The last packet of grilled fish was opened. Zhang Shuguang was already stuffed to the brim, unable to take another bite, but Mang Jiu still seemed unsatisfied.

To him, these were merely a few small fish—barely enough to fill his teeth.

He stared at the packet of fish meat, his gaze focused as if beholding something exquisite.

Zhang Shuguang handed him the leaf-wrapped fish directly. Having eaten his fill, his complexion was noticeably rosier, and the aches in his body had eased considerably. This left him feeling thoroughly refreshed, visibly lighter, and more at ease.

He asked Mang Jiu with a smile, “Still able to handle this flavor?”

Mang Jiu, unfazed by the heat, pinched a piece of the steaming, snow-white, translucent fish meat between two fingers and popped it into his mouth. Without a word, he simply nodded repeatedly.

Zhang Shuguang was about to tease him when his ears suddenly twitched. He turned his head toward the rustling sound coming from the grass.

The grass there grew exceptionally tall, reaching nearly half a meter in height. He’d noticed along the way that in this strange world, every species seemed magnified many times over compared to Earth—even the most common grass grew so luxuriantly.

Just as he pondered this, the tall grass at the edge swayed, and a small, dull-gray kitten emerged. Its medium-length fur was matted and filthy.

Zhang Shuguang froze, then found his eyes glued to the kitten.

The kitten had a broad forehead and round, wide eyes. Its golden feline pupils seemed to have naturally long lashes. It stared intently at Zhang Shuguang and Mang Jiu, its four tiny paws shifting restlessly back and forth.

Zhang Shuguang raised his hand, beckoning the kitten with a finger. “Kitty~ come here,” he cooed, “tss tss tss~”

The kitten’s back fur puffed up, making its frail little body appear rounder.

Zhang Shuguang was utterly charmed. He glanced at the leaf bundle in Mang Jiu’s hand, saw two pieces of fish meat remaining, and promptly snatched one.

Mang Jiu paused mid-chew, shifting his attention to the kitten.

Under his gaze, the kitten’s perked ears flattened, its body instinctively retreating backward. Yet its wide eyes remained fixed on the fish meat resting in Zhang Shuguang’s palm.

No matter how you looked at it, this was the scene of a hungry little kitten being scared off by a big monster.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled softly, raising a hand to pat Mang Jiu’s arm. “You scared him.”

Mang Jiu: …

Zhang Shuguang slowly rose and shuffled forward a couple of steps. Kneeling on one knee, he extended his hand, offering the tender white fish meat forward. He even blew gently on the fish in his palm.

The kitten’s black nose twitched. Its tiny paw took a small step forward, but its eyes remained fixed on Mang Jiu.

Mang Jiu gave a soft snort and lowered his head to continue eating the fish.

The entire packet of fish wasn’t much. He didn’t wolf it down in two bites, but savored it in tiny nibbles. Now, with only the last piece left, he was even more reluctant to finish it outright.

Zhang Shuguang crouched and inched forward, his mouth sticky as he cooed, “Kitty~ kitty~ come here, have some fishy fish, it’s so delicious, come on, tsk tsk tsk~~~”

Mang Jiu held the fish between his fingertips, his eyelids fluttering as he replied coldly, ” That’s a giant cat’s cub.“

Zhang Shuguang turned to look at him. ”A giant cat?“

”Mm. The giant cat tribe is very small. They’re a nomadic tribe,” Mang Jiu explained.

A nomadic tribe?

Zhang Shuguang turned back to look at the kitten, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Can it understand me?”

“No.” Mang Jiu popped the fish into his mouth, licking his fingertip. “At this stage, it probably can’t shift into human form yet. Only after shifting can it learn to communicate.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded, continuing to coax the kitten with the fish.

“Kitty~ come here~”

The fish’s aroma proved irresistible. The kitten let out a soft mew and scampered over on tiny paws. Its icy little nose brushed against Zhang Shuguang’s palm as it eagerly gobbled the fish.

“Slow down, slow down—you’ll choke.” Zhang Shuguang couldn’t resist running his hand over the kitten’s back, discovering the little creature was practically skin and bones.

Mang Jiu watched the kitten eat contentedly, his brows slightly furrowed. “This little one has no one to care for it. Surviving this long is no small feat.”

Zhang Shuguang hummed in agreement. Just looking at the kitten, he knew it had no one to care for it. What child with parents looks this thin?

He almost forgot that he himself belonged to the frail category.

One piece of fish clearly wasn’t enough for the kitten. After finishing, it lifted its little head and meowed at Zhang Shuguang.

That meow was so soft and tender it nearly made Zhang Shuguang’s eyes sparkle with affection.

“Sweetie, you want more, huh? Uncle will catch you a fish and grill another one for you.” Zhang Shuguang reached out, scooping the kitten up in his arms before it could react.

The kitten startled, instinctively scratching and struggling. Zhang Shuguang held him close, gently patting his back to calm him. “There, there, no fussing. You’re covered in dirt. Let’s go wash up—we’ll catch fish while we’re at it.”

He carried the kitten to the water’s edge, dipping his fingers to wash the little one’s front paws first, then gently cleansing its face. Turning to Mang Jiu, he asked, “Is it okay to bathe such a tiny cub in cold water?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had a kitten.” Mang Jiu walked over, glancing at the kitten being held so carefully. His expression turned slightly cold. “You could take it back to the tribe for the shaman to raise.”

Zhang Shuguang ultimately didn’t dare give such a tiny kitten a cold bath. He only lightly wiped its fur with a leather skirt. Hearing this, he asked, “To the shaman? Can’t I raise it?”

For someone who adored fluffy creatures, the kitten in his arms absolutely struck a chord with his overflowing paternal instincts.

Mang Jiu was momentarily speechless.

Typically, cubs found outside the tribe were raised in the large mountain caves. The shaman usually took care of them, and some unpaired sub-beasts would help look after them, too. But he’d never heard of anyone taking a cub home to raise themselves.

Zhang Shuguang cradled the kitten in one arm while gripping his fishbone knife in the other. His eyes fixed on the water’s surface, he struck instantly. A large black fish was impaled, thrashing its tail in futile struggle before being flung onto the shore.

As if spurred by some impulse, Zhang Shuguang thrust his blade repeatedly into the water, each strike landing true. A string of fish was flung onto the shore.

Mang Jiu nodded approvingly beside him. “Your hand is steady. Did you train in your old tribe?”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself: The little cannon fodder probably hadn’t trained before, but he certainly had. Not just with knives—he’d also studied boxing for years.

“Yeah, when you go out for food, you always run into some danger,” he said casually, setting the kitten aside before quickly gutting the fish.

The leaf-wrapped fish had taken too long to roast earlier, so he only planned to grill this one. No salt was fine—the kitten shouldn’t have eaten so much anyway.

After watching him clean one fish, Mang Jiu took over. “You go roast it for him.”

“I’ll prepare that shark later. Aren’t you still hungry?” Zhang Shuguang wasn’t unwilling to give the kitten shark meat; he just felt that since Mang Jiu had exerted effort to bring it back, it wouldn’t be right to feed it to the kitten without his consent.

Mang Jiu: “Alright, I’ll peel the fish. Tell me how to do it.”

Zhang Shuguang threaded a branch through the fish, glanced at the shark nearby, then walked over to circle it once. He gestured as he explained, “Best to skin the whole fish. Keep the spine and all the bone spines too. I think the bone spike knife works great—we should make a few more.”

Mang Jiu nodded, borrowed his bone-spine knife, and went to skin the fish.

Zhang Shuguang used some dry grass he found to make a little nest for the kitten. He placed it by the fire and gently ran his fingers through the matted fur on its back.

“Did you like the fish meat? If you come home with Uncle, I’ll cook you delicious food every day.” Zhang Shuguang stared intently at the kitten, looking like a lovesick fool, downright creepy.

Having just eaten the delicious fish, the kitten no longer harbored the same intense hostility toward Zhang Shuguang. Now, as he gently stroked its fur, the kitten opened its tiny mouth to yawn, revealing a soft, pink tongue dotted with tiny bristles.

Zhang Shuguang couldn’t resist the urge to flick his fingertip against that tiny tongue.

The kitten startled, retreating warily.

Zhang Shuguang beamed. Oh my, that little tongue was so warm and wet!

He’d wanted a cat since college, but living in dorms with a roommate allergic to fur and his parents forbidding him to rent off-campus meant he never became a cat owner by graduation.

After graduation, he dove straight into corporate life, working overtime until he was dead tired. He had no time to care for a furry companion, so he became a pro at virtual cat ownership instead—scrolling through pet influencers’ videos and photos whenever he could.

Zhang Shuguang recalled how he’d once tried to convince his mom to get a cat at home. Her refusal didn’t faze him—it just meant she started growing her own vegetables instead.

Don’t ask. Just know he deeply regretted it.

Now, a tiny orphaned kitten sat before him, skinny and motherless. If he didn’t try to adopt it, he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

The fish sizzled over the open flame, its skin crackling as it cooked. The kitten’s delicate white whiskers quivered, its wide eyes fixed intently on the grilled fish.

After a while, as the fish cooked and its aroma grew stronger, the kitten couldn’t contain itself, pacing back and forth and pawing at the ground. If Zhang Shuguang hadn’t reached out to stop it, it would have lunged right in.

Not just the kitten was tempted—even Mang Jiu, who was peeling the fish skin nearby, kept glancing over.

Seeing their reactions, Zhang Shuguang chuckled and beckoned to Mang Jiu. “Come eat. I’ll scrape the fish meat off.”

A great shark was truly massive. Even with his sharp bone knife, Zhang Shuguang had to labor for half an hour just to finish half of the fish.

Once the flesh was removed, the snow-white bones hidden within were exposed. Perhaps because the fish was so enormous, the bones themselves were an even purer white, without a hint of any other color. Unlike the bones of the other fish, they didn’t carry any milky tint.

Zhang Shuguang reached out to touch them, finding them cool and smooth to the touch.

He wiped the sweat from his face and exhaled a long breath.

“Let me take over.” Mang Jiu had finished eating long ago and had offered to help earlier, but Zhang Shuguang had refused.

Feeling the exhaustion in his body, Zhang Shuguang relented and handed over the bone knife. “Thanks for your help.”

Mang Jiu said nothing, silently getting to work.

Zhang Shuguang returned to the fire, snatched two branches, snapped them, and tossed them into the flames. The little kitten, now full and content, had curled up in the grass pile and fallen asleep.

He chuckled softly, his finger tapping the icy little nose. “Adorable little thing.”