Chapter 32: The cub’s anxiety erupts

Chapter 32 The Little One’s Restless Outburst

The snowball fight was over in no time.

They obeyed Amos on the battlefield—but surely not in a silly snowball fight, right?

It soon devolved into a free-for-all. Once they’d exhausted the nearby snow, Xiao Chuzao was chilled to the bone, and Butler Mori had the meal ready—only then did everything stop.

Everyone was soaked.

Even Amos was a little worse for wear—a rare sight.

At the doorway, he gave his wings a quick shake, sending snowflakes flying. Xiao Chuzao, sheltered under his wings, watched and imitated him, squirming like a wet puppy shaking itself dry. He succeeded—drenching Amos—before getting scooped up by his collar.

Amos wiped the water from his face and looked at this so-called "dutiful" kid blinking up at him. Xiao Chuzao was still grinning, with his rosy lips and pearly teeth, he looked downright cherubic.

Compared to before, he’d grown much livelier.

"Papa, let Zao Zao clean you up."

Xiao Chuzao fished out a small handkerchief and dabbed at Amos’s face.

Amos bent down to let the kid reach.

"Hey, hey—"

Mei Lun, who’d entered right after them, eyed the child holding up the handkerchief.

"Hey, does the king get all the pampering? What about me?"

He’d been Amos’s primary target—talk about picking on your elders!

Amos, still holding the five-year-old, shot Mei Lun a look before extending the child toward him.

Mori, ever attentive, passed him a clean handkerchief.

The little one took it and, humoring Mei Lun, wiped his face too.

Mei Lun instantly brightened. Smiling at the soft little bundle, he couldn’t resist ruffling the child’s hair.

Kids really were something else.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so freely.

Xiao Chuzao was finally set down.

Frey and An Ya were the last to enter.

The little one grabbed another fresh handkerchief and beckoned to Uncle Frey.

He played no favorites.

Frey, caught off guard, knelt as the child wiped the water from his face.

He rated this kind of attention too?

So small, his chilly little hands patting his face with solemn care.

An Ya lurked in the back, shooting glances their way. He’d taken the brunt of it—the guy was a grump on the best of days and had rubbed everyone the wrong way at some point. Once all hell broke loose, nobody knew who was fighting who.

An Ya had been targeted several times and was completely drenched.

He automatically made his way upstairs to change without hesitation.

He knew full well that, given the little one’s attitude toward him, he wouldn’t get the chance to get his face wiped either.

Tried and failed, failed and tried, the finally quiet An Ya found himself getting all worked up around the little cub.

—He. Didn’t. Care.

Not. One. Bit.

Really.

Just some kid, that’s all. He was only paying extra attention to Xiao Chuzao because he hadn’t found the right moment to apologize—that’s. It.

Xiao Chuzao, holding his little handkerchief, watched as An Ya blew past in a huff: ?

But oh well.

The little one still remembered this person didn’t like him.

He wasn’t the type to go chasing after people.

Perhaps due to too many times getting brushed off, he was cautious in his interactions with others. Though only five, he had already heard enough nasty comments—being called a monster, accused of pretending, criticized for this and that. An Ya’s curiosity was too half-hearted, and after being frightened a few times, the cub instinctively avoided trouble and stopped engaging with him.

But the little one didn’t let it bother him much.

After changing and having his wings dried, the cub clutched his bottle, drinking cub formula while his wings rested on Amos’s lap. Amos tenderly straightened his little one’s feathers.

Once Xiao Chuzao was done eating, Amos and the others finally went to eat.

Xiao Chuzao sat nearby, enjoying his dessert—little sweet berries.

Seated beside Amos, the little cub’s eyes lit up at how sweet they were.

After eating half a bowl, he gave Amos’s sleeve a tug.

“Dada.”

Amos and the others had mostly finished their meal, and they’d just started clearing the table.

Hearing the cub’s voice, Amos looked down and thought it over.

“What’s wrong? Still hungry for something? Or do you want to gnaw on… a Psychic Weapon?”

At those words, the Crown Clan members still at the table flinched—

Especially Mei Lun, whose Psychic Weapon had been gnawed on before.

The cub actually considered it, licking his lips before shaking his little head.

“Not right now.”

This wasn’t like last time.

This time, Xiao Chuzao didn’t have that same desperate urge.

He just felt—totally worn out.

Here’s the refined translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

---

Right now, he was completely exhausted. If left alone quietly for a while, he’d probably fall asleep—like he was running on empty, so much so that he didn’t feel like doing anything, not even hungry.

But the little one held up the fruit in his hand.

"Daddy, it’s super sweet. Daddy, here ya go."

Amos looked at the fruit as the little one clambered onto the chair.

The kid was so tiny—clearly, he hadn’t been well cared for before. Overall, he looked smaller than most five-year-olds. Wearing soft woolen socks, standing only put him at eye level with them. Beneath his soft black hair, his honey-brown eyes flickered with worry.

In his tiny hand was a red fruit.

Honestly, Xiao Chuzao was dead tired. He also felt wiped out, ready to crash, but because he sensed something off about Amos, he pushed through until now.

Xiao Chuzao had once heard people say that when someone’s unhappy, they give off a bitter vibe.

The toddler didn’t know what had happened to Amos.

But he didn’t like this feeling.

If Amos ate something sweet, would he cheer up? Would that bitter scent disappear then?

Thinking this, the little one shoved the Crown Clan cubs’ favorite sweet fruit toward Amos’s mouth.

With it pressed right against his lips, Amos—who’d never been fed like this before—had no choice but to open up, letting the fruit be stuffed in.

The kid still peered up hopefully.

Amos reached out and ruffled the cub’s head. The soft touch softened Amos’s edge a little.

"Your Majesty, today you got the kiddie treatment," Mei Lun teased from the side.

Just then, the tyke turned to him.

He held out another fruit, sweet and obedient.

"Gramps Mei Lun, here ya go. It’s yummy!"

Mei Lun, who’d just teased Amos, got a taste of his own medicine. He didn’t hesitate for a second before snatching the fruit.

"The kiddie treatment’s not bad either."

He could roll with the punches.

Frey and An Ya stared at Mei Lun, dumbstruck.

The little guy wasn’t finished.

About half a bowl of sweet fruit remained.

He handed some to Frey.

Finally, the kid turned to An Ya.

--- (Note: The translation now reflects improved fluency, style consistency, and natural English phrasing while preserving the warmth and childlike tone of the original.)

An Ya looked at the little one.

An awkward silence hung in the air—

Frey gave An Ya a nudge under the table.

An Ya blinked back to attention and was about to say something.

Then he saw the toddler climb down from the chair.

The warm floor tiles met the child's tiny feet clad in fluffy woolen socks. His footsteps pattered softly yet muffled, like a heartbeat they'd never heard before, resonating in every Crown Clan member's chest.

There had never been one for him.

An Ya pursed his lips slightly, his expression unchanged, and shot Frey a glance: What was that for?

Well, no use dwelling on it. He'd find a good opportunity later to apologize—that was all. Life had gone on just fine without a child before, and now was no different...

A tiny, pale hand emerged from under the table.

An Ya's breath caught.

The table towered over the toddler.

Standing on the ground, he couldn't see the tabletop.

He tiptoed slightly, his tiny golden halo bobbing up from beneath the table. "Here," the soft white hand pushed a fruit toward An Ya.

Mission accomplished, the child seemed pleased, his little halo giving a happy wiggle. He returned to his seat, climbed up, and resumed eating his remaining fruit.

When the toddler had glanced at An Ya earlier, he'd noticed An Ya staring at the fruit in Frey's hand. Though An Ya's face gave nothing away, he'd looked for several seconds.

Zao Zao bit his lip, unsure if he'd imagined it.

But he knew that ignored feeling all too well.

His little face scrunched in thought before finally deciding to share the fruit with An Ya—and he felt happy about it.

"For me?"

An Ya asked softly.

Watching the toddler across from him nod,

An Ya picked up the fruit.

Juice practically burst through its thin skin, just like the warmth blooming in his chest.

He could've sworn it still held the child's warmth.

An Ya's throat tightened.

Mori chose that moment to approach.

"Your Majesty, Peng Yue of the Peng family and General Changle of the 10th Army have arrived. The vanguard's report has also been delivered. They're waiting in the conference room."

Amos gave a curt nod.

He let the toddler entertain himself on the rug after finishing the fruit. The child itched to follow and wait outside, but when Amos and the others emerged after changing, the hallway stood empty.

"As for today, regarding Zao Zao's condition... I didn't notice anything unusual. Did any of you?"

Mei Lun stood by the staircase, his voice hushed.

"No, the kid seems just as before, though he's been more clingy these past two days," Frey pondered, the Crown Clan emblem on his shoulder insignia glinting faintly.

"To be precise, he's been sticking closer to Amos."

But that made sense.

After all, given what the kid had been through, it wasn't surprising he sought more comfort and protection from his guardian.

An Ya hadn't eaten the fruit. He held it in his hand, staring at it for a moment before expressionlessly tucking the small fruit into his pocket, wrapping it carefully in layers of mental energy for protection.

Amos was the last to emerge, pressing a hand to his temple with a dark expression.

"Your Majesty."

"Amos—"

"I'm fine. But I may need to leave for a while soon."

Amos suppressed the dark emotions.

"Second Brother, is your mental energy acting up again?"

An Ya's brow furrowed instantly.

"Has there been any further research on what that substance is?"

"The research institute has concluded: it's a unique agent that stimulates mental activity. Once it attaches, it's hard to get rid of. But the substance itself is extremely rare. It requires consuming large quantities of materials containing it, then extracting it with one's own mental energy. Most wouldn't have the courage to ingest things like unprocessed ore. We were already aware of this substance, but its concentration across the galaxy is so low that we assessed it wouldn't pose a threat. We never expected that individual to manage enriching it. But this won't happen again."

Frey pulled up his communicator.

"All Crown Clan members outside have been warned and are on guard. The salvage teams also reported—the Falcon is a rare interstellar species, not ordinary humans. That race is reduced to just a few now. No other species could replicate this."

The Hymn Organization—

That group targeting all Longlived races across the stars.

This was clearly a play targeting the Crown Clan.

Yet there was some comfort—before the enemy could accumulate a dangerous concentration, that individual had been eliminated.

Still, it had affected Amos's mental energy.

Amos had been in a bad mood lately.

Though he never spoke of it, the pressure had always been immense.

The despair of the Crown Clan wasn't lighter based on rank.

That destiny showed no favoritism.

"Don't mention this to Zao Zao," he added, lowering his voice and ending the discussion.

Here's the edited translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

He thought of the cub's poor physical condition after assembling the halo for Kaman.

Amos no longer dared to take any risks.

Maintaining the status quo was fine—

The group descended the stairs, deliberately lowering their voices.

Then they all froze.

Under the warm sunlight, the cub had curled up on the soft carpet without anyone noticing. The little snowman Mori had restored for him still stood on the windowsill, casting a shadow over the small figure.

He had finally given in to exhaustion, his long, thick lashes trembling slightly as he breathed softly.

The Crown Clan members' gazes involuntarily softened.

"The sunlight is nice today."

*

"Yeah, the snow will melt in a couple of days."

This meeting didn't last long either.

The main issues were compensation and replenishment for the guard forces, along with dossiers on outstanding talents from the Saint Cas Empire's First Military Academy.

When everything concluded, State Minister Peng Yue from the Peng family was first to leave the council hall.

He appeared to be a composed middle-aged man in his forties, though in reality, he was already eighty—positioned exactly at the transition between the old and new generations of the Crown Clan.

General Changle of the 10th Army quickly caught up and patted Peng Yue's shoulder.

"It's been a while, Teacher Peng."

Peng Yue turned and, recognizing him, exhaled slightly.

"General Changle, I heard your last pursuit failed to catch the Hymn Organization?"

"Those guys are really fast, if nothing else."

Changle waved his hand dismissively.

"No leads to follow—like headless flies. Impossible to find a needle in a haystack. It was infuriating."

"Why did only your 10th Army go after them? What exactly was the 9th Army doing? Why hasn't His Majesty or any of the Princes made announcements? And with the Fourth Prince about to return, how are all these things connected?"

"Better not to ask, Teacher Peng. It's classified—though I've heard your son has been excelling at the First Military Academy. He should take advantage of this opportunity."

Peng Yue's expression darkened.

"The atmosphere has been tense lately. The royal court is under tight security—many routes are closed off, all leading to the Princes' palaces. You must know something. What inside information do you have? We should make preparations."

Peng Yue's ancestors owed their position to the Crown Clan. Even now, Saint Cas's ability to maintain independence and relative peace within its borders depended entirely on the Crown Clan.

The state of the Emperor and Princes' psychic energy concerned all Saint Casians.

Yet the seemingly omnipotent Crown Clan had failed to improve matters—instead, things had worsened. Recent generations had devoted themselves to developing their powers.

This made people wonder whether they were planning for the Saint Cas Empire's future after their departure. Meanwhile, under the Emperor's indulgence, some were becoming bolder—a situation that left people uneasy and powerless.

Here's the edited translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

Martial law is usually not a good sign.

Chang Le looked at Peng Yue.

"Professor Peng, relax a bit. Perhaps things will take a turn for the better."

"No, they won't—"

Peng Yue said gloomily, producing an ornate velvet case from his pocket.

"This isn't just about the fate of the Crown Clan—it's about ours too. Everything comes at a price, just like Lord Kaman, who once left the Saint Cas Empire. Our family promised Lady Kailina to keep his shoulder insignia safe, but now it seems these two insignia will remain with our Peng Family forever—"

Chang Le was prodding Peng Yue's arm.

Peng Yue growled, "You rascal, don't forget I was your teacher once. Show some respect—"

"I heard from His Majesty Amos that my mother collected the shoulder insignia I lost? And entrusted them to your family for safekeeping? Is this it?"

The case was snatched from his hand.

Peng Yue stared blankly at the figure standing before him.

Time had left almost no mark on Kaman.

He had just awakened, his face still ashen, just as it was when he left years ago.

Peng Yue remembered—back when Lord Kaman departed, he was still a young man. The Peng Family had been close to Kaman's family, and he thought he'd never see Lord Kaman again.

Yet here Kaman stood before him, calm and collected.

"Thanks."

Kaman opened the case, glanced inside, and gave Peng Yue a dismissive wave.

He studied Peng Yue for a moment.

"You've changed quite a bit, haven't you? We'll reminisce later... Ah, my reckless departure back then has caused so much trouble now."

Kaman stowed the case, took two steps forward, then turned back under Peng Yue's stunned and bewildered gaze.

"Oh, right—I just heard... your family has a kid? What do your kids... usually like?"

*

Peng Yue: ???

By the time everything was settled, Amos and the others didn't return until nightfall.

Pinpointing Job and Joshua's location had taken considerable time, but both were in rough shape and wouldn't interact with them.

Amos wasn't in the best state either. The impact of that rare substance on his mental energy was still uncertain.

Amos decided to revisit the ruined homeworld when he had time, to release his mental energy once more and see if there was any improvement.

The kid was already asleep in his crib by then.

Amos checked on the child briefly before heading straight to his own room. He didn't notice that his lingering mental presence made the child's halo flicker, his small body curling up uneasily.

Amos still had much to deal with. Two members of the Crown Clan from the Dwight Family were still out battling the mutant beast corps, while Fourth Seat Fei Man was scheduled to return. There was also a meeting set for first thing tomorrow. Amos returned to his room. As usual, he leaned against the bedside and lay awake for hours.

The Psychic Crown materialized, and Amos studied his reflection—within just two days, the silver-black ornate crown had developed another hairline fracture.

Another branch was on the verge of shattering.

The deterioration was accelerating.

This was also why Amos was losing grip on his psychic control.

But that was irrelevant—

Amos looked at his crown's luminous aura in the mirror.

He could probably endure for a long time yet.

Long enough to pave the way forward for his little one.

But the cub's prognosis was unclear.

He wouldn’t allow Xiao Chuzao to touch his crown's luminous aura and try to repair it.

That would be a wrong decision.

The shaken parent, frightened once more by the child’s medical report, thought so.

Yet at that moment, a soft knock came at the door.

Amos startled.

Absorbed in contemplation, his psychic energy covered a wide range, but all were familiar presences, so he hadn’t paid attention.

But now, outside the door, there was a faint, childlike presence.

Amos opened the door.

His cub stood at the doorway, lifting his head at the sound—his baby-soft cheeks dotted with sweat.

"Zao Zao?"

"Dada—"

The child had come barefoot, clad in white-pink velvet pajamas, his crown's golden glow shimmering atop his head. His large eyes brimmed with tears as he wiped them, his tiny wings drooping behind him.

It was a heart-wrenching sight.

"What’s wrong?"

Amos hesitated before scooping him up.

"Zao Zao had the scariest dream—"

The child wiped his tears and reached to wrap his arms around Amos’s neck.

"Dreamed Dada's glow broke… Dada smelled like medicine… Zao Zao—Wanna see Dada's glowy crown."

Amos wondered whether the child had been influenced by him, leading to such a dream.

Instinctively, he wanted to deflect, crooning with forced calm.

"It’s alright, Dada's right here, aren't I?"

"Zao Zao, Zao Zao wants to see baba's halo, Zao Zao, Zao Zao can mend halos—Zao Zao can help—"

The little one wiped his tears, refusing to give up, his warm little body pressed tightly against Amos. He was desperate to tell Amos that he was useful, that he could halt fate's course—but at what cost? Those reports seemed to flash before Amos' eyes again, instantly setting his already frayed nerves on edge.

"Zao Zao!"

Amos' expression turned suddenly stern.

"Listen, baba's telling you now, you are never to repair halos again, understand?"

His tone and expression were too harsh.

Little Chuzao froze, staring at Amos blankly.

He seemed frightened.

Amos realized he'd snapped. He took a deep breath and carried the little one into the room.

He set the child down on the bed, crouching beside him so their eyes were level. Amos hadn't expected Chuzao to be so sensitive to shifts in psychic energy.

"Sorry, baba might have lost his cool. Baba should have talked to you properly—"

The little one continued sniffling, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I don't want to."

He wiped his eyes with tiny hands, sobbing as he spoke, but the tears just kept coming. Amos had never seen Chuzao cry like this before—his little face was flushed red from crying.

"Don’t want baba’s halo to break—Zao Zao worked so hard, Zao Zao worked so hard to get baba back—Zao Zao, Zao Zao wants to be a happy little angel-child, without baba…"

Finally, as if letting everything out at once, he cried so hard he could barely catch his breath. Perhaps because Chuzao was clever, he had sensed something from Amos' demeanor. And he knew very well—without a halo, one would die. Combined with what he'd sensed earlier, his unease had reached its peak and finally erupted.

His tearful, hiccuping sobs, left with nowhere to go after the nightmare, demanded confirmation. He looked up at Amos with pitiful, pleading eyes, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Without baba, Zao Zao can’t be happy… Zao Zao is strong Zao Zao, Zao Zao doesn’t want to cry—but Zao Zao is so worried about baba, baba doesn’t, sob, doesn’t tell Zao Zao anything—"

His tiny hands clutched Amos' clothes tightly, crying so hard the air grew thick with his sobs. "Zao Zao is so scared—baba, Zao Zao wants to see baba’s halo—Zao Zao wants, wants baba to say it's okay, please? Baba..."