FU JING WOKE with a start.

A gentle nudge against his thigh made him turn his head. He was met with two large, expectant eyes—so round and yellow, they reminded him of the full moon.

The kitten seemed to feel better and Fu Jing puffed a soft laugh. When he reached down to stroke its head with a finger, the cat closed its eyes, leaning into the touch. It began to purr, trying to roll on its back, but the movement pulled at the injury on its stomach. It yelped in pain and immediately started to lick the wound.

Fu Jing watched it for a moment, then thought it must be hungry. He pursed his lips, scanning the area for something to eat—but the forest offered nothing edible.

He briefly considered picking up the kitten and carrying it to the nearest village, but he’d never held a kitten before. He was afraid of doing it wrong, afraid he might hurt it—especially since it was already injured.

With a sigh, he finally stood and dusted off his robes. “You wait here while I get something to eat.”

Fu Jing wasn’t sure whether the kitten understood him or not, as it just stared back at him with its large eyes. Feeling a bit awkward, he waved at it before turning to leave. But the moment he took a step away from the cat, a miserable wail pierced the air.

Fu Jing froze.

So the kitten didn’t want to be left alone. Fair enough.

He turned back and tried to explain, “You need something to eat, but I can’t carry you…”

The kitten shook its head.

“Well, then…”

Wait.

The kitten shook its head?!

“You… You can understand me?”

The kitten nodded.

“Can you speak?”

The kitten shook its head again.

Fu Jing sighed. So they could only communicate with Yes and No questions. He pondered for a moment. “Okay, do you want food?”

The cat just blinked at him.

Was that a yes or a no??

Fu Jing’s eyes wandered from side to side, then back to the kitten.

Next try, “Are you hungry?”

The cat tilted its head. It looked incredibly adorable, but it didn’t help at all.

Did it not understand after all?

Fu Jing sighed. “Should I carry you?”

The cat nodded vigorously.

“Fine, but don’t scratch or bite me if I touch the wrong spots,” Fu Jing warned. “I will drop you.”

This time, the cat closed its eyes and gave a satisfied meow. It almost looked like it was smiling.

Fu Jing carefully lifted the kitten from the ground, cradling it in one arm while supporting its weight with the other.

He walked to the nearest town, where he first stopped at a herbal shop to purchase ingredients for a wound-healing balm. It happened to be the same shop where he’d bought the demon-calming incense not too long ago.

Next, he sought out a place that served fish, hoping to feed the kitten.

Much to Fu Jing’s relief, once he’d set down a plate of freshly grilled fish, the small cat immediately dug in.

A smile bloomed on Fu Jing’s face as he watched the kitten eat merrily away. It was such a tiny creature that it could’ve easily fit on the plate itself—twice over.

Fu Jing took care of the small black kitten for several days until its wound was fully healed. He kept it close, providing food and keeping watch over it as it rested and recovered. Each day, he would gently clean the wound, apply the healing balm he’d made, and offer the kitten soft foods to help it regain its strength.

Once the kitten was able to leap and roll around with new-found vitality, Fu Jing knew it was time to let it go.

He returned to the woods, where he carefully set the kitten down, expecting it to happily run off.

Yet, the kitten followed him when he walked away. Fu Jing looked at it in astonishment.

“You’re free.”

The kitten only stared up at him with big, round eyes. When he turned to leave again, it continued to trail behind him.

Fu Jing laughed softly. “You want to stay with me?”

“Meow!!” it confirmed.

Truth be told, Fu Jing was a bit relieved. In what little time they’d spent together, he’d grown quite fond of that little creature. The thought of having it by his side felt like a small comfort in the midst of everything.

 
Fu Jing had never had a pet before, but he knew his new companion needed a name. And since he’d found the little cat underneath a pine tree, he deemed the name Xiao Song to be quite fitting—and the kitten seemed pleased with it too.

Being a kitten still, Xiao Song’s playful nature was boundless. He turned everything into a game, from pouncing on shadows to chasing leaves that swirled in the wind.

Xiao Song once confidently climbed a tree to chase a flock of birds. Unfortunately, he overestimated his own hunting abilities, and as he lunged for a branch, his clumsiness got the better of him. He lost his balance, tumbling into a pile of leaves.

Fu Jing laughed at the ruffled kitten—after making sure he was unharmed, of course.

Though Xiao Song couldn’t respond verbally, he could communicate with his face and actions. Over time, Fu Jing found himself talking to Xiao Song as though he could truly understand every word. The kitten would often respond with a tilt of his head, an approving meow, or by raising his paw.

At night, the two shared a bed in guest houses, usually with Xiao Song curled up on Fu Jing’s chest. Fu Jing told the kitten all about his past in the human realm—but also everything he’d experienced during his time in the demon realm.

How Xuan Qi had tricked him and now refused to let him go. How he tried to escape and how he’d failed.

“Xuan Qi is such a vicious beast!” Fu Jing complained. “Do you know him?”

Xiao Song nodded, his wide eyes shimmering with what looked like awe.

“…Do you like him?” Fu Jing asked tentatively.

Xiao Song nodded again, this time with much more vigour.

Fu Jing had figured as much. Being the demon lord, it only made sense that every other creature in this realm respected him. But somehow it still stung a little to know that even Xiao Song would feel that way.

“Pah! Back home, I’m the strongest,” Fu Jing said with a sour face. “I even defeated Xuan Qi! The fight down here wasn’t fair from the get-go… And then he robbed me of everything! My armour, my powers, my dignity… And my home.”

At the thought of his home, Fu Jing suddenly turned wistful, his heart heavy with gloom. He missed it. He missed it so much it ached.

If it hadn’t been for the demon, what would he be doing now?

Perhaps, he’d be training alongside his companions and enjoy one of his mother’s home-cooked meals afterwards. Or maybe he would be studying with his father—who also happened to be his teacher.

His mind wandered back to a memory from his teenage years.

Jin Yang had dragged Chen Xing onto the training ground by the ear, as he so often did.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!!” Chen Xing yelped.

Fu Jing laughed at this scene. “What’s Chen Xing done this time?”

“He tried to eat fucking moonseed berries. Again.”

“They look like wild grapes!” Chen Xing tried to justify his action.

Jin Yang was fuming. “You–!!” He took a deep breath before continuing to lecture Chen Xing. “You have to pay better attention in class—they’re poisonous!”

Chen Xing lowered his eyes, his lips curling into a pout.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jin Yang crossed his arms before addressing Fu Jing, “Anyway, how about you?”

“I didn’t manage to complete the task dad requested,” Fu Jing shrugged, “I probably won’t get any dinner tonight.”

Chen Xing looked at him in concern. “Should we bring you something?”

“Nah,” Fu Jing replied. “I failed. It’s a fair punishment.”

“Should we help you practise?” Jin Yang offered.

Fu Jing smiled, tired. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Jin Yang nodded, then suddenly squinted his eyes, looking past Fu Jing. “Hey… who’s that behind the tree?”

Fu Jing turned to look.

Peeking out from behind a birch tree was a young boy. Fu Jing laughed softly.

“Oh, that’s Liang Feng. He’s been following me around for a while now.”

Jin Yang quirked an eyebrow. “Why’s he hiding?”

“He’s scared of you,” Fu Jing answered without hesitation.

This answer shocked Jin Yang to the core. “Me?!”

Fu Jing shrugged again. “You have an intimidating personality.”

Jin Yang was speechless.

“Why don’t you call him over?” Chen Xing suggested, glancing toward the boy with a gentle smile.

Fu Jing turned back around and gestured for Liang Feng to come over with an inviting wave of his hand.

Liang Feng looked around. Seeing no one else nearby, he pointed at himself in disbelief. When Fu Jing nodded, a delighted grin spread across the boy’s youthful face, and Liang Feng eagerly jogged over. Stopping in front of his seniors, he bowed deeply.

Fu Jing smiled. “Training is over for today. Why are you still following me?” he asked, his tone kind and curious rather than scolding.

Liang Feng beamed at him, his face filled with admiration. “Because you’re amazing! I hope to become your disciple one day! I can’t wait to be taught by you!!”

Fu Jing puffed a soft laugh, ruffling Liang Feng’s hair. Chen Xing chuckled at the boy’s unbridled enthusiasm, and even Jin Yang’s sceptical expression softened into a warm smile at these sincere words.

He’d had a difficult past, no doubt, but right now, Fu Jing missed his mother’s embrace and his father’s approving pat on the shoulder. His companion’s encouraging words and Liang Feng’s insistence on becoming his disciple.

As Fu Jing reminisced, his wistful gaze drifted out the window. He couldn’t help but wonder what they would think of him now. Were they worried at all?

A single tear ran down his cheek, bitter sorrow tightly clutching his heart.

Suddenly, a light weight shifted on him—Xiao Song had lifted his head and was nudging Fu Jing’s chin with his tiny head.

Fu Jing’s lips curved into a faint smile. He wrapped his arms around the little cat, pulling him close.

“You also don’t have a home, huh?” he murmured softly.

Xiao Song shook his head, his ears drooping.

“That’s alright,” Fu Jing whispered, stroking the kitten’s fur. “We can be each other’s home.”

As Fu Jing drifted into a peaceful sleep, another memory began to resurface—a scene from his young adulthood.

His chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths as he removed his silver helmet. His hair was damp, plastered to his gallant features with sweat. But he didn’t mind—quite the opposite: it was the mark of another well-deserved victory.

He’d done it once again. He’d slain a beast all by himself.

This time, it had been a huge shadow creature haunting a forest and causing untold hardship to the people of a nearby village.

He emerged triumphantly from the dense woods—though the moment he spotted his two companions, his haughty and aloof demeanour gave way to a graceful smile.

“Well done!” Chen Xing applauded.

Jin Yang stepped forward and clapped Fu Jing on the back. “Your father will be proud.”

They didn’t linger too long after delivering the good news to the villagers, heading home right away. The second they set foot in their hometown, a figure sprinted toward them, waving his arm over his head.

It was Liang Feng, who almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to reach them.

Jin Yang folded his arms and shook his head, chuckling softly.

“I admire your patience,” he said before Liang Feng had reached them.

Fu Jing smiled. “He’s alright.”

“Maybe you should consider it,” Chen Xing said.

Fu Jing lightly shook his head. “I don’t take disciples.”

After being bombarded with a torrent of enthusiastic praise from Liang Feng, Fu Jing kindly excused himself. The fight had completely exhausted him, and all he wanted was to return home.

Home, where his mother awaited him with his favourite after-battle meal: homemade roast duck!

“Oh, your father will be so proud,” she said, her voice and face delighted as she placed a filled bowl in front of Fu Jing.

Fu Jing offered a tired smile before digging in. The glistening strips of duck sat atop a steaming bowl of fluffy white rice. After simmering for hours in a rich, glossy broth, the meat was tender and fragrant, with the skin still slightly crisp at the edges. On the side was stir-fried pak choi, briefly cooked with garlic and a pinch of salt. Its mild flavour cut through the richness of the duck, bringing balance to the meal.

The meal was simple, but rich in warmth, washing away the exhaustion of the day.

Fu Jing glanced at the empty seat at the table where his father should have been. As much as he’d hoped his father would’ve joined them, Fu Jing knew the man was likely too busy, as he often was.

His father was a strict man whose approval was hard-earned. But as long as Fu Jing was strong and successful, as long as he proved himself worthy, his father would acknowledge him.

And that was all Fu Jing needed.

As he was savouring each bite, darkness suddenly swallowed his vision. He froze mid-bite, then turned his head from side to side, but he couldn’t see anything. His hands fumbled across the table in search of something—anything—to ground himself.

“…Mom?” he nervously called out.

No reply.

Just as he thought of getting up, he felt the ground slipping away beneath his feet. Then the chair, and finally his armour.

Everything was slipping away.

He was slipping away—from who he used to be.

When his vision returned, he found himself surrounded by a black void. Lost and confused, he desperately tried to orient himself until a figure emerged from the depths of the shadows.

Fu Jing’s eyes were fixed on the familiar leather boots of his despised demon. His gaze only slowly travelled up to Xuan Qi’s face, which was split by a smug grin.

At this sight, a violent tremor shook Fu Jing’s heart.

He’d fought so hard to become the person he was today, and the demon had crushed it all to dust.

Now, Fu Jing merely was a shadow of his former self.

Fu Jing jolted awake, drenched in sweat, his breath coming in heavy gasps. It took him a moment to steady himself. Remembering he wasn’t alone, he promptly glanced to the side, afraid his abrupt movements had disturbed Xiao Song. But the kitten was still sound asleep, peacefully curled up.

This adorable sight calmed Fu Jing’s nerves a little. He rubbed his eyes, still groggy from exhaustion, before gazing out the window.

Even though he’d woken up, his nightmare continued. The moon was almost full.

“Time really flies, huh…” he murmured to himself.

He would have to return to the demon; at least for the night. The thought of it drew a weary sigh from Fu Jing’s lips.

“I’ll have to pay Xuan Qi a visit—you know, to suppress the curse,” he explained to Xiao Song later that day. “You can’t come with me, though. I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

Xiao Song’s pleading eyes made it hard to leave, but Fu Jing didn’t want him under any circumstances to witness the torment he was about to go through. Didn’t want the cat to see him in his wretched state.