Seconds later, Li Tai was gone out the door, and Xiaoyu, clutching the scythe, chased after him, but the corridor was utterly empty, as if no one had ever been there. Yet, the pool of blood on the floor, just like the stain in the room, had been scrubbed away completely, leaving no trace of any struggle.

This man was far too significant: the biological father of both Li Xiaoshu and Li Xiaohao, and the grandfather of Xing'er. Xiaoyu had so much to say, needing to know the current status of Li Xiaohao, learning where Hua Gu's eyes had gone, and pleading on behalf of those who had suffered. If it were possible, how wonderful it would be if Hua Gu could have her sight restored, or if Xiaoshu could finally see the person she longed for day and night. Since he appeared to be a kindly father, surely he wouldn't condone his son’s misdeeds, and his intervention might resolve many issues instantly.

Alas, he had departed so hastily; Xiaoyu’s words were left unfinished as he vanished. Only the scythe remained, a testament to his brief visit. Xiaoyu lifted the weapon, checking his reflection in the gleaming blade, and noticed the bloodshot vessels in his eyes had multiplied since he last looked in a mirror. His previously calm state abruptly shifted to agitation, and an overwhelming, irresistible urge began to consume his entire focus.

Slaughter! Xiaoyu closed his eyes, listening intently to his surroundings. The roar of ten thousand horses sounded in his ears, and he seemed to see a valiant warrior, mounted on a swift charger, plunging his scythe into a sea of enemies, severing one head after another with every sweep. The warhorse showed no fear, charging fearlessly with its master, utterly shattering neat formations of enemy ranks with magnificent bravery.

Just as Xiaoyu’s blood boiled with this violent fantasy, a delicate cat’s cry cut through the exhilarating illusion. Xiaoyu looked down. Little Black was staring fixedly at him, its eyes wide and brimming with tears. Suddenly, it sprang up, treating Xiaoyu’s leg like a sturdy tree, hooking onto his trouser leg with all four paws, and swiftly scrambling upwards—swoosh, swoosh, swoosh—until it settled into its usual spot on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, attempting to return to that electrifying scene, but his mind was blank; he could sense nothing now but tranquility and peace.

“Sigh,” Xiaoyu let out a sigh of resignation, murmuring to Little Black, “You have no idea how breathtaking the scene I just imagined was.”

Meow... Little Black could not speak, offering only a meow in response to Xiaoyu’s reflection. As for what that particular meow signified, perhaps only it and its own kind understood.

With the scythe found and Little Black back at his side, Xiaoyu felt it was time to leave and catch up with Xiaoshu and the others. He gently stroked Little Black’s back, soothing it: “We’re going into the water again shortly. This time, hold your breath, don’t let any water get into your nose. Just hold out for one minute, and we’ll reach the shore.”

It was unclear whether Little Black understood these instructions, but it let out another meow, crouching motionless on Xiaoyu’s shoulder, waiting for the signal to move.

Having learned from the last attempt, Xiaoyu gripped the scythe tightly and hurried back to the side of the main gate, taking quick strides. He loudly counted down to Little Black: “One, two, three…” and plunged headfirst into the icy lake water. As expected, Little Black showed great spirit; this time it did not bolt in panic, remaining obediently on Xiaoyu’s shoulder, though it seemed slightly tense, its sharp claws digging deeply into Xiaoyu’s flesh. However, he felt no pain whatsoever, swimming directly toward the surface, breaking through the water less than a minute later.