Time flew; years passed. The Child of Destiny from Guardian legend — that oncepitiful baby — grew up under the careful care of his “family.”

  Though his two guardians were a bit clumsy and roughhanded, it was their first time raising a child, and overall they were thorough, never neglecting him.

  He grew well enough — a sallow little face with a high nose bridge, still those unusual ears, thick brows over deepset doublelidded eyes, and dark circles that never left him.

  In height, he was on par with his peers, but thin — his small frame hung in a finefabric Tshirt that looked loose, like clothes on a hanger, the collar revealing clear collarbones.

  His black hair was sparse and fine, sticking up in all directions like a bird’s nest after sleep, impossible to smooth down.

  The boy’s full name was Zhuge Jun (Zhūgě Jùn，诸葛俊) — a pitiful yet clever child, likely to be brilliant beyond imagination. After all, the Zhuge clan was one of the great ancient families, rulers of this city, known for their high intelligence.

  It was said that here once lived a genius unseen in a thousand years, one of the top figures in Guardian history — rivaling the Three Grandmasters of antiquity.

  Qing and Yi, following their master’s teachings, worked together earnestly to accompany the child’s growth. But as time went on and work grew heavier, Yi had to relinquish his position as head of the city’s Hero Guild and president of the Martial Arts Conference, staying home fulltime to care for AhJun.

  “Aiyo—Yi (Yì，毅), I’m telling you, why is this child still so skinny? You two need to feed him more, fatten him up a bit — poor thing!”

  The voice belonged to Auntie Zhang (Zhāng dàmā，张大妈), the nextdoor neighbor, scolding Yi for the Nth time. Auntie Zhang always felt the two of them didn’t know how to raise a child — a perfectly good boy, and they’d let him get like this.

  Sharptongued but softhearted, Auntie Zhang had watched AhJun (ā Jùn，阿俊) grow up from infancy. She often came by to help, and among the busybodies in town, she was one of the few with a clear head — and the one closest to their family. She knew their situation well, but still couldn’t rest easy, convinced that even if the two were married, they weren’t entirely reliable as caregivers.

  “Alright — I know, Auntie Zhang, thank you for your concern!”

  Ever since Qing (Qīng，青) had focused on her work, Yi had singlehandedly taken on the responsibility of caring for the child — along with enduring Auntie Zhang’s nagging and the townsfolk’s gossip. Fortunately, Yi was naturally thickskinned, tall, and strong; those people only dared point and whisper from afar. One glare from Yi was enough to shut them up — he could handle it.

  Aside from Yi, the family’s little cat was often by AhJun’s side. Though a cat couldn’t do much, her constant presence meant the boy never seemed completely alone.

  The little cat had been brought home by Big Sister Qing during a work trip when AhJun was three — a stray feline exotic beast (māokē yìshòu，猫科异兽). When they met, it had been starving for days. Qing, moved by pity, brought it home.

  The cat was grateful to Qing and clung to her at first. But Qing seemed allergic to cat fur — one touch and she’d sneeze repeatedly — so the cat sensibly attached herself to AhJun instead.

  AhJun named her Xiǎo Fēi (小绯) because her fur was dark gray, with a light gray tail, and her bright, intelligent eyes were especially soothing — she resembled the mythical beast Fèi (朏) from ancient texts.

  Xiao Fei and AhJun got along well, making her the perfect companion. When AhJun felt down, she was there to comfort him, easing his loneliness.

  AhJun treated her well in return — they ate and slept together, and he often got up at night to tuck her in, like family. Outside the home, though, things were different. Sometimes he took Xiao Fei for walks, but there would always be a group of people pointing and muttering — whether about AhJun or the cat, he couldn’t tell.

  The boy knew he couldn’t win against the crowd, so he endured in silence. But Xiao Fei wasn’t so easily bullied — perched on his shoulder, she would meow defiantly at them, like a tiny bodyguard.

  Of course, there was also the elder (Zhǎngzhě，长者), head of the household, but she was often in seclusion, sometimes seeing the child only a few times a month.

  After AhJun turned three, the power within him — long suppressed — began to stir, battering against the technique’s protection. As he grew, the damage to his body increased, and to maintain the formation, the elder’s seclusion periods grew longer.

  Then, when AhJun was six or seven — specifically, on his seventh birthday — the family’s longfeared event finally happened.

  That day, as usual, everyone gathered to celebrate his birthday. The elder came out of seclusion to be with him, and Yi prepared a large table of dishes. Though many were things AhJun couldn’t eat much of, or at all, he was still happy — today, the whole family could finally sit down together for a warm meal.

  After dinner, as usual, the elder left the table quickly to return to seclusion, and Qing suddenly received orders to depart immediately on an outoftown mission…

  In the end, only AhJun, Yi, and the little cat remained in the dining room. Yi understood the boy’s feelings — he walked over and gently patted his head. The child, sensible as ever, glanced at his “brotherinlaw” with a faint, awkward smile, then went to wash up and sleep.

  He always went to bed early — by the Hai hour (hài shí，亥时), before 9 p.m., he would be in bed on his own. The elder had told him that only by sleeping and rising early could he be healthy — a health regimen from the Sacred Healer Clan (Shèngyī Zú，圣医族). As for waking early, they didn’t force him — his body needed as much rest as possible.

  By the time Yi finished the housework and went to the boy’s room, it was already 10 p.m. AhJun’s room was in the small attic on the third floor.

  The child was fast asleep, with Xiao Fei curled in her own cat bed — something AhJun had suggested, since she shouldn’t have to sleep on the floor. Under Qing’s direction, Yi had built her a cute little home, which she loved.

  Yi glanced at the boy, then, reassured, gently closed the door… but suddenly—

  Bang!

  As the door shut, for some reason the soft sound became extremely loud, even shaking the floor…

  “Not right!”

  Yi instantly placed a hand on the doorknob, sensing the change around him. The sounds and vibrations were drawing closer — his natural high perception told him something was wrong.

  Without thinking, he reopened the boy’s door and looked out the window — a familiar figure was prowling in front of their house. No need to guess — another exotic beast had come for the child. But how had it gotten in?

  No time to think — Yi, heat rising to his head, grabbed his weapon and leapt onto the roof. In the bright moonlight, he saw clearly: it was the Giant Monster “Diamond Silverback” (Jīngāng Yínbèi，金刚银背) that had vanished after the citygate battle years ago — and it looked even bigger than before. Clearly, it had been training hard.

  Without hesitation, Yi hurled a gleaming hidden weapon at it, shouting loudly to draw it away as bait. But the giant seemed deadset on trouble, ignoring him completely — perhaps an old acquaintance, knowing exactly what Yi’s combat power was.

  It ignored Yi’s harassment, continuing to hunt for its prey — until… a massive eye appeared outside the boy’s window.

  Damn… Yi’s heart clenched. Abandoning the taunt, he fired a signal flare to alert the Guardian Squad (Shǒuhù Duì，守护队), then raced back to the attic. Outside, the huge eye glowed dark red, scanning the room.

  Thankfully, Xiao Fei was awake, standing in front of the child, growling warnings at the giant.

  Suddenly, the monster’s gaze locked on the boy. Yi moved quickly to stand before Xiao Fei, blocking its line of sight.

  “Roooar—”

  Boom!

  “Aiyo—Yi (Yì，毅), I’m telling you, why is this child still so skinny? You two need to feed him more, fatten him up a bit — poor thing!”

  The voice belonged to Auntie Zhang (Zhāng dàmā，张大妈), the nextdoor neighbor, scolding Yi for the Nth time. Auntie Zhang always felt the two of them didn’t know how to raise a child — a perfectly good boy, and they’d let him get like this.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Sharptongued but softhearted, Auntie Zhang had watched AhJun (ā Jùn，阿俊) grow up from infancy. She often came by to help, and among the busybodies in town, she was one of the few with a clear head — and the one closest to their family. She knew their situation well, but still couldn’t rest easy, convinced that even if the two were married, they weren’t entirely reliable as caregivers.

  “Alright — I know, Auntie Zhang, thank you for your concern!”

  Ever since Qing (Qīng，青) had focused on her work, Yi had singlehandedly taken on the responsibility of caring for the child — along with enduring Auntie Zhang’s nagging and the townsfolk’s gossip. Fortunately, Yi was naturally thickskinned, tall, and strong; those people only dared point and whisper from afar. One glare from Yi was enough to shut them up — he could handle it.

  Aside from Yi, the family’s little cat was often by AhJun’s side. Though a cat couldn’t do much, her constant presence meant the boy never seemed completely alone.

  The little cat had been brought home by Big Sister Qing during a work trip when AhJun was three — a stray feline exotic beast (māokē yìshòu，猫科异兽). When they met, it had been starving for days. Qing, moved by pity, brought it home.

  The cat was grateful to Qing and clung to her at first. But Qing seemed allergic to cat fur — one touch and she’d sneeze repeatedly — so the cat sensibly attached herself to AhJun instead.

  AhJun named her Xiǎo Fēi (小绯) because her fur was dark gray, with a light gray tail, and her bright, intelligent eyes were especially soothing — she resembled the mythical beast Fèi (朏) from ancient texts.

  Xiao Fei and AhJun got along well, making her the perfect companion. When AhJun felt down, she was there to comfort him, easing his loneliness.

  AhJun treated her well in return — they ate and slept together, and he often got up at night to tuck her in, like family. Outside the home, though, things were different. Sometimes he took Xiao Fei for walks, but there would always be a group of people pointing and muttering — whether about AhJun or the cat, he couldn’t tell.

  The boy knew he couldn’t win against the crowd, so he endured in silence. But Xiao Fei wasn’t so easily bullied — perched on his shoulder, she would meow defiantly at them, like a tiny bodyguard.

  Of course, there was also the elder (Zhǎngzhě，长者), head of the household, but she was often in seclusion, sometimes seeing the child only a few times a month.

  After AhJun turned three, the power within him — long suppressed — began to stir, battering against the technique’s protection. As he grew, the damage to his body increased, and to maintain the formation, the elder’s seclusion periods grew longer.

  Then, when AhJun was six or seven — specifically, on his seventh birthday — the family’s longfeared event finally happened.

  That day, as usual, everyone gathered to celebrate his birthday. The elder came out of seclusion to be with him, and Yi prepared a large table of dishes. Though many were things AhJun couldn’t eat much of, or at all, he was still happy — today, the whole family could finally sit down together for a warm meal.

  After dinner, as usual, the elder left the table quickly to return to seclusion, and Qing suddenly received orders to depart immediately on an outoftown mission…

  In the end, only AhJun, Yi, and the little cat remained in the dining room. Yi understood the boy’s feelings — he walked over and gently patted his head. The child, sensible as ever, glanced at his “brotherinlaw” with a faint, awkward smile, then went to wash up and sleep.

  He always went to bed early — by the Hai hour (hài shí，亥时), before 9 p.m., he would be in bed on his own. The elder had told him that only by sleeping and rising early could he be healthy — a health regimen from the Sacred Healer Clan (Shèngyī Zú，圣医族). As for waking early, they didn’t force him — his body needed as much rest as possible.

  By the time Yi finished the housework and went to the boy’s room, it was already 10 p.m. AhJun’s room was in the small attic on the third floor.

  The child was fast asleep, with Xiao Fei curled in her own cat bed — something AhJun had suggested, since she shouldn’t have to sleep on the floor. Under Qing’s direction, Yi had built her a cute little home, which she loved.

  Yi glanced at the boy, then, reassured, gently closed the door… but suddenly—

  Bang!

  As the door shut, for some reason the soft sound became extremely loud, even shaking the floor…

  “Not right!”

  Yi instantly placed a hand on the doorknob, sensing the change around him. The sounds and vibrations were drawing closer — his natural high perception told him something was wrong.

  Without thinking, he reopened the boy’s door and looked out the window — a familiar figure was prowling in front of their house. No need to guess — another exotic beast had come for the child. But how had it gotten in?

  No time to think — Yi, heat rising to his head, grabbed his weapon and leapt onto the roof. In the bright moonlight, he saw clearly: it was the Giant Monster “Diamond Silverback” (Jīngāng Yínbèi，金刚银背) that had vanished after the citygate battle years ago — and it looked even bigger than before. Clearly, it had been training hard.

  Without hesitation, Yi hurled a gleaming hidden weapon at it, shouting loudly to draw it away as bait. But the giant seemed deadset on trouble, ignoring him completely — perhaps an old acquaintance, knowing exactly what Yi’s combat power was.

  It ignored Yi’s harassment, continuing to hunt for its prey — until… a massive eye appeared outside the boy’s window.

  Damn… Yi’s heart clenched. Abandoning the taunt, he fired a signal flare to alert the Guardian Squad (Shǒuhù Duì，守护队), then raced back to the attic. Outside, the huge eye glowed dark red, scanning the room.

  Thankfully, Xiao Fei was awake, standing in front of the child, growling warnings at the giant.

  Suddenly, the monster’s gaze locked on the boy. Yi moved quickly to stand before Xiao Fei, blocking its line of sight.

  “Roooar—”

  Boom!

  Immediately after, there was a loud roar and a tremendous crash — the wall around the attic window was smashed open in an instant, leaving a gaping hole. The force of it made Yi (Yì，毅) throw up his arms to shield himself, panic rising in his chest—

  —With such a deafening sound and impact, was the child alright?

  He quickly glanced back at the boy. Xiao Fei (Xiǎo Fēi，小绯) the cat was still in place, and the child was still sleeping peacefully — only rolling over once.

  But what surprised Yi was the shadow enveloping AhJun (ā Jùn，阿俊)…

  When he saw that the source of the shadow was the little cat, he finally relaxed — Xiao Fei was using her ability to protect him. Clearly, the child’s care for her — and all those bowls of fine food — had not been in vain.

  He remembered when the cat had first arrived, they’d bought her plenty of premium cat food — topbrand, highquality, nutritionally balanced, the best of the best. But Xiao Fei had snubbed it, refusing to eat.

  Her stomach had growled with hunger, which made Qing (Qīng，青) anxious enough to order Yi to fetch something better. He swapped brands again and again, but nothing worked… until AhJun took food from their own table with clean chopsticks and placed it in a separate clean bowl for her.

  That was the moment of miracle — the little cat devoured it ravenously, clearly starving. The boy said his intuition told him she wanted the food from the table. Whether it was fate between the child and the cat, or simply that Yi was too rough in adding food to her bowl, who could say? In the end, the family simply let Xiao Fei eat at the table with them.

  “Rooaaar…”

  After a second failed shockwave against the attic, the Giant Monster (Jùguài，巨怪) roared in anger, pounding its chest and stomping, then opened its massive jaws to unleash a new ability. The silversheened fur on its back glinted in the moonlight as an energy sphere began to form.

  The sight made Yi’s heart pound again — at this point, only Qing or Master (Shīfu，师父) could handle this newly evolved giant.

  But Master was deep in seclusion and could not be disturbed, and Qing was away. What to do? With his own ability, he could handle small fry or stall a big one, but this was no ordinary opponent… It seemed he’d have to risk it and act as a human shield.

  He looked at the weapon in his hand, sighed, and put it away. Spreading his arms as wide as he could, he prepared to take the attack with his body. Had the Guardian Squad (Shǒuhù Duì，守护队) arrived yet?

  Outside, the giant gathered its power, ready to finish the fight in one blow — but just as it was about to strike, it paused, as if hindered.

  —Ah, reinforcements! Surely the Guardian Squad, led by the deputy (Fùjiàng，副将), had arrived. Excellent!

  Hope flared in Yi’s chest. He moved toward the hole in the wall to help — with more people, they might have a chance.

  Outside, a protective barrier began to form around the giant, and it seemed affected, spinning in confusion — perhaps the squad’s tactics were working.

  Yi was moved, hurrying closer for a better look… Yes, there were plenty of people — wait, he didn’t recognize any of them…

  —Huh? What was going on…?

  To his surprise, the scene before him was a crowd of his “brothers,” each gripping a rope meant to bind the giant, all suspended in the air and spinning around it. The sight was awkward — it looked exactly like the spinning airplane ride at an amusement park, everyone clinging to the ropes and shouting.

  The giant in the center seemed to be enjoying itself, turning in circles and making low noises. Yi could only stand there, covering his eyes in secondhand embarrassment and shaking his head helplessly… So much for the plan.

  As he fretted, the spinning squad grew dizzy — and suddenly, the giant’s eyes changed. With a burst of strength, it flung them all away, then resumed charging its earlier attack.

  Not good!

  Yi’s heart sank. He dashed back to his original position to resume his role as shield.

  Then — whoosh! — a missilelike shockwave hurtled toward the attic. Yi crossed his arms over his head, bracing to take the hit with his body.

  Boom!

  The human shield dropped to one knee, hands trembling, his body battered, sweat dripping from his brow. Beside him, Xiao Fei seemed weakened by the blast, the shadow shielding the child fading.

  “What now?” Yi glanced at the boy, mind racing.

  AhJun seemed affected by the shock — his brow furrowed, body twisting, curled into a ball, muttering as if in a nightmare, one hand clutching his neck, the other over his chest, trembling.

  Yi knew the signs — in past years, the boy’s episodes looked similar, but this time was clearly far worse.

  “Rooaaar—”

  Outside, the giant roared in triumph, preparing its next attack. Yi, desperate, tried to think of a plan — but thinking was never his strength, and his head felt like it was smoking.

  “Aiya! If only the strategist (cānmóu，参谋) were here… The old man may be weak, but his brain works, and he’s full of schemes!”

  Yi wasn’t wrong — except it was his own fault. Just yesterday, he’d convinced the strategist to attend the Martial Arts Conference as a guest… If only he’d known.

  The strategist was notoriously lazy, but the new conference president couldn’t win respect, leading to mass protests and calls for the previous president — Yi — to return. The new president was Yi’s own recommendation, so when trouble arose, they sent a parrot to beg for help. But Yi couldn’t leave, so what to do?

  He’d consulted the strategist, who offered plenty of ideas — and ended up being tricked by Yi into attending that banquettrap instead.

  Now Yi brooded, head steaming, as he rose again to be the shield, stalling — but the giant wasn’t about to wait.

  Whoosh!

  With a sharp report, another shelllike shockwave hurtled toward Yi (Yì，毅) before he could even catch his breath. He cast a despairing glance at the child, then at the little cat, and finally at his own halfbattered body. Forcing himself upright, he summoned what strength he had left, steeling himself to take the hit headon once more.

  Of course, Yi knew full well that blocking this next strike was unlikely — but he had to give it everything. As for his own safety, he had already accepted the risk: he would hold out as long as he could, no matter the state of his body, so long as he remained conscious…

  —Aiya, this man really does think too much…

  And then, there was a resounding boom!

  In the Zhuge household, filled with powerful Guardians, who was the only person able to successfully feed the picky exotic cat, Xiao Fei, and why?