The moment Zhou’er saw Morrison, he nearly burst into tears.

The past few days had been incredibly rough for him—just thinking about it brought a wave of bitterness. On the second day, when his hunger became unbearable, Zhou’er ended up eating his eggshell.

The eggshell was crisp, with a decent texture and rich in nutrients. Thanks to that, Zhou’er managed to stave off hunger for the day. Confident that Morrison would return the next day, his lack of foresight meant he didn’t think to save some for later.

But the next day came, and Morrison still didn’t show up. Zhou’er waited all day—from the first light of dawn to the crimson sunset painting the sky—yet Morrison was nowhere to be seen.

By the third day, consumed by hunger, Zhou’er attempted to catch fish.

Still bound by his human mindset, Zhou’er struggled to adapt to his new dragon body. Even though he was a dragon, his tiny wings could barely flutter, let alone help him accomplish anything.

Without a clear understanding of his current limitations, he ambitiously decided to try catching birds instead. But he was just a newly hatched dragonling.

The result was predictable.

Morrison had scattered concealing powder around Zhou’er before leaving, but at one point, Zhou’er accidentally wandered beyond its range. For only a moment, he stepped outside the protective boundary, and suddenly, a massive bird of prey—its species unknown—appeared in the sky, diving straight toward him.

When Zhou’er heard the noise, he quickly darted into the woven vine nest Morrison had crafted for him. Objectively speaking, his reaction wasn’t slow—it was already an incredible burst of speed given the life-or-death stakes.

But in those last few seconds, his tail failed to retract fully, and it got pecked.

The claws of the large bird were razor-sharp, and its beak was as hard as steel. The fiery pain instantly spread through Zhou’er’s entire body, forcing a sharp cry of agony from him.

He felt a warm, sticky sensation at the tip of his tail and didn’t need to look to know it was bleeding.

It hurt so much!!

Before this, Zhou’er had never really paid much attention to his tail. He hadn’t thought of protecting it while escaping, and sometimes he outright ignored its existence. But after this vivid lesson in pain, he never forgot his tail again.

—”It hurts like hell…”
—”I’ll remember this, you just wait until I grow up!!”

[Perhaps you should recognize that you’re less than 48 hours out of your shell and still in a fragile, newborn state. Stop overexerting yourself…]

Typically, young abyssal dragons spend their vulnerable periods sleeping to conserve energy, and at least one adult dragon would always be nearby to protect them. In fact, under normal circumstances, a dragon hatchling would never appear in human territory.

Dragons on this continent had designated zones for their activities and wouldn’t stoop to associating with what they considered ants—humans.

In the end, Zhou’er had no choice but to eat the nearby grass.

Even though his wound hurt terribly, he couldn’t make a sound. Any noise might attract more predators, and the scent of his blood already posed a risk. The cloaking powder only disrupted visual detection, making him invisible to other creatures, but his scent remained potent.

Although Zhou’er, as a member of the mighty dragon race, could one day dominate Red Cliff Valley, he was now just a helpless little hatchling, whining and chirping.

So Zhou’er cautiously chewed grass and used the mashed pulp to cover his tail wound. For a fleeting moment, the fiery pain would subside upon application.

Unfortunately, since it wasn’t medicinal herbs, it didn’t have much effect. It was more of a psychological comfort than a genuine remedy.

At night, the temperature in Red Cliff Valley dropped significantly. Back when he was still in his eggshell, Zhou’er hadn’t noticed, but now, with his shell gone, the difference in temperature was keenly felt.

On the first night after his injury, the pain kept Zhou’er from falling asleep. The dull, searing ache in his tail brought tears to his eyes as he held it tightly.

[“I… I want to go back…”]

None of this had crossed his mind when 258 explained things to him. Influenced by movies, games, and anime, Zhou’er had always yearned for a fantastical world filled with dragons, elves, and magic.

But now, his fevered imagination cooled significantly.

By the fourth day, Zhou’er had eaten most of the green plants nearby. His earlier trauma still made him reluctant to venture far. On the fifth day, snow blanketed Red Cliff Valley, thick and white, like sugary frost.

With fewer plants to eat, Zhou’er resorted to eating snow.

Snow had no flavor, tasting like ice. It didn’t so much fill his belly as it tricked his senses.

For a moment, he genuinely thought he might starve to death in this strange world.

Later, he discovered that in extreme hunger, he could even eat soil and rocks. He couldn’t remember everything he tried—just a monotonous cycle of chewing and swallowing anything within reach.

It was pitiful. So pitiful that just thinking about it made him want to cry.

Thankfully, Morrison returned, bringing him meat.

But during Morrison’s absence, Zhou’er hadn’t been idle. He’d gotten more accustomed to his body and no longer struggled with coordination issues like he had at first.

Even so, Zhou’er disliked looking up at Morrison from such a low angle. So, tugging lightly on the corner of Morrison’s cloak, he attempted to climb up.

His first attempt was a bit clumsy.

But Zhou’er’s goal was clear—he wanted to reach Morrison’s shoulder. As he climbed, he muttered to himself,

“Hmph! Just wait. When I grow up a bit, I’ll fly straight up there!”

Zhou’er’s complaints automatically translated in Morrison’s mind as:

— “Waaah… I want… I want to get up there…”

Seeing the little pink dragon struggling so hard to climb up, tears welling up in its eyes, Morrison couldn’t bear to watch it struggle any longer. He simply reached out and cupped Zhou’er in his hands, helping the little one climb steadily onto his shoulder.

The little guy seemed to truly love this spot. Once Zhou’er perched on Morrison’s shoulder, his joy was unmistakable.

He draped his tail over Morrison’s neck; the short, cool tail felt like it was there for balance. Zhou’er pressed his whole body tightly against Morrison’s neck, and his tiny claws gripped Morrison’s collar firmly, as if afraid he might fall.

Morrison guessed right—Zhou’er really did like this perspective. Compared to having to crane his neck to look up at Morrison, this shoulder-height view was far better. Now, he could look at Morrison eye-to-eye.

Zhou’er was in such a great mood that he flapped his not-yet-fully-grown little wings a couple of times, and his short, stubby tail wagged back and forth.

He began handing out his “good person” badges again:

“Big brother, you’re such a great guy!”

However, in Morrison’s ears, the little pink dragon flapped his wings twice and said, “You’re so nice! Thank you!”

What a polite little dragon!

Though… he does talk a lot. A bit of a chatty little thing.

When Zhou’er discovered that Morrison could actually understand him, he immediately protested against the name “Little Lili.”

— “I already have a name! My name is Zhou’er! Zhou’er! Zhou’er!”

The little pink dragon blinked his bright, gem-like eyes at Morrison, his gaze shimmering as he occasionally fluttered his eyes. Faced with such a pleading, watery-eyed look, Morrison really couldn’t bring himself to refuse such a reasonable request.

He knew that higher beings like dragons indeed possessed inherited memories—knowledge and experiences imprinted in their genes and bloodlines from birth.

So… having a name already didn’t seem all that surprising.

Morrison tried pronouncing the name a few times in front of him, finally settling on a tone he found satisfactory and that the little pink dragon also seemed to approve of.

“Zhou’er… Zhou’er?”

Of the two characters in the name, the second one was easier to pronounce.

“Xiao Zhou’er?”

“……”

The baby dragon’s response was to laboriously turn away, refusing to look at him.

… So cute!

Though the injury on the little one’s tail wasn’t too deep, it was still a wound. Seeing the cut made Morrison feel uneasy.

In truth, Morrison had lied to Zhou’er earlier. He had told him it was his first time in Red Cliff Valley, but that wasn’t the case.

Morrison had even built a cabin on the other side of the valley, connected through spatial magic. Whenever he grew tired of the scheming and conflict among humans, he would retreat there for a while.

Even his longest-standing companions didn’t know about this secret. Now, he planned to take the baby dragon perched on his shoulder to his hidden base.

Although he had already treated Zhou’er’s tail and paws with basic care, Morrison wasn’t entirely reassured. His secret base had more comprehensive medical supplies.

As he mulled over how to explain this to Zhou’er, he barely got a sentence out before the little dragon agreed without hesitation. The trust Zhou’er placed in him made Morrison’s heart feel even softer.

Bringing his first little guest to the secret place felt… strangely special.

“Zhou’er… you can’t trust strange humans so easily in the future, alright?”

Perhaps due to a “hatchling attachment syndrome,” Zhou’er seemed particularly clingy toward him. When Morrison first encountered him, he hadn’t expected this at all.

He’d always been told that dragons generally despised humans, so he assumed a newly hatched dragon would fear him.

But Zhou’er was overjoyed to see him, even saying how worried he had been. The little dragon flapped his tiny wings furiously, trying to fling himself into Morrison’s arms, chirping short, sharp cries as he did so.

Who could possibly resist that?

As Morrison deftly maneuvered past the traps and disrupters he had set, Zhou’er simply watched, clueless about what he was doing. To Zhou’er, it looked like Morrison was weaving left and right for no reason, and then—where there had been nothing—suddenly appeared a small cabin nestled in the forest?!

“This is… spatial magic,” Morrison explained. “I made some modifications to the original design…”

Magic?! That’s amazing!!

Morrison gently patted the little pink dragon’s head. Although its scales weren’t as hard as those of an adult dragon, they had developed a thin protective layer over the past few days, a significant improvement from the soft, squishy flesh it had when it first hatched.

The texture felt amazing to the touch—cool and smooth.

Morrison couldn’t resist stroking it a couple more times.

Once they returned to his small base, Morrison carefully reapplied medicine to Zhou’er’s wounds. However, Zhou’er didn’t seem particularly concerned. Instead, what weighed on his mind more than the pain he had grown accustomed to was… hunger.

“Zhou’er, are you hungry now?”

Zhou’er’s pink crystal-like eyes immediately widened slightly.

—So hungry, so hungry, so hungry…

Seeing how ravenous he seemed, Morrison headed to his cabin’s storage cabinet. Inside were some canned goods and other supplies. He originally planned to give Zhou’er one of the cans,

But the little dragon, despite his small size, was quite picky. His gaze instantly locked onto the largest piece of dried meat in the cabinet—a chunk of jerky from an adult wild wolf, a creature significantly larger than the average wolf.

Looking at Zhou’er’s tiny frame, Morrison worried he wouldn’t be able to chew it.

Then, as if sensing his doubt, Zhou’er leaped lightly from Morrison’s shoulder onto the cabinet. Almost as if challenging him, the little dragon bit into the jerky right in front of him. Despite his small, barely visible sharp teeth, they turned out to be incredibly effective…

Of course—no matter how young, a dragon was still a dragon.

Morrison immediately realized this. A dragon’s strength far surpassed that of humans. The gap between the two species was immense, in both power and innate talent.

But before he could dwell on this for long, the little pink dragon glanced at him after taking a bite, as if worried Morrison hadn’t seen it clearly. To emphasize his point, Zhou’er chomped down on the jerky again right in front of him.

“How’s that? Surprised? Don’t underestimate me!”

That’s what Zhou’er was saying.

—Look! Look! Am I amazing or what?

That’s what Morrison heard.

As he spoke, the little dragon’s tail wagged energetically, probably out of… happiness?

Morrison guessed as much and responded positively.

“Yes, yes, very impressive.”

Looking at the size difference between Zhou’er and the piece of meat, Morrison couldn’t help but worry he might overeat. When Morrison asked this, Zhou’er, who was happily gnawing on the jerky, paused and looked pitifully at him, as though thinking Morrison was criticizing his appetite.

—But… but I’ve been starving for days…

In that moment, Morrison’s heart completely melted.

What Morrison didn’t realize, however, was that what he heard and what Zhou’er actually said were vastly different. But sometimes… misunderstandings weren’t such a bad thing.

Before Morrison could finish his thoughts, Zhou’er—who had just confidently claimed he could finish it all—ended up stopping halfway, unable to eat any more.

Naturally so. While Zhou’er’s appetite might be impressive compared to other creatures, he was still small. His digestive system wasn’t yet developed enough to handle an adult dragon’s portions.

“Zhou’er, do you want some water?”

The human knight leaned in attentively to ask.

Zhou’er hadn’t felt this full in a long time.

In the past, he had never gone hungry. He never imagined there would come a day when feeling full would be such a blessing. But after having experienced hunger, he ate without restraint, leaving his little belly round and slightly uncomfortable.

Morrison held back his laughter as he gently used his finger to rub Zhou’er’s small stomach. The little dragon sprawled motionlessly, resting for a while. Once he felt better, he resumed his activity, wandering around to inspect his “territory.”

The cabin didn’t seem to be frequently inhabited. There weren’t many signs of daily life, but it was tidied up nicely. Some hunting gear hung on the walls, along with bottles and jars that bubbled with mysterious substances Zhou’er couldn’t understand.

Morrison didn’t stop Zhou’er. Instead, he watched with interest as the little dragon explored, sniffing here and there.

Once Zhou’er had roamed enough, he returned to Morrison and tugged at the hem of his robe with his claw. The intent was clear. Morrison sighed softly and used his hand to help Zhou’er climb up to his shoulder.

After eating, Zhou’er became drowsy. After sleeping, he wanted to eat again.

And so, the day passed in a cycle of eating and sleeping.

By the next day, Zhou’er had become picky. He refused dried meat and canned food, expressing his desire for the fresh roasted meat he had tasted before.

“Alright… so I…” Morrison paused when he noticed Zhou’er’s slightly widened pupils. “Do you want to come with me, Zhou’er?”

Initially, Morrison planned to go by himself, leaving Zhou’er to wait in the cabin for a bit. After all, the cabin was protected by layered spatial magic and was very safe.

But Zhou’er seemed to have some lingering fear about Morrison leaving. His soft whining, even without translation, conveyed his sadness and anxiety.

The little pink dragon clung to his clothes with his claws, refusing to let him go. The urgency in his young voice made it seem like he was on the verge of tears, and his childlike tone only added to his pitifulness.

—You… you said you’d be back the next day before, but then…

—Can I go with you this time? I’m so scared…

On this continent, any race could claim weakness or fear, but dragons were the last ones who had any right to say such things.

After all, wherever they went, they were the apex predators.

But… Zhou’er was still just a baby.

Morrison raised a hand to gently stroke Zhou’er’s not-yet-fully-formed dragon horns, then lightly touched the small wings on his back.

Zhou’er enjoyed the caress, closing his eyes contentedly as Morrison’s hand moved over him.

“Alright, I’ll bring you along. But don’t wander off…”

Morrison usually didn’t speak to others in such a gentle tone. He hadn’t realized until now that his voice could be so soft.

Zhou’er was indeed upset. He thought back to the tough times he had endured. Hearing that Morrison wanted to leave him again was unacceptable, so he stuck close to him.

—“Are you kidding me? Last time you said the same thing! You promised to come back quickly… and what happened? You think I’m a toddler? No way I’m falling for that again!”

---

Back when Zhou’er was still an egg, he had no way of knowing where Morrison went or what he did, only that he would disappear for a while and return with prey.

This time, he followed Morrison.

That’s when he learned where the prey came from—an area inhabited by Li Li Beasts.

For the first time since coming to Red Cliff Valley, Zall ventured farther than ever before.

When he had first heard the name, he thought it referred to a small valley. But to his surprise, it was much larger than he had imagined. It resembled a dense, primeval forest more than a valley.

The deeper they went, the more overgrown the trees became. Their branches and leaves intertwined to the point of completely blocking out the sky, leaving the forest in near-total darkness. Even the exposed roots were thicker than the ancient trees Zhou’er had seen before.

Logically, it should have been too dark for him to see.

But not only could he see clearly, he saw everything with astonishing clarity.

This realization fascinated him, and he looked around curiously.

Morrison, with his extensive wilderness survival skills, navigated the dense forest with ease. It was as if he were strolling through his own backyard. He even had the leisure to introduce things to Zhou’er as they went.

He explained which trees belonged to which species, the names of different animals, and which plants were edible versus poisonous. His explanations were detailed and thorough.

“Zhou’er… are you listening? Look carefully—this one isn’t edible, got it?”

The little pink dragon tilted his head. “Yip…”

Inwardly, though, Zhou’er scoffed. Ridiculous. How could he not know what’s safe to eat at his age? Then his gaze landed on the plant Morrison was holding, and he went silent for a few seconds.

On the emerald-green branches hung several bright red fruits…

Well… he had secretly plucked a few earlier, struggling to hide them. Thinking that “the most dangerous place is the safest place,” Zhou’er decided to stash them in Morrison’s hood to avoid being discovered.

You couldn’t really blame him, though—they looked just like cherries.

Morrison, who had already noticed Zhou’er struggling to pick the fruits, repeated patiently, “You can’t eat these, okay? And they’re not sweet.”

The fruits contained a mild toxin with a numbing effect, which made them useful for localized anesthesia in the wild. However, their taste was extremely bitter and unpleasant.

Still convinced earlier that they must be sweet and delicious, Zhou’er raised his voice defensively, “How the hell was I supposed to know that?! What are you staring at? Look the other way!”

He reached out with his claws to push Morrison’s face. Zhou’er thought he looked fierce, but to Morrison, he was utterly adorable. The tiny pressure on his chin felt as light as a feather.

—What an impossibly cute little dragonling!

While Zhou’er thought he was headed in the exact same direction as before, Morrison seemed to have an internal compass guiding him. Before long, they arrived at a vast swamp.

With ease, Morrison grabbed a vine and swung lightly across it.

Halfway through, Morrison worried that Zhou’er might fall, so he carefully had him climb down from his shoulder. Once Zhou’er curled up in his arms, Morrison held him tightly, ensuring he wouldn’t slip.

For a human, Morrison’s skills were undeniably impressive.

Zhou’er’s vision and reflexes were already considered quite sharp, yet he couldn’t even spot where the small beast was. Morrison, however, immediately locked onto its location.

Interestingly, Morrison didn’t aim directly at the beast but slightly off to the side. Zhou’er initially thought Morrison had missed and mentally prepared to mock him relentlessly.

But just as the sound of a blade cutting through the air rang out, the strange, boar-sized furry beast reacted instantly, trying to flee—exactly in the direction and with the speed Morrison had predicted.

“Whoa!!! Holy crap!!!”

“This guy’s predictive skills are insane!”

“Legendary!!! Brothe, you’re amazing!”

Before Morrison returned, Zhou’er had been utterly helpless and starving to the brink of collapse. For the first time in his life, he understood what it felt like to be on the verge of death by hunger. He regretted all the food he’d wasted in the past, replaying those memories with bitter remorse.

During that time, he had been unusually calm—forced into maturity by sheer desperation. But the moment Morrison came back, Zhou’er instantly reverted to his old self without missing a beat.

Watching Morrison execute his moves so effortlessly, Zhou’er gestured as if he wanted to try. He seemed to have forgotten that he was only a few days out of his shell. He wasn’t even as long as the hilt of Morrison’s sword, let alone capable of throwing weapons with the speed and precision Morrison displayed. Plus, he couldn’t use any of the hunting tools Morrison carried.

After all, he didn’t have hands—he had little claws.

“Ahhh!!! It’s running away!!!”

“It’s still moving! Go finish it off! Finish it!!!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What did you just smear on it? Why isn’t it moving anymore? That’s amazing! I want some too!”

Zhou’er climbed higher, feeling like the view from Morrison’s shoulder wasn’t enough. He scrambled up to the top of Morrison’s head, excitedly chirping orders as if he were in charge—more frantic than Morrison himself.

Back in the day, Zhou’er loved using voice chat while gaming. His teammates would often beg him to mute because all they could hear the entire match was him yammering like a firecracker, exploding with commentary non-stop.

“There! Over there! Another one!”

“That way!!! THAT WAY!!!”

Morrison gently plucked the tiny dragon from the top of his head,

and lightly flicked Zhou’er’s forehead.

“Zhou’er, calm down.”

Zhou’er was far too excited, but hunting required composure and patience.

“Eep eep eep…”

What Morrison heard: I get it. Don’t be so harsh with me!

What Zhou’er actually meant: *I ***********!!!