Chapter 91: Cat, Little Cat

Escaping should have been easy.

A mere ten steps separated him from the wide-open door—a passage bridging the worlds inside and outside the painting.

But for Ji Li, it felt like traversing a chasm or scaling a mountain, each step a perilous gamble.

Even though he had discovered a method powerful enough to make the ghost bride hesitate, in the moment of near escape, he had let his guard down for a split second.

By the time he reacted, it was already too late.

Before the third persona could even issue a warning, Ji Li felt a crushing force seize his left arm.

It intensified rapidly, strong enough to pull back the foot he had just stepped forward with.

Dust smeared his face, long hair swaying without wind, as bones creaked under the opposing forces.

Dislocation came in an instant.

But having forced himself this far, Ji Li could not give in. His right hand clutched the doorframe tightly.

Fingernails dug deep into the wood, piercing through all ten fingers. The searing pain left him gasping, unable to endure.

He had exhausted all his strength, yet the arm holding the gun remained trapped by the shadow on the wall.

Crack!

His left arm was snapped cleanly by the opposing force, yet the assault did not stop.

Ji Li screamed skyward. Tears and rage mixed as his coat tore along the seams, the rips widening.

With a heavy thud, he lifted his head and found himself inside another room, bathed in red light.

He spun around, and behind him was still the altar table, bearing only a single painting.

The bride’s red veil remained still. The elderly woman lay in bed, seemingly unaware of him.

The silence was absolute, as if nothing had happened.

Only his left arm was gone.

Blood seeped from between his clenched teeth, eyes bloodshot, yet he forced the unbearable pain down.

He picked up the backpack from the floor, clutching it, his right hand pressed against the bleeding left shoulder, and stepped carefully away from the elderly woman’s room.

If he had the strength, he would not have spared this strange elderly woman.

But now, any delay could cost him his life.

As Ji Li fully left the room, the elderly woman, previously appearing oblivious, suddenly opened her eyes.

She rose stiffly from the bed, her movements shockingly fluid compared to her earlier frailty.

Yet it matched her youthful face.

A faint glow danced in her eyes as she watched Ji Li leave, silent.

Subtle traces of pity and frustration seemed to flicker within her…

No one else could ever understand.

The moon hung high in the sky, stars sparse, suggesting good weather even before dawn.

The autumn wind felt softer than usual, ever since Ji Li had lost an arm.

His senses were in chaos from prolonged exertion; he had kept moving without pause.

Up to this point, he had suffered the most contact and persecution from the ghost bride.

Fang Shenyan, though severely injured, could still move normally, except for being unable to speak.

For Ji Li, missing an arm made his situation far graver.

A light breeze blew across his face, parting his hair and letting him see the path ahead more clearly.

He made no effort to hide his movements. The Li Mansion was already chaotic.

One more or one less made no difference.

If his guess was correct, another faction should still be alive in this mansion.

The known living parties were the staff, Chen Fu and the elderly woman, and the person who had previously lifted the tile to spy on him.

Ji Li remained wary of that faction.

Even with the ghost revealed, the mysterious figure had yet to appear.

The uncertainty made him uneasy, especially now.

Clutching his left arm, he paused briefly along the way, tending to his wound and stopping the bleeding before moving on.

He chose the back yard, planning to leave the Li Mansion through the rear gate. The farther from the painting, the better.

Everything else could wait.

The meeting at Tongguan with the others tomorrow no longer concerned him. He would only regroup with Fang Shenyan that night.

Heavy eyelids dragged him down as he moved through the back alleys, searching for shelter wherever he could.

As he walked, Ji Li felt that nowhere was truly safe.

The surroundings were deathly silent, and from the shadows, it seemed as if eyes were watching him.

His mind grew increasingly foggy. Shaking his head hard, he suddenly heard a faint sound from the wall above his right.

Instinctively, Ji Li swung his knife in self-defense.

“SCREEEEE!”

A cat’s pitiful cry rang out as it fell from the wall. It wasn’t dead—only its hind leg had been scratched by the blade.

Ji Li stared at the injured tabby cat on the ground for two seconds before bending down to scoop it into his arms.

Strangely, the cat didn’t struggle much. For this human who had harmed it, its night-black eyes seemed to hold a hint of curiosity.

Even though Ji Li’s awareness was blurred, his knife had remained precise—just aimed at the wrong target.

Walking on, Ji Li looked out at the vast emptiness and felt a deep loneliness.

Pain had faded into cold numbness. Half his body was devoid of sensation, and he moved purely through sheer will.

The tabby cat stayed calm in his arms, licking the wound as if simply cleaning it.

Ji Li had always seen everyone in the world as an enemy.

Everyone would kill him; in his memories, the real world did not exist.

This place was his earliest memory, his world.

No one was innocent. Ji Li could kill anyone, and no one was beyond killing him.

This mindset had kept him alive for so long, but it had also left him weary.

Sleep gradually crept in.

The tabby cat suddenly jumped from his arms. Its injured hind leg shook briefly before seeming fully healed.

Vigorous and lively, it made Ji Li think he was imagining things, but he didn’t overreact.

Some things changed with the advancement of the task.

Perhaps the appearance of the cat was no coincidence.

This cat was not ordinary.

Its eyes shone brightly in the dark, illuminating Ji Li’s battered face, as if signaling him to follow.

Losing his own judgment, Ji Li unconsciously followed it into a small residence in the back alley of the Li Mansion.

It didn’t look inhabited—just a wind-leaking flat—but it was more than enough for his current state.

He collapsed onto the floor, teetering on unconsciousness, but clenched his tongue to stay awake.

From his backpack, he took out special medicine to cool the wound, treated it first, and wrapped it carefully with gauze.

He changed into fresh clothes, leaving the old ones on the bed, seemingly for the tabby.

The cat, surprisingly perceptive, jumped onto the clothes, circled once, then curled up facing Ji Li as he lay down.

It had forgotten the harm Ji Li had done to it.

Ji Li stared at the cat’s hind leg and gradually drifted into sleep.

The wound from five minutes ago had disappeared.