Chapter 81 Need to Be Coaxed

Chapter 81: Needs Comforting

66 wasn’t convinced and tried again.

"?"

Where’s the poison? Why wasn’t it detecting any?

System glitch?

66 tried again, its screen stuttering as it processed the analysis report, lost in thought.

Indeed, there were no lethal components—only a potent sedative, enough to keep a doctor unconscious for a full day and night.

Rather than poison, this drink was more like a knockout cocktail.

66 shot a conflicted look at its unconscious host lying on the couch.

...The Duke hadn’t killed the host but knocked him out instead. What was this about?

On the other side of the wall, Imuir barked an order.

In it, he declared that Bai Yu, the traitor of The Black Robe Society, had been sentenced to death by poisoned wine, his body to be discarded in the wilderness. A decree was circulated, a warning to the nobility.

Yet, on the other hand, he scribbled a letter to a farm outside the city-state of Illiria.

Bai Yu had refused to cooperate. As a spy for The Black Robe Society, he had no future in Illiria. Imuir couldn’t bear to imprison him in the estate forever either. After much deliberation, he had to release him.

At dawn, he would dispatch his Guards to escort Bai Yu out of Illiria, stashing him at the farm. From then on, Bai Yu could go wherever he pleased—with his skills as a doctor, he’d thrive in any city-state.

But this meant... he would never see Bai Yu again.

Imuir lifted his gaze to the full moon outside the window, his fingers twitching slightly.

Tonight would be their final night.

On the other side of the wall, Bai Yu was out cold.

He was lifted from the couch by the guards and stretched out on the bed.

Interrogator opened the door for Imuir and bowed. "Your Grace, he is here."

Imuir nodded calmly. "Dismissed."

Interrogator saluted and withdrew.

On the bed, the doctor lay still.

His hands were folded over his abdomen, his high nose bridge framed by relaxed brows, his expression serene.

The mattress dipped slightly as the Duke sat by the bedside.

He didn’t turn on the lights. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting a silvery glow across the room, softening the sharp contours of Bai Yu’s strikingly handsome face.

It was a face too beautiful to forget, but...

Imuir thought, how tragic he would never see it again.

From now on, Bai Yu from Irelia will be a rotted, unrecognizable corpse in the wilderness, while the doctor will be exiled, never to return.

He will never know Imuir's identity. These past few months have been nothing but the duke’s own dream.

Imuir pulled back the blanket and, for the first time in his human form, lay down beside the doctor.

The doctor’s body was still warm, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. His gentle curves were soft and pleasing. Tentatively, Imuir reached out and embraced him.

The breadth of the doctor’s chest was perfect for holding. Nestling against him felt like all harm would be kept at bay, leaving only pure safety.

He nuzzled against Bai Yu’s shoulder blade and thought, *How pitiful.*

A grand duke, brought to this.

Yet the warmth beside the doctor soothed the bone-deep pain of his transformation. Bai Yu had the bitter scent of medicine—cold and clinical, yet clean, warmed by the heat of his skin. Imuir greedily breathed in twice before his gaze settled on Bai Yu’s lips.

He had wanted to kiss the doctor for a long time.

Bai Yu’s lips were thin, stern and indifferent when he wasn’t smiling, but when they curved, they looked so kissable. Now, deep in slumber, his facial muscles relaxed, his lips pale pink, like unripe berries.

When Bai Yu was awake, Imuir didn’t dare—not even in his kitten form. But now, he pressed a finger against the doctor’s cheek and rubbed it shamelessly, as if getting back for these past days. Then, he leaned down and stole a kiss.

Light and fleeting.

Imuir had never kissed before, didn’t know how. He didn’t even try to part Bai Yu’s lips or slip his tongue inside. It was more like a clumsy nuzzle, like a kitten licking to show affection.

Then, he shed his clothes, transformed into a pale golden kitten, and curled up on the doctor’s stomach.

Curling into a ball, he thought, *This is the last time.*

The last time he would sleep in Bai Yu’s arms. After tomorrow, they’d be strangers.

In every transformation period to come, no one would hold him or massage his aching joints.

The kitten nestled against the doctor and drifted into shallow sleep.

At dawn, Imuir got up from Bai Yu and returned to human form. Holding his clothes to cover his naked body, he slowly traced his fingertips over the doctor’s cool brows, his beautiful jawline, as if to memorize his face.

The butler knocked. *"Duke, daybreak is almost here."*

According to plan, they had to pass through the city gates under cover of night, smuggling Bai Yu out undetected. With barely an hour left before dawn, once the city stirred to life, the operation would be impossible.

Startled, Imuir withdrew his hand, fastened his buttons, and lowered his gaze. *"Come in."*

He stood by the bed, erasing all traces.

The Guards averted their eyes as they placed Bai Yu on a stretcher, then loaded him onto a cart hidden beneath hay, bound for the city’s outskirts. Meanwhile, in the western wilderness, a decomposed male corpse—unrecognizable and covered in torture marks—was left to be discovered. The duke issued a proclamation declaring the traitor Bai Yu dead.

*

When Bai Yu awoke, his entire body ached.

Straw poked at his waist beneath him, jabbing with every bump of the cart. He pressed a hand to his lower back and opened his eyes to an endless expanse of azure sky.

According to geography books, Irelia’s latitude was high, its borders surrounded by lush grasslands. He sat up on the cart, gazing at the emerald-green fields stretching to the horizon, the clouds soft and cotton-white, saturated like a Windows XP desktop.

They raced down a narrow path, destination unknown.

Bai Yu chuckled hoarsely.

Rubbing his lower back, he thought, *Silly little cat. Was that all the courage you had?*

When the drink came, he expected to wake up in a dungeon, with Imuir stripping him of his identity, locking him by his side, and threatening that he couldn’t go anywhere.

But even though he didn’t want to, he still set him free?

...Turns out, for all his tough act, the Grand Duke still had a soft heart.

Bai Yu even found a package beside him, containing a fresh set of clothes—clearly prepared by the Duke. Around his waist was a pouch, which Bai Yu opened to find seven or eight small gold bars and a handful of easy-to-sell gold pellets. None bore the Duke’s insignia, so they’d be untraceable cash. Additionally, there was a silk-wrapped box inside, holding a thick stack of eyeglass lenses.

Enough to last Bai Yu till the end of time.

Bai Yu couldn’t help but smile even more.

He imagined Imuir secretly packing the gold pellets for him, huffing in irritation but still fretting over him going blind and tripping, stuffing in a pile of lenses. The thought made his lips curl unconsciously.

...Honestly… kind of cute.

66 had been lying nearby gloomily counting clouds like a gloomy little mushroom. Finally noticing Bai Yu was awake, it drifted over with a whiny drawl: "Su Zhu—"

Bai Yu: "Speak properly."

66 sniffled: "Why aren’t you dead? This wasn’t the plan, boohoo..."

"..."

If it were human, it’d be a blubbering wreck by now.

Bai Yu sighed softly: "Sorry, 66, but I’m afraid I also..."

He and 66 were familiar enough by now to know the fates of its previous hosts. Being a system meant for torment, 66’s first two hosts had ended up rolling into bed with the protagonist, all cuddly and happy, leaving 66 barely squeaking by with a passing grade, the lowest-ranked among all systems.

66: "QAQ"

It dabbed at imaginary tears: "You’re afraid of what..."

Bai Yu shook his head, tugging the weepy little system into a hug and changing the subject: "What time is it? Where are we?"

66: "Two PM. Somewhere between Illyria and Rhys. We’ll reach a farm soon."

Bai Yu called out: "Coachman, turn around."

The coachman was one of the Duke’s Guards, driving toward the farm. He hadn’t expected the doctor to wake so soon and froze at the command: "What?"

A swift chop to the neck. The cart lurched to a stop as the coachman slammed into the frame.

Bai Yu withdrew his hand, dumping the man into the hay before stripping him of his clothes and Guard insignia. He whipped the cart around and took off at full speed.

He’d be lucky to make it back to Illyria before midnight.

*

Late at night, the Grand Duke’s estate.

Having signed off on the last document, Imuir rubbed his temples.

The butler stood by his side. With two valets gone one after another, the Grand Duke had no one to attend to him closely, leaving the old man to step in, aching bones and all.

He collected the reviewed documents, extinguished the reading lamp, and asked softly: "Your Grace, your monthly day of remembrance is coming up. Will you still be heading to the countryside like always?"

The Grand Duke made a monthly trip alone to his mother’s residence, a long-standing tradition.

Imuir bit his lower lip and nodded: "I leave at dawn, as always. No one needs to come with me."

The so-called commemoration for his mother was merely a pretense. Only Imuir himself knew that his mutation phase was approaching.

During this time, he would turn into a frail, helpless kitten, his body aching and barely able to move. It was the most vulnerable and secretive moment for the Grand Duke—one that must never come to light.

Even the old steward could not learn of this secret. Otherwise, if his identity as a descendant of slaves were exposed, Imuir dreaded to think of the consequences.

The old steward bowed assent and respectfully withdrew.

Imuir nodded, stood up, and made sure to cross paths with a few servants to create the illusion of his departure. Then, he returned to his room and buried his clothes deep in the wardrobe.

The Grand Duke had plenty of garments, and no one would miss one unworn set.

Soon, he felt the familiar dull throbbing in his body. His vision gradually lowered, his muscles trembled uncontrollably, and the inevitable transformation began…

He collapsed to the floor—now just a small kitten.

Unlike the brash, swaggering antics he displayed at Bai Yu’s home, Imuir couldn’t risk being spotted now. He cautiously concealed his presence, leaped onto the windowsill, and used the cover of night to slip into the garden alone.

He skirted around the man-made swan lake and found a small hole in the grass, barely big enough for a kitten to pass through.

Had Bai Yu been there, he would have recognized it as the underground forbidden zone he had once visited.

This was where Imuir stayed every mutation phase.

Officially, he declared the Grand Duke had left the estate and could not appear in the manor during these days. Similarly, the kitten could not be seen either, or risk sharp eyes piecing together the pattern—that the kitten and the Grand Duke always appeared separately.

Nor could Imuir wander the streets. Illuria was not safe, and stray kittens were nothing more than toys for casual torture or killing. Given his frail state, venturing out would be perilous.

Imuir also had no one to turn to for help. To keep his origins hidden, no one knew the Grand Duke’s true identity. Even his most trusted subordinates might betray him upon learning the secret, ensuring his disappearance without a body.

He had to find a safe and hidden place to endure these agonizing days.

That place was the underground space of the Grand Duke’s estate—the lightless prison where he had grown up.

Long abandoned and forbidden, no one would come here. The underground was deep enough, soundproof enough, that even if he screamed in pain during his mutation, no one would hear.

The irony wasn’t lost on him—crawling back willingly into the place that had once held his childhood nightmares, now serving as his only refuge.

His body weak and unsteady, his steps faltering, Imuir felt dizzy and disoriented. He missed the stairs and pitched forward, crashing down them until he landed on the ground.

…It hurt.

The kitten’s ears flattened back (like airplane wings), but this time, no one was there to rub them for comfort.

Imuir shakily forced himself onto trembling paws and dragged himself to the center of the basement. Then, curling his tail around himself, he lay still.

On the first day of his mutation, he had no energy left to move.

Pain rolled in like unending waves from all directions. Cold sweat soaked through his silvery fur, leaving it damp and clinging to his body.

…So cold.

The basement was built beneath the lake, perpetually devoid of sunlight—dark, damp, and frigid. The ground beneath him was icy and slick with condensation, the air thick with the scent of decaying moss. Staying here too long, the kitten would likely catch mange.

But Imuir had no other choice.

The pain forced him to gasp for breath. His large tail draped over his body, but it couldn’t retain the faint warmth within. Imuir felt his body heat leaching away.

This was a familiar process. Every previous mutation period had been the same. Illuria’s winters were long and harsh, and each time, the ordeal was especially unbearable.

The kitten's azure eyes were glistening with moisture. He blinked hard, but couldn't stop the tears from pooling and spilling over.

...So uncomfortable.

Though all his previous shifting phases had been like this, this time was especially different.

He had already safely passed two transition periods at the doctor's place.

The doctor's house was warm, the blankets were warm, his fingertips were warm, his chest and stomach were warm too. He would carefully cradle the little ball of fur in his arms, pressing on his aching muscles to ease the pain, preparing nourishing porridge for him so he wouldn’t go hungry.

The doctor's windowsill caught the sunlight, free of dampness. The doctor carried a clean, fresh scent, with no trace of mildew. Everything around the doctor was infinitely better than this.

Imuir tightly shut his eyes, his body convulsing under the sharp pain. Filled with misery, he finally tasted the salty taste of tears at the corner of his lips.

The kitten stubbornly kept his eyes closed, trying to hold back the tears, but the unexplained sadness clung to his heart. He could only lift a paw and roughly wipe his face.

Though he had endured so many seasons like this before, a kitten who had once been spoiled and loved couldn't bear the basement now.

Imuir missed Bai Yu.

But what was the point of missing him?

The doctor was a member of The Black Robe Society. The doctor wanted to kill him. If the doctor knew the kitten was Imuir, he would've drawn his blade by now. All that affection and kindness was stolen, and would disappear eventually.

As the descendant of slaves, as punishment for killing his brothers to seize power, perhaps he deserved to suffer in this basement, enduring this pain repeatedly.

...Besides, he had already sent the doctor out of the city.

He figured Bai Yu should have settled down at the farm by now. At the latest, in a few more days, he would leave for another city.

They would never see each other again.

Imuir would never find another person willing to hold him during his transformation, comfort him, or make porridge for him.

The more he thought about it, the more aggrieved he felt. Roughly rubbing his face with his paw did nothing to wipe away the wetness. In the end, the sorrow only grew, turning into muffled whimpers.

But suddenly, he heard a sigh.

The iron plate covering the basement had been lifted at some point. Imuir felt himself lifted gently into someone’s waiting arms.

Imuir blinked up blearily, meeting Bai Yu’s familiar face. The doctor’s movements were tender as he softly rubbed the kitten’s ears.

"Now whose little kitten is this, crying all alone? And looking so pitiful too."

Author's Note:

Doctor: "What's my kitten doing crying here alone? Come to me, little one."