For the first time, Chen Mo felt his intelligence insulted by a cat. Little White certainly hadn’t meant to mock him, yet that’s exactly how Chen Mo felt deep down.

Under Little White’s puzzled gaze, Chen Mo placed both fluffy paws on the kitten’s face.

Little White: “Meow? Meow?”

Chen Mo: “Meow!”

*Taste my kitty punch!*

The two cats tussled playfully in the deserted alley. It was already past two in the morning, and Chen Mo still had no clear leads. For now, he’d have to start a methodical search centered on this alley.

Chen Mo tried asking Little White if he remembered the person who’d saved him earlier—Yun Song. He hadn’t expected easy communication, but Little White understood. Though not as articulate as Little Ash, the kitten’s response made Chen Mo’s heart leap with hope.

After half an hour of searching, Chen Mo decided to rest until dawn. At this hour, everyone was asleep—finding anyone would be near impossible. Little White and Little Ash needed rest too.

Soon, Chen Mo and Little White curled up together in a corner. Chen Mo kept his eyes half-closed, staying lightly alert. His feline instincts would catch even the faintest disturbance.

Thankfully, the night passed peacefully.

Chen Mo jolted awake at a sharp crash. Dawn’s pale glow was just breaking. Little White had also sprung up, fur bristling, senses locked onto the unseen threat.

After calming the kitten, Chen Mo twitched his ears. The noise came from a nearby house—a glass bottle shattering on the floor.

A woman’s voice followed, sharp with accusation: “You’re back? Where were you gambling this time? Tell me!”

“I’m gambling?” A man’s voice rumbled, thick with suppressed rage. “You’re the one running around with others! You cheated on me, then dumped your massive debts on my shoulders! I went to the casino to reclaim *your* money, and you accuse *me* of gambling?”

“If you weren’t gambling, why would they hunt you down? Why would they say you owe over a hundred thousand?!” The woman’s voice faltered, defensive.

Chen Mo pieced together the situation. He leaped onto a wall, then vaulted to a rooftop. From above, he saw the arguing couple clearly.

The woman, around thirty, was tall and stylishly dressed, her beauty undeniable. The man looked haggard, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. He clenched his fists, struggling to contain his fury.

The woman overturned a small courtyard table, sneering down at him. “Fine! Let’s divorce!”

“Divorce? Good! I’m done with you!” the man growled through gritted teeth.

She smirked coldly. “My lawyer will contact you. I’m taking our daughter. Boss Qiang’s son has taken an interest in her. Maybe he’ll even clear your debts.”

Those words struck a nerve. The man’s eyes turned bloodshot, his voice dripping with venom like a cornered beast. “She’s *my* daughter. You dare lay a finger on her.”

The woman flinched back, shaken. After a pause, she composed herself. “All that rage—you only ever unleash it on me. Rot in this dump. See you in court!”

She slammed the door behind her. From Chen Mo’s vantage point, he watched her stride to a gleaming luxury car waiting outside the alley. The contrast with the man’s broken silhouette was stark.

Chen Mo felt no surprise—such tragedies were common. He only marveled at how real this simulated life felt. Both parents were at fault, but his pity went to their daughter. No one cared for her; she was merely a bargaining chip.

*None of this is my concern. What can one cat even do?* Chen Mo shook his head slightly and turned to leave.

Just as he prepared to jump down, the house door opened. A slender figure froze him mid-step.

“You done fighting?” A familiar voice, icy and devoid of emotion, cut through the air.

A petite short-haired girl stood in the doorway, a tattered backpack slung over her shoulder. Bandages covered her arms and face, scars visible beneath her pale skin. Her long bangs shadowed half her face. Her eyes, fixed on her father, held only numb stillness.

Her once-white uniform was stained yellow, patched and torn. Yet through the grime, Chen Mo sensed an unyielding strength—a white lotus struggling in the mud. His first impression struck him like lightning.

He’d searched desperately for this girl, never realizing she lived right next door. He’d been blind to what was right under his nose.

Seeing Yun Song, the man fumbled to compose himself. He pulled crumpled bills from his pocket and held them out.

“Xiao Yun… this is… this week’s allowance.” Guilt choked his words. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s… not much.”

Silence stretched. No small hand reached for the money.

Yun Song walked past him, backpack straps digging into her thin shoulders. “I don’t need it. Thank you.”

The icy words silenced him. “Thank you” pierced his heart like a blade. His arms dropped limply, the bills scattering across the floor.

He turned slowly. All he saw was Yun Song’s frail back. Dawn’s first light touched her shoulders—then she stepped into the shadow of the house and vanished.

Chen Mo sighed inwardly. He gave the man one last glance, called for Little White, and followed Yun Song’s path.

As he moved, his system panel flickered to life—radically transformed.