Thành was a cat lover. Who could possibly resist the charm of those fluffy, meowing furballs? Back in his old world, he had a cat named Cơm Rang as his companion. Now in this one, he often snuck around the kitchen, making friends with the household cats.

He never expected little Soạn to like cats too. Thành had once caught him staring blankly at the cats sunbathing in the courtyard, but he hadn't realized that was the gaze of a true cat servant, yearning to serve.

His heart melted a little. If Soạn wanted to pet a cat, he shouldn't have to ask for permission. It just went to show how insecure the kid felt in this house. It made sense, though. Vân Trang and Soạn were orphans, alone in the world. The original Trương Văn Thành had been cold and indifferent. Those two must have spent a long time tiptoeing around others, afraid to step out of line. Who knew, maybe the servants had even bullied them when no one was looking.
Thành’s childhood was spent in an orphanage. The caretakers there treated him well enough, but he had long understood that among the many sorrowful faces of orphaned children, he was nothing special. He had no real family to protect him, no place to call home. He knew all too well what it felt like to constantly worry about displeasing others.

So when little Soạn made such a seemingly small request—one that must have taken a great deal of courage—Thành’s heart ached for him.

What a sweet and sensible kid.

“Of course!” Thành beamed, ruffling Soạn’s hair. “If you want, you can even cuddle a cat while you sleep. As long as it agrees, of course.”

Soạn’s eyes widened. He had never even considered the possibility of sleeping with a cat. His face instantly brightened, and the corners of his lips twitched upward before he could stop them.

Seeing the kid smile, Thành was a little taken aback.

Lê Soạn had deep dimples on both cheeks. Just the slightest grin was enough for them to appear. Thành realized that, since he had only skimmed through the novel, he must have missed many details. But to overlook such an important feature of the main character’s appearance? That was practically a crime against the author.

Then again, it made sense. Soạn never smiled when he got into bed.

…Wait.

Thành suddenly realized that thinking about this kid’s future bedroom activities might not be the best use of his mental energy, so he quickly forced his thoughts elsewhere.

And so, the overenthusiastic brother-in-law took his shy little brother-in-law to go pet some cats.

In the kitchen of the estate, there was a female tabby cat that had recently given birth to a litter of five kittens. The kittens were almost a month old—playful, fearless, and full of energy. Thành carefully picked up a little white-and-gold one and placed it in Soạn’s lap.

It was the first time Soạn had ever touched a cat, and he was absolutely flustered. The tiny kitten trembled as it climbed onto his thigh, playfully scratching at his pants. Its tiny claws hooked onto Soạn’s skin, making him wince, but he remained still, letting the kitten do as it pleased. Thành taught him how to pet a cat properly, where to scratch to make it comfortable, and the correct way to hold it without getting scratched. Soạn listened attentively, occasionally running his fingers gently over the kitten’s soft fur.

And there they were again—those dimples.

While Soạn was completely absorbed in petting the kitten, Thành was just as absorbed in watching him. The kid was so well-behaved, so adorable, yet so pitiful. Thành wanted to protect him, wanted to make sure those dimples always stayed on his face.

From that day on, Lê Soạn trailed after Thành like a little shadow. In the mornings, they studied together—Soạn patiently helping him with things he didn’t understand, and Thành making some progress in his learning. In the afternoons, they wandered the streets and brought back treats for Vân Trang or spent hours playing with the cats. At night, they sat through Master Nhữ the flamboyant’s lectures.

Soạn seemed to have warmed up to Thành. He smiled more, and there were even times when he actively sought Thành out, hoping to be taken out to play. However, Thành noticed that the kid never touched the cats unless he was around, nor did he ever dare bring a kitten into his room.

Well, since Soạn was already such a considerate and thoughtful child, Thành figured he wouldn’t push his luck by spoiling him any further.

In the litter of kittens, it seemed like Soạn had taken a special liking to the little bicolor one Thành let him hold that first day. Every time they passed by the kitchen, his eyes would dart around, searching for it. Thành told Soạn to give it a name. After some serious discussion, the two finally settled on Xôi Xéo.

Xôi Xéo turned out to be a very smart cat. It was almost like, after getting named, it officially acknowledged Soạn as its owner and started trailing after him, meowing nonstop. A few weeks later, the kittens were strong enough to be rehomed. The kitchen servants gave most of them away but were considerate enough to leave Xôi Xéo behind. Soạn and Xôi Xéo became inseparable.

Until one day…

Calling Trương Văn Thành a useless aristocrat wouldn’t be wrong at all. He literally did nothing all day, yet food and drink were still brought right to his mouth. But even so, every now and then, he’d still get dragged out to visit family.

And by “family,” of course, that meant the person with the biggest bedroom in the palace.

Thành knew that the previous owner of this body was some distant nephew of the current emperor. Distant as in, if some random princess suddenly decided to fall for him, even modern laws wouldn’t dare accuse her of incest.

And yet, despite that flimsy blood connection, Thành’s oh-so-distant uncle seemed to care an awful lot about him.

The first time Thành was summoned to the palace, he nearly lost his mind.

He was a modern man—what the hell did he know about imperial court etiquette? Back home, he was the boss, bowing to no one. But inside the palace? One wrong move and off with his head!

He got the summons right in the middle of his afternoon snack. Barely managing to shove the last bite into his mouth, he sprinted over to lady Thị Diễm to ask how many times he needed to kowtow upon meeting the emperor.

To his surprise, the old lady just shrugged and said, “Just act normal. His Majesty doesn’t like bootlickers.”

When Thành was finally led into the emperor’s study, he immediately dropped to his knees, kowtowed three times, and shouted,

“Long live His Majesty! Long live! Long, long live!”

“Ugh, get up, get up. Good grief. You’ve been reading too many trashy novels, haven’t you?”

The voice that responded was a lazy drawl—eerily similar to the street vendors back in his old world yelling, "Old junk for sale! Old junk for sale!"

The emperor was a short, middle-aged uncle. Dark-skinned, scrawny, with sunken cheeks and a sparse chin beard—he didn’t exactly radiate the imposing aura of a ruler.

His Majesty gave Thành a few friendly pats on the shoulder and invited him to play a round of chess. While they played, the emperor casually asked about random things—how Thành’s mother and Vân Trang were doing, if anything new had happened at home—like some distant uncle making small talk at a family reunion.

After an hour, Thành was free to go.

From then on, every few weeks, he’d get “invited” back to the palace for another round of chess. Thành sucked at the game—he lost every single time. But the emperor didn’t seem to mind. He just kept smiling that mysterious little smile, playing slowly and asking the same harmless-sounding questions.

He’s definitely testing me. Thành broke into a nervous sweat.

Shit… did he find out Thành secretly got Đoàn Văn Nhữ to tutor Lê Soạn?

Today, Thành was summoned to the palace again.

Since morning, his right eye had been twitching nonstop. He had a bad feeling about this, but he couldn’t keep the eunuchs waiting. After quickly dressing up, he headed straight for the palace.

On the way, he ran into Đoàn Văn Nhữ.

Unlike his usual carefree self—the same person who had been lounging naked on Thành’s bed just the other day—today, Văn Nhữ was all dressed up in full official robes, complete with a winged cap, looking serious and proper. When their eyes met, Văn Nhữ gave him a pained smile.

Neither of them said a word. They just kept walking in silence.

The emperor was as friendly and down-to-earth as ever. He ordered Văn Nhữ to play chess while allowing Thành to sit and watch. Everything seemed normal, as if nothing ominous was about to happen.

Except for one thing.

The entire match was played in absolute silence.

Thành watched the match, silently worrying for Văn Nhữ.

Back when he played, he could afford to be carefree—he was terrible at chess, so losing to the emperor was perfectly normal. But Văn Nhữ was different. The guy actually had a brain. There was no way he could lose as easily as Thành did.

Playing chess with the emperor was a dangerous game. Win or lose, either way, it could turn out badly.

The match ended with Văn Nhữ’s victory.

The emperor stroked his beard, laughing heartily, then called for the eunuchs to reward Văn Nhữ with a few trinkets. Everything seemed fine... until the emperor suddenly dropped a bombshell:

"Lately, the two of you don’t seem as close as before, huh?"

Thành turned pale as a ghost.

Văn Nhữ immediately clasped his hands together in a formal bow.

"Your Majesty, I—"

"It’s fine. It’s fine. I understand," His Majesty said casually. "How’s your marriage coming along?"

"Your Majesty, our parents have agreed to hold the betrothal ceremony next month," Văn Nhữ replied.

It was true—Đoàn Văn Nhữ was preparing to get married. Thành didn’t dare claim he had helped him as much as promised. Either way, the bride’s family had wanted this match for a while now.

His Majesty stroked his beard. "Marriage is a significant event in a man’s life. It shouldn’t be taken lightly. However..."

He turned to Thành.

"It doesn’t seem very appropriate for a man about to get married to still be spending nights at another man’s house."

Văn Nhữ instantly dropped to his knees, forehead pressed to the floor.

Seeing that, Thành panicked and followed suit.

Oh, shit.

A cold chill ran down Thành’s spine. Would he even make it home alive today?

His Majesty didn’t tell them to rise. He took a slow sip of tea, savoring it, before continuing at a leisurely pace.

"I hear Lê Soạn is quite the rare talent?"

"Your Majesty, Lê Soạn may not be a once-in-a-lifetime prodigy, but he truly is a quick learner. If he had started his education earlier, he would have easily surpassed his peers," Văn Nhữ replied clearly, still keeping his forehead pressed to the floor.

"That makes sense. His father was a scholar of great talent. It’s just a shame..." His Majesty sighed. "To think his son has been left to drift like this… I wonder if, from the heavens, he resents me for it."

The emperor reached down to help Thành to his feet, patting the dust off his shoulders.

"I know you have a kind heart. You see a child in need, and you want to help. But in this world, one must always look ahead and behind before making a move. I may be your uncle, but I am also the ruler of this nation. No matter how much I may want to, I cannot shield everything with just one hand."

Leaving Văn Nhữ kneeling where he was, His Majesty clasped his hands behind his back and continued speaking.

"Đoàn Văn Nhữ, you may be talented, but you're still young and inexperienced. Naturally, your actions won’t always be flawless. Have you realized your mistake this time?"

"I have, Your Majesty."

Thành stood there awkwardly, head lowered. He had no idea what these two were hinting at with their cryptic exchange.

"As for Lê Soạn…" The emperor waved a hand dismissively. "Starting next month, I will arrange for him to study at the Imperial Academy alongside the children of officials."

After saying a few more words, His Majesty dismissed them. It seemed Văn Nhữ wasn’t punished—in fact, he was even promoted to be a lecturer at the Academy.

The two young men, pale as sheets, quietly trudged out of the palace. Even when they got into their separate sedan chairs to return home, all they did was give each other a feeble wave goodbye.

As soon as Thành arrived home, he was met with loud cries and shouting.

In the main courtyard, Vân Trang was holding little Soạn protectively. The boy stood still, his face completely expressionless. Meanwhile, Madam Thị Diễm was pointing and yelling, and standing beside her, Thành’s cousin, Thị Loan, was shrieking just as loudly as her aunt.