do was silently observe Su Su—watch him grow from a spirited, mischievous youth full of life, to someone increasingly solitary and weary of the world. Zhou Yan could do nothing but witness it all in silence.

Fortunately, in the final moment, he succeeded in protecting Su Su…

And now, finally, there was a chance for them.

Facing Su Ci’s growing coldness, Zhou Yan couldn’t help feeling anxious and uncertain. After a moment of thought, recalling his previous approach, he softly said, “When we return, I’ll explain everything to you. Is that okay?”

His originally calm and gentle voice now carried a hint of softness. Coupled with the way he gazed at Su Ci with a pitiful, almost pleading expression, Su Ci couldn’t help but feel as though A-Yan was trying to charm him like he used to.

“…”

Why did he suddenly feel a pang of tenderness? What was this?