Another morning. Lu Feng sat up in bed, once again sensing something pressed against his back.

Yuzi clung to him like an octopus. He shifted slightly, worried he’d flattened the girl—but soft as cotton candy, Yuzi wiggled free from behind him, crawled drowsily onto his chest, and settled back to sleep.

“Mrrp~”

A gentle purr escaped her. Her fluffy tail curled and rested on Lu Feng’s hand, tickling his skin.

He’d laid a floor mat for Yuzi, but it must’ve been too cold. The moment he fell asleep, she’d snuck under his covers.

He ruffled her hair and lightly pinched the cat ears atop her head.

*So soothing.*

Yuzi shook her head, ears twitching awake. She squirmed from his “evil claws,” propped herself up, and rubbed her eyes with tiny hands.

“Still sleepy? Go back to sleep,” he murmured, patting her head. He yawned and rose to brew milk powder in the kitchen.

Lu Feng’s usual breakfast: steamed bun and soy milk, sometimes sweet tofu pudding—a frugal habit. But yesterday, for the first time, he’d bought milk powder *just for her*.

As he poured the warm milk into a bowl, Yuzi came downstairs in a white nightgown, rubbing her eyes, white hair slightly messy. Her large amber eyes glanced at him, then fixed on scattered milk powder crumbs.

“Sweep… the… floor.”

She spoke slowly, voice soft and gentle as glutinous rice.

Lu Feng froze—then joy surged through him. *My cat not only transforms… she talks!*

He scooped her up, beaming. “Come on, say ‘Onii-chan’!”

*Real little sisters?* Lazy and gluttonous like Umaru, sharp-tongued like Kirino Kousaka—but zero cuteness, zero looks. Rooms in chaos, clothes spilling from closets, snack wrappers everywhere. When roaches appeared? Nose in the air, sour-faced: “Hey. Free? Go kill that thing.”

Yeah, those self-proclaimed “siscons”? Definitely no little sister at home.

Still… that perfect anime little sister remained a dream. How sweet “Onii-chan” sounded.

“Mew——" Yuzi let out a soft, confused meow.

*Right. Too soon.* Lu Feng gently set her down. “Broom’s in the corner if you want to sweep.”

Yuzi dragged the broom—nearly her height—and diligently swept the crumbs.

“Tuck your tail. And wear your hat.”

Lu Feng carefully hid her tail beneath her nightgown, then placed a sakura-pink hat on her head. Her tail twitched under his touch, eyes locked on him—but his gentle handling kept her calm, fur smooth.

After one last head pat, he headed out.

The clinic door stood slightly ajar. He hung a sign:

*Doctor out temporarily. Please wait inside. Back shortly.*

He swung onto his dust-covered bike and rode to the market.

***

Meanwhile, a Hero Association squad arrived in the remote town of Linjiang.

“Confirmed: the Blood Clan royal sheltered in that clinic. Her power spiked right after. Place reeks of suspicion,” a scout reported, pointing across town.

“If connected? Eliminate him,” Luo Xuanming smirked. “All Blood Clan collaborators—intentional or not—eradicated. Not one spared.”

Their mandate was absolute: better slaughter a thousand innocents than miss one threat. Higher-ups turned a blind eye to collateral damage.

*Perfect.* Luo Xuanming’s frustration boiled over. *Capture the Blood Clan princess? Promotion handed to me. Then someone lets her escape?!*

“Move out. Tell logistics: prep for mop-up.” He smoothed his collar, strutting arrogantly.

Seven members halted before the humble clinic. A sign read “Lu Feng.” Door slightly open. Not yet open for business.

Luo Xuanming: Tier 4. His six subordinates: Tier 3. Enough to challenge a Tier 5 demon—let alone a Blood Clan accomplice.

“Intel: only one person here. A med student intern,” the officer noted.

“Heh. Truly clueless?” Luo Xuanming’s smirk widened. “But whoever ruined my plans? I don’t care who they are.”

He strode in. Sparse. Shabby. Medicine stocked behind the counter. A small sign near the entrance.

“No one?” Irritation flared—he’d come to vent, not wait.

“Boss… that painting,” a subordinate whispered, pointing nervously.

An ink-wash dragon coiled through clouds on the wall, vivid enough to leap free.

Luo Xuanming studied it—then chuckled. “Cramming demonology fried your brains? A real Demon Beast Sealing Scroll? The beast *moves*. Especially the eyes—that’s the giveaway. And who hangs a Sealing Scroll as decor?” He waved dismissively. “Hit the books harder. It’s just a very realistic painting.”