Chapter 42: The Child in the Pot

Peering through the crack in the door, I did not glimpse the horrific, bloody scene I had imagined. Although the view was blurry, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I discerned that there was no trace of my old squad leader’s corpse inside Li Douniu’s house, nor was his wife to be seen.

Inside was only a blackened earthen kang bed and some dilapidated, nearly ruined furniture. Despite the darkness, the situation was not complicated. Yet, one unusual detail caught my attention.

Near the window inside the Li household stood a sizable stove, upon which rested a blackened iron pot. From this very pot came the continuous sound of Li Douniu’s son crying.

The child was alive, which eased the knot in my chest somewhat, but I was soon puzzled by the absence of the squad leader’s body. Had he not been harmed? Did he somehow resurrect and bite Li Douniu before fleeing? And what in the world was the child doing inside the pot?

Uncertain, I turned to Li Douniu and asked, “Why is your son in the pot?”

Upon hearing this, Li Douniu peered inside as well, and his hair stood on end in fright. Suddenly, he grasped my shoulder and said, “Old Zhao, he’s a cook. He wouldn’t really boil my son and eat him, would he?”

His words ignited my fury. My old squad leader’s resurrection was tragic enough—I would never associate him with something as monstrous as cooking human flesh! And since the child was still crying, he was clearly alive. What nonsense was this?

I cursed Li Douniu a bastard and warned him not to speak recklessly. Snatching the folding chair from his hands as an impromptu weapon, I took the lead and pushed open the main door.

I had long since given up on him.

Moments later, I rushed inside and took in the full scene. Though dark, I could see clearly that the squad leader’s body was definitely not there. Amidst the ruin and decay, the only living being was the child in the pot.

With the immediate threat neutralized, my only course was to retrieve Li Douniu’s son from the pot and then chastise his father a bit more.

I approached the stove, my mood heavy, and leaned forward to peer inside the blackened pot.

Within lay a small bundle of blankets, tightly wrapped around Li Douniu’s son.

The child appeared to be less than a month old, swaddled snugly in a vivid red quilt. He cried steadily, occasionally sucking on his fingers.

Relieved, my heart eased further.

The steady crying meant the little fellow was thoroughly frightened but unharmed.

At that moment, Li Douniu’s timid, guilty voice sounded at the door, irritating me: “Is my son okay? Please, have a look!”

For heaven’s sake! Could he not even care for his own son and had to rely on a stranger like me? What kind of nonsense was this?

Turning back, I cursed him a coward and, with no choice, cradled the bundle, silently mourning the bleak future awaiting this fragile life.

With one hand, I carefully unwrapped the soft quilt, intending to check if the child was injured.

As soon as I peeled away the covering, I was utterly stunned.

Instead of a baby’s head, what emerged was a furry “thing.”

It was a head — but not that of a child, nor what I expected from an infant.

Before my eyes was a cat’s head, gray-furred with black stripes, blue eyes, and a white nose.

In an instant, the sudden appearance of this tabby’s head blew my mind.

A startled howl escaped me as I desperately tried to shake off the bundle that had somehow transformed into a “cat-person.”

At that precise moment, the cat, disguised as a baby, sprang from the bundle in my hands and fiercely swiped its claw across the back of my hand.

A searing pain stabbed sharply into my nerves.

“Ah!” I cried out, pain jolting me back from my shock.

Fixating on this treacherous beast, I glared at the “backstabber.”

The tabby flicked its tail arrogantly, then leapt again, claws outstretched to tear at my arm.

But I refused to give it another chance.

Resolving to end this, I seized the small cat by the scruff of its neck, ignoring its struggles, and slammed it hard onto the ground.

With a sharp smack, the cat yowled, spat a few drops of blood, then flipped over and darted out the door.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my makeshift shield—the folding stool—and gave chase.

My pursuit was fueled by grim determination, for I knew this cat was undoubtedly one of the “Bright Lamp King’s” minions. If I didn’t kill them all, they would haunt me forever, perhaps even wreak havoc on future generations.

But as soon as I burst out of the mud-brick house, my fierce resolve suddenly turned to dread.

The sight in the courtyard was eerily strange — not just strange, but downright spectacular.

Li Douniu had vanished without a trace, and the only living creatures left were cats—an overwhelming horde of them.

There were at least three or four hundred tabbies of every color imaginable, not only within the courtyard walls but also perched on the eaves.

They seemed to have been “waiting patiently” for a long time.

The moment I stepped out of the ruined house, the cats fixed their deep azure eyes on me, all staring in unison.

Their gaze was filled with savage ferocity and bloodlust.

My body trembled slightly as I understood clearly: these cats were the “Bright Lamp King’s” henchmen, gathered here with one sole purpose: to kill me.

Li Douniu, the child, and old Wang next door — none of it made sense; all were mere illusions I couldn’t comprehend.

From the moment my old squad leader resurrected, these cats had been plotting one thing:

How to kill me. How to exact revenge.

And now, they had their chance.

If two or three hundred cats charged me at once, I would be dead without question.

I had witnessed their lethal prowess before: their claws sharp as blades.

If hundreds of these beasts surged at me simultaneously, I would not only perish but be flayed alive, slowly devoured piece by piece, like a condemned prisoner in ancient times.

The thought was unbearable.

Trapped in despair, with nowhere to turn, my survival instinct surged.

My mind raced, searching for a solution, but nothing came.

At that moment, the cats, sensing my isolation and vulnerability, began to close in.

Their teeth bared, claws extended, emitting sharp hisses, muscles tensed and ready to strike.

I held my ground against the advancing horde.

Suddenly, a black-bodied tabby with a white tail lost patience and lunged at me first.