With doting tenderness and not a trace of disdain, Jikuhir gently stroked the soft black hair of the boy before her, her face glowing with sincere warmth.
"Mm, thank you."
Cang Xiaoxi thanked her. Though a flicker of embarrassment stirred within him, he kept it carefully hidden.
After all—if you let your guard down around a little loli with eyes on you, who knew? The next second, she might just turn into a "juice-extracting machine."
"No need to thank me. This is all part of what Xiao Kuku, as your wife, should do," Jikuhir declared proudly, puffing out her chest.
"Is that so?"
Cang Xiaoxi replied casually.
He’d half-expected that answer. No surprise flickered across his face—nor any shyness.
He didn’t reject Jikuhir now, but that didn’t mean he accepted her.
Letting her wipe his sweat was already pushing the limits of his tolerance.
Jikuhir understood. So aside from occasionally poking his cute little cheek with a finger, she did nothing further.
Progress took patience. Even if he accepted her today, his shrunken body—and local laws—made anything extreme impossible.
Pure-blooded Dragonkin lived near-eternally. Jikuhir had all the time in the world to wait. Why rush?
"Alright." She finished wiping his brow, stood, and brushed her skirt. "Xi’er, rest here a moment. I’ll fetch water from the ruins—the ice I left should be melted by now."
Jikuhir’s innate magic was ice. She’d prepared it beforehand to ensure fresh water.
Cang Xiaoxi watched her go—hips swaying, cute tail flicking.
The moment her figure vanished, emotions he’d hidden surfaced all at once.
*Conflicted…*
Two simple words. Perfectly capturing his state.
He was tangled: Why did Jikuhir feel this way? And why did he feel a quiet, growing reliance on her?
It felt… familiar. As if he’d lived this before.
He didn’t understand.
After his mother and childhood friend, he’d sealed trust away—but with Jikuhir, that wall simply wouldn’t rise.
Was it her emotionless loli aura lowering his guard?
No. He knew that wasn’t it.
Deep down, he already sensed the truth. He just refused to name it.
Admitting it would feel like some hollow, cliché vow.
Maybe it was just the bridge effect—bonding after brushes with death.
Temporary.
So he told himself: *For now, she’s just a partner. Nothing more.*
"Guess that’s how it’ll be," he murmured, pulling his gaze back and closing his eyes for a brief doze.
Ten minutes of silence passed. Cang Xiaoxi rose, ready to practice 【Dragon's Eye】 with his gathered materials.
Then—chaotic footsteps and jubilant shouts erupted nearby.
"Look! Trolls that usually need multiple high-rank teams to slay—and there’s a whole pile!"
"This… an upper-tier goblin! Nearly Peak of Transcendent Rank! How is this here?!"
"We’re rich! Rich! These materials could feed us for life!"
The four adventurers—once of Azure Falcon Guild, now Prince Zhu Bajie’s guards—hopped and whooped like monkeys, utterly forgetting their duty.
"Hey! You lowlifes babbling nonsense?!" Prince Zhu Bajie finally snapped. "Imperial law states 60% of ruin finds go to the state! Don’t play dumb!"
Greed drowned reason. His eyes glittered with gold. *Money! Money! Money!*
With this haul, he didn’t need to hunt a wounded Dragon Sovereign. Screw that deal with the eternal runner-up.
This wealth could make him the most powerful prince—even surpassing Princess Lisdel, the prodigy.
Power wasn’t just personal strength. It was influence. Resources.
He had to assert his royal authority—*now*.
But…
"Prince *Zhu Bajie*," one adventurer sneered, "you joking? Why hand this to *you*?"
"Finders keepers. Don’t you know that?" another added.
"If we *had* to report it? We’d go straight to Princess Lisdel or Fourth Prince. Way better than following *you*."
The others smirked, utterly dismissive of the low-status prince and his drawn swords.
"You—! You—!" sputtered the prince, face crimson.
Palace humiliations were one thing. But *adventurers*?
"Enough! I command you—kill these scum!"
"Sir, yes sir!"
Ten soldiers surged forward, blades gleaming. They’d been itching for this.
"Boss, look! These lapdogs came to die."
"Strongest among you? One High Tier. You think numbers win?"
"We’ve got *four* High Tiers. You’re not even close."
Classic mook banter before the brawl.
Cang Xiaoxi, ignored amid the monster pile, finally spoke as tensions peaked:
"Excuse me. Did anyone ask if you could claim *my* kills?"
"Huh?! Who said that?!"
Heads swiveled. Glances swept *over* him.
"…Hearing things?" They scratched their heads.
Buried in carcasses, his tiny frame was easy to miss.
Still—being overlooked stung.
"Down here, you power-level-five idiots!"
"A kid?"
"What’s *he* doing here?"
Their synchronized disbelief hit him like a bucket of cold water. *Again.* The reality of his shrunken body.
"Yeah. I’m a kid," Cang Xiaoxi said, brows slightly furrowed. "Problem?"
He channeled magic as Jikuhir taught—releasing pressure like Fenrir’s gaze, sharp and commanding.
A seasoned warrior would’ve retreated instantly.
These two? Not so much.
"Brat! Scram home to your mama’s milk!"
"Disrespecting the prince? Even kids aren’t spared!"
They united only in mockery. Cang Xiaoxi felt secondhand embarrassment—and mild annoyance that Jikuhir’s "intimidation tactic" failed on first try.
He’d hoped to avoid trouble.
No luck.
"Last warning," he said calmly, aura swelling to near Peak of Transcendent Rank. "These are *mine*. Your argument was pointless from the start."
Scoffs remained unchanged. They measured his height against their hands, exchanged glances—and burst into laughter.
"HA! A weanling claiming ownership? Kids these days!"
"Little liar! But since you made us laugh, we’ll overlook the disrespect. Now *scram*."
Not slow. Just utterly clueless trash.
*After meeting Jikuhir and Lisdel… these guys feel almost cute. In a pathetic way.*
"Guess I have to step in."
He *hated* having his things taken.
Just as he gathered fire magic to light their backsides—
A familiar beastly roar echoed.
Followed by Prince Zhu Bajie’s distant, panicked scream.
From deep within the ruins.
