Chapter 393: If: Imuir Hears Bai Yu’s Thoughts

Chapter 393 If: Imuir Hears Bai Yu's Inner Thoughts

Imuir awoke to searing pain.

There was a deep wound in his abdomen, trickling blood, the nearby fur matted with blood. As he opened his eyes, he saw bloodstained curtains.

The high-powered medical incandescent lamp overhead cast a pale glow, illuminating the gunmetal surgical table, instrument stand, and the sharp edge of a scalpel, reflecting a cold metallic sheen.

This was an operating room.

Illiria was lawless, overrun by gangs, with many back-alley clinics involved in illegal experiments, organ trafficking, and other illicit activities. Imuir was no stranger to such places, but he never dreamed he’d end up here—as a damn cat.

Yes, the esteemed Duke of Illiria was a freak who could turn into a cat.

Imuir’s mind was foggy. After the assassination attempt, he had lost too much blood and could no longer maintain his human form, shrinking instead into a tiny platinum kitten. In Illiria, where even human rights were not fully guaranteed, animal rights were a joke.

In this operating room, he was just a helpless kitten, at the mercy of those who might slice him open, paw through his guts, and discard his body by the sewers.

No, no…

Imuir thrashed weakly, trying to crawl toward the edge of the surgical table. Even if it was futile, he couldn’t just lie there and wait for death.

Then—slender hands pinned him effortlessly.

A cold voice spoke: "Where d’you think you’re going, kitten?"

Imuir’s fur stood on end as he stiffly turned his head toward the voice. The person wore a worn-out lab coat, tall and handsome; his sharp features and icy stare radiated menace.

—The spitting image of a back-alley butcher.

Imuir flinched into a ball, bracing for possible harm, but the man pressed down on his head and hindquarters, yanking him flat to expose the wound.

Was he going to die here? No, no…

"Damn, this puncture’s deep. Needs debridement, sutures, and antibiotics. Who’d stab a kitten this small?"

"...?"

What was that voice?

The voice in his head made Imuir jump. It didn’t come from around him—it echoed directly in his mind.

Confused, he glanced around, but the only person nearby was the butcher in this chop-shop clinic.

"Dumb cat, moving around with such a bad injury. Doesn’t it hurt?"

"...?"

Dumb cat? Who? Him?

Before he could process it, the doctor picked up a syringe, drawing liquid from a vial. The silver needle flashed in Imuir’s face.

Platinum Kitten froze.

What was in that liquid?

"Gotta numb him first. Otherwise, scraping and stitching’ll kill him awake. This little guy’d croak from the pain."

"...?"

Imuir looked at himself, then at the doctor, skeptically curling his tail like a question mark.

Anesthesia? Debridement? Suturing?

Was this doctor actually trying to treat him?

Was he hearing the doctor’s thoughts?

Though still doubtful, he couldn’t help but lower his guard.

At that moment, Imuir realized that while the doctor’s words were firm, his movements were gentle.

He carefully avoided Imuir’s wounds, handling him gently. The injection was expertly administered, leaving just a faint sting, like a mosquito bite. As the medicine took effect, Imuir gradually lost control of his body. His little head lolled to the side, and he collapsed.

Then Bai Yu got to work.

He trimmed the fur around the wound, cleaned and sutured it. Once everything was done, he moved the unconscious kitten to a bed.

When Imuir came to, he was smothered in soft blankets.

Nestled in the cotton, his body seemed to feel less pain. Imuir wanted to check his abdomen, but his head was stuck in a bulky cat "cone," preventing him from looking back.

What was this?

That doctor actually dared to put a collar on His Grace! That was for pets!

But upon closer inspection, he found his wound cool and the pain reduced. Even his mood had lifted—probably from the meds.

So those thoughts were real after all.

"Fine," Imuir flicked his tail and settled onto the doctor’s pillow, fully surrendering. "When in someone else’s house, you play by their rules."

At least the pillow was comfy.

As he lay there, his wobbly ears suddenly twitched, then perked up, turning toward the door.

He could’ve sworn he heard meat being chopped.

Imuir pouted, curling his tail around himself miserably.

Starving.

Ever since fleeing the ducal estate, he hadn’t eaten in a long time.

The doctor had treated his wounds—would the doctor feed him too?

Footsteps approached. The kitten cocked his head slightly, eyes fixed eagerly on the door.

The doctor walked in.

Bai Yu had removed his white coat, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, revealing well-defined forearms. A broad leather belt hugged his waist, his shirt tucked in haphazardly with the top and bottom buttons undone. Peeking past the edge of the cone, Imuir caught a glimpse of the heavy shadows beneath the undone buttons. His little face burned red, and he turned his head away.

H-how could he dress like this at home? What a shameless doctor!

Then, the smell of meat hit him.

The kitten turned his head back.

The doctor carried two food containers but made no move to give them to Imuir. Instead, he set them aside and suddenly reached for the kitten, turning him onto his back.

Imuir: "...Meow?"

Damn it, what is this doctor doing!

He was flipped onto his back on the bed by the doctor, his four short legs flailing in the air, both embarrassed and furious. Then, the doctor's thoughts sounded again.

"The wound is healing well. Hmm, still got enough energy to squirm—guess you're not hungry yet?"

"..."

Imuir's flailing legs froze midair.

He let out a tiny meow and rubbed his paw against the doctor's hand.

Hungry.

The doctor's thoughts came again: "Still clingy—kinda cute."

Imuir froze once more.

C... cute?

Before he could snap out of his daze, the doctor suddenly grabbed his butt and lifted him up.

*Imuir froze!*

The next second, he was placed on the table, with a bowl of mashed beef and a bowl of warm goat milk set before him.

The doctor pushed the two bowls forward: "Eat."

So it was food for him.

Imuir glanced up, putting on a dignified act for a second...

nom nom nom

The beef was the freshest tender cut, and the goat milk was rich and creamy. Starving, he practically went face-deep in the bowls as he ate.

"You little glutton, your whiskers are covered in milk."

*Imuir froze!*

Imuir glanced up cautiously. The doctor was looking down at him with the same indifferent gaze as always, unreadable.

"..."

Feeling guilty, Imuir shook his head, ignoring the milk-stained whiskers, and dug back in.

But halfway through, still not full, the doctor suddenly picked up the beef and milk bowls, about to leave.

*Imuir froze!*

He yowled in protest, unsure how to stop the doctor. Then, in his panic, he froze.

He seemed to know, as a pet, how to make the doctor stay.

After a moment of hesitation, Imuir hesitated, then sidled up, and rubbed his body against the doctor. His tail curled slightly, looping around the doctor's wrist. When the doctor turned back, Imuir batted his eyes up at him innocently, paws folded pleadingly, big, begging eyes, and let out a pitiful mewl.

Gimme more! Don’t go!

The doctor slightly raised an eyebrow and extended two fingers, brushing aside Imuir's tail.

He turned and walked away.

"!"

Imuir's outstretched paw froze mid-air.

W-what?!

He, a dignified grand duke, had lowered himself to act cute for the doctor, yet the doctor left without even looking back?

No, didn't he say he was cute?!

Damn that doctor!

The kitten seethed, powerless, his claws raking the tabletop repeatedly, seething with resentment.

Why take the food away? Wasn't he cute enough?!

Damn it, once he regained his position as grand duke, once he regained his position as grand duke...

Just then, the doctor's thoughts seeped through the door from the hallway.

"Just had surgery—shouldn’t overeat, might cause indigestion. Need to control portions. Best to put these away so the kitten can't find them."

"..."

Oh.

Imuir's scratching paused, and he obediently settled back down, his temper cooling.

Fine, he forgave the doctor.

With his abdominal injury, Imuir couldn't move around much, so his activity was limited to the doctor's large bed. He was satisfied with the soft cushion but found the sheets and covers a bit rough. After some rearranging, he curled up again and fell asleep on the doctor's pillow.

Having lost a lot of blood, Imuir was dead tired. He slept clear till evening, right until the doctor climbed into bed.

At the sound of movement, the kitten's ears twitched slightly as he cracked open his eyes. He saw Bai Yu undressing, his back turned, his spine tapering at his waist, his muscles taut and beautiful. The kitten watched for a while before burying his head guiltily, fidgeting with his Elizabethan collar.

The doctor was stripping carelessly again in front of him! Second time!

Small as he was, he occupied only a tiny space. Bai Yu lay down on the other side of the bed, staying on his side, neither touching nor disturbing the other.

Imuir rested on the other pillow, sneaking glances at Bai Yu's profile outlined by moonlight, his tail flicking absently. Even though the grand duke had seen countless valets, he had to admit—the doctor's looks were truly exceptional, handsomer than anyone he’d ever seen.

Imuir snuck another glance downward. The doctor's hands rested outside the blanket, long and slender fingers with distinct knuckles. When the faint calluses brushed against the kitten's chin fur, Imuir would purr in contentment.

After all, it did feel rather nice.

The Platinum Kitten daintily kneaded the pillow and let out a soft meow.

—"Hey, doctor, don't stay so far away. Since you provided food for this grand duke, I'll grant you the honor of petting me!"

If the doctor thought he was cute, surely he must want to pet the kitten, right?

Bai Yu shut his eyes.

Imuir: "......"

He watched powerlessly as Bai Yu's breathing gradually steadied, clearly sinking into deep slumber.

No pets? Really no pets?

Bai Yu remained completely unaware.

"......"

Whatever.

The kitten resentfully kneaded the pillow and prepared to sleep as well.

But in the middle of the night, a cold breeze blew by, making Imuir sneeze lightly and wake up from the chill.

The temperature difference between day and night in Illyria was extreme—sleeping on the pillow was just fine during the day, but way too cold at night.

The kitten curled its tail around itself, curled up tight, ready to go back to sleep. Yet before long, it sneezed again, one after another.

He peeked at the doctor.

With those broad shoulders and narrow waist, the doctor seemed to have a great build. His bed's gotta be nice and warm, huh?