Chapter Thirty-Eight: Because I Am So Foolish

Just as I was looking for a chance to sneak back to see what was happening at the River of Forgetfulness, a few evil spirits suddenly seemed to notice me!

Their deep green eyes glimmered in the misty, otherworldly air, appearing almost illusory, yet filled with a wild, predatory hunger as they bared their fangs at me.

Several ghosts lunged at me at once, opening their savage claws and snapping jaws, howling as they charged!

I turned tail and ran, but it seemed the scent of living flesh still clung to me, drawing more and more fiends to encircle me.

With my tail bristling, I backed away step by step, frantically searching for any means of escape, but there were simply too many of them!

Though they appeared insubstantial, not truly corporeal, I could see blood trickling from the corners of their mouths, and tufts of cat fur of every color clung to them.

Why had these evil spirits drifted into the crack in the void? And why were they so eager to tear apart the little cats?

Clearly, this was not the time for answers—the fiends had me completely surrounded, nowhere left to retreat.

I had no choice but to brace myself and fight!

"Meow-ow!" I let out a warning cry, threatening them as best I could.

The ghosts seemed almost to grin, their shadowy green eyes glowing as they pressed closer to me.

Their movements grew swifter: some had only gaping mouths, lacking hands or feet; others had hands and mouths but no legs—all flew at me with monstrous intent!

They were unlike the souls I usually saw; these creatures resembled hideous spirits, wretched and long-repressed in the depths of hell, clawing their way back to the living world.

I leapt at them, striking out, and found that when my claws slashed through one, a faint green mist curled around them.

Glancing at the other kittens, I saw them fleeing in terror at the mere sight of these fiends, surrendering without a fight—how could they resist, when even counterattacks seemed to have no effect?

But I was not so easily cowed. If my claws could leave some trace—be it blood or spirit—then clearly these ghosts could be harmed, could suffer loss.

And when a thing loses too much of itself, its end is inevitable.

With renewed fury, I lunged at one of the ghosts, darting and tearing through its form again and again.

Soon, this particular fiend looked different from the others. Though it showed no pain, its body faded, growing thinner and more insubstantial than the rest.

Was this proof that I had succeeded?

But as I dodged and fought, exhaustion overwhelmed me. Panting desperately, I cursed the River of Forgetfulness—why could he not have made his kittens stronger, so we would not be so helpless?

Still, I hurled myself at the now-fading ghost, whose howls had grown weak.

At last, with a final leap, I tore it apart: its form dissolved into a cloud of green, foul-smelling vapor that drifted away into the sky.

As its mournful screech echoed, the other ghosts glared at me with even greater malice.

By now, wounds covered my body; though their claws seemed ghostly, each slash left a bloody mark across my fur.

More and more fiends converged on me—perhaps enraged by the death of their companion, their hatred burned ever brighter.

The ghostly green and dark purple vapors pouring from their bodies drew still more fiends to join the attack.

Corpses of kittens lay scattered all around, but strangely, I felt little fear for them.

All I cared about was the River of Forgetfulness.

This was my first time facing something like this; I had no idea what to do. I was lost, but I knew one thing: as long as the River of Forgetfulness remained, no matter how many kittens died, it would not matter.

As long as he was there, the cats would be safe.

And as for me, I had already leaped into molten steel before; I knew that even if I died, my soul would drift for a time in this crack in the void, rather than vanishing altogether.

Would I truly never vanish completely...?

I could not be certain, but there was no turning back—no matter if I died without a grave, I would meet my fate bravely!

As the fiends drew closer, I struggled at first, but soon my strength ebbed away.

Their sharp claws scored my fur, leaving it tangled and matted with blood.

Around me, other cats screamed in agony at the edge of the rift.

I had been surrounded the moment I emerged, while many more kittens were fleeing toward this place, desperate to escape.

Some made it, leaping free of the rift; others failed, torn apart by the fiends.

When at last I collapsed on the ground, utterly spent, I wondered if being torn apart was any different from choking to death on fiery chili sauce.

Yet death did not come—instead, a powerful force seized me!

That feeling was so familiar—my scruff was caught, lifting me up!

"Back!" a voice thundered. Black light burst forth, and the fiends shrank away from it in terror.

"River of Forgetfulness!" Without thinking, I grabbed his sleeve with my paws, calling his name.

Instantly, he smacked me hard on the rump. "Say 'Master.'"

"Oh—Master." I nodded, ears and tail drooping, though my heart brimmed with joy.

He had come to save me, and he was unharmed!

I was so happy—far happier than I’d dared imagine.

In no time, the River of Forgetfulness drove off the fiends that had encircled me.

Though more surged forward, my rump still received a few more smacks.

"You’re always making trouble! I told you not to come back—have you gathered enough fetal souls yet?"

"Not yet, I’ve only found one." I pouted, on the verge of tears. "Are you hurt?"

"I wasn’t—but at this rate, I soon will be!" he sneered, licking his lips, his expression one of exasperated disappointment.

I suppose I am a disappointment, unable to find fifty fetal souls.

"But there’s something I need to tell you!" I looked up, clutching his sleeve, trying to speak.

But as the words reached my lips, I swallowed them.

How could I say it? With ghosts flying everywhere, should I confess to the master: "I like you"?

Would my rump get beaten to a pulp?

"Whatever it is, save it for later," he said, giving me no chance.

More fiends charged toward us, though they clearly feared the River of Forgetfulness.

Many kittens lay torn apart, yet he came only for me, which gave me a secret thrill.

Did that mean I was special?

He glanced down at me. "No, it means you’re just dumber than the rest. The others can run on their own."

"What?" I looked up at him, startled—could he read my thoughts?

How terrifying!

Nervously, I glanced around. If he really knew what I was thinking, then he already knew what I’d just been feeling?

I looked up at him again, flustered, trying to explain, "Actually... I was just worried about you."

He gave a cold little laugh. "I’m the master here—what is there for you to worry about?"

He spoke like a true king.

And a foot soldier worrying for the king’s safety—clearly, that was thinking too much.

My ears drooped, any pride I’d felt melting away. My mood now matched the gloomy rift around us—dark and joyless.

He set me down. "Stay here and behave. Pei Mu is holding the main hall—if not for him, you’d be dead already. Remember to thank him when we get back, understand?"

"I understand," I sniffled, nodding, not daring to meet his gaze.

So things were even worse on the River of Forgetfulness’s side?

It sounded as if, without Pei Mu holding on, the River of Forgetfulness might not have made it in time to save me.

I wiped my eyes with a paw, feeling the dampness—maybe I’d been too indifferent to Pei Mu before.

I should thank him. When I get back, I’ll watch all the melodramas and cartoons he wants.

As I pondered this, the River of Forgetfulness conjured golden light with a flick of his hand. The lights fell to the ground, forming a circle about half a meter across—just big enough for one kitten.

"Get in. Don’t come out until it’s over."

With that, he set me gently on the ground—though not before giving me another swat on the rump.

Stung like a little donkey whipped, I tucked my tail and scrambled into the golden circle, sitting obediently and looking back at my master.

He smiled faintly, then, without another word, transformed into a streak of black light and vanished, leaving me alone in the circle like a little monk.

Watching him disappear into the night, I felt a strange, indescribable emotion. Was it happiness? Despair? Or just a sense of gloom?

With a sigh, I lay down in the circle, mulling over his words.

Clearly, I was too naive—thinking my master was as foolish as I.

Outside, the fiends howled and shrieked. With the master gone, only one little cat remained, and they battered ceaselessly at the shield surrounding me.

Though the barrier was made of light, whenever the formless fiends struck it, a solid thump rang out.

I didn’t know how long it would hold, but I trusted anything the master gave me would not fail me.

So, though I was frightened, I tried to steady myself with faith in my master.

Watching the fiends throw themselves at the shield, I decided not to worry about what I could not see.

I squeezed my eyes shut. The thudding and howling seemed louder in the dark, but at least I didn’t have to look at them.

I don’t know how long I lay there, eyes tightly closed, when suddenly a fierce cry rang out from somewhere nearby.

"Qian Qian! Where are you?"

It was Xiaoyun! I opened my eyes, searching all around.

Sure enough, in the distance, a little white cat limped along, calling desperately. Several fiends chased after her, ready to devour her at any moment.