Chapter 22: A Glitch in Memory (Part One)

"Oh, you really are quite useless."
"And besides, you look absolutely awful when you cry, so stop it."
Facing the pitiful little ball of fur, Chao Xu felt no sympathy—if anything, a hint of disdain.
The furball: ...
This isn’t right. Normally, wouldn’t the young lady hug it and say it’s the best system in the world?
Hmph, lousy host.
Heart heavy and breath stifled, the furball, so angry it no longer wished to cry, turned away and sulked in the corner.
"Alright, alright, stop sulking."
Chao Xu picked it up again. "I have no memories. In this world, no matter how useless you are, you’re the only one I can rely on, little ball."
The only reliance?
"R-really?" The furball, now a blushing powdery ball, stammered shyly.
"Of course it’s true."
Chao Xu looked at the furball with utmost sincerity in her eyes.
Yet, in her heart, she thought, This little thing is so easy to fool.

Sure enough, in less than a minute, the furball had been coaxed into obedience, completely forgetting it had just been scolded by Chao Xu.
"Now that you’re not crying, let’s go."
Once the furball stopped crying, Chao Xu casually lifted it, pressed a baseball cap onto her head, and prepared to leave.
"Go? Host, where are you going?"
"To school," Chao Xu narrowed her eyes, her expression inscrutable as she gazed at the darkening sky outside the window.
Her words carried an innate arrogance and dominance: "Isn’t the memory a bug? If that bastard won’t fix it, I’ll go and retrieve it myself."
Nothing could stand in her way.
The furball’s tiny heart thumped wildly—why was the host so impressive today?
So cool, want to marry.
But before the furball could be excited for even two seconds, the previously bold Chao Xu switched back to a languid demeanor.
"But if I really can’t find it, so be it. I still have to go home for dinner—after all, food is the most important thing."
The furball: ...
It was mistaken; it should never have had any expectations of the host from the start.
With a sigh, the furball resigned itself to follow Chao Xu out.
But just as they were about to leave, at the very last second, Ci Mo—who had been huddled in the corner like a transparent shadow—finally moved. As Chao Xu reached for the door, he rushed over and grabbed her sleeve.

His expression tense, "Where are you going?"
Chao Xu looked down at the pale, slender hand trembling from gripping her sleeve too tightly. After a silent moment, she forcibly pried it off.
Then, rising on tiptoe, she gently rubbed Ci Mo’s head. "I’ll be back soon. Don’t follow me."
Her tone—uncannily reminiscent of a heartless woman.
The furball, seeing Ci Mo's tearful eyes, couldn’t help but feel pity. "Host, look how pitiful he is. Why not take him along?"
"No," Chao Xu’s reply was unusually firm. "Taking you is troublesome enough. I refuse to bring another burden."
She preferred solitude, disliked company. As for the furball... she never considered it a person.
While the fur-not-a-person-ball was about to protest, Ci Mo spoke up first, timidly gazing at Chao Xu, "You can go, and you don’t have to take me. Just come back early, okay?"
That pitiful look—like a wife watching her husband cheat, helplessly preparing dinner and waiting for him to return home in misery.
Though it was a simple exchange, the furball suddenly felt as though it had witnessed a dramatic soap opera.
And its own little pitiful host—was nothing but a cold-hearted playboy.