PSW Chapter 54: The Black Kitten Who Knows How to Act Cute

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Yofar dismounted his horse swiftly and decisively, the ornaments on his body jingling with the motion. His perfectly sculpted features burned with fury, and even his royal guards barely had time to react before he strode forward in just a few long strides.

His tall, commanding figure cast a shadow over them.

The woman holding the cat blinked and looked up at the man standing before her.

A regal aura of power and authority radiated from him—his posture imposing, his chin lifted in controlled anger, exuding both restraint and arrogance. His cold, pale complexion was rare in Egypt, contrasting strikingly with his dazzling platinum hair and piercing blue eyes that gleamed like gemstones.

She had seen many precious, extravagant jewels in her lifetime, yet this man—one glance into his eyes, and any woman would feel an urgent, irresistible longing to be reflected within them.

Even in the filth and stench of the dog market, he seemed to glow with an almost divine brilliance.

Especially…

The woman’s gaze flickered briefly over the red-and-white double crown atop Yofar’s head—the symbol of a unified Upper and Lower Egypt. She couldn't help but admire him inwardly. As expected of the Conquering King, renowned for both his valor and his beauty.

Power, youth, striking looks, and ruthless ferocity.

He embodied everything divine favor could bestow upon a ruler. His very existence was an act of conquest, and in turn, he ignited the desire in others to conquer him.

When Yofar sensed her assessing gaze, his sharp features turned even colder. Immediately, the woman curved her eyes in a respectful smile and gracefully lowered her gaze, shifting her focus to the two golden armlets encircling his exposed arms beneath his white robes.

Unlike her, the little black kitten was anything but composed. Bastet shrank back, ears flattening, desperately avoiding Yofar’s piercing stare. He practically buried his head in the kind lady’s embrace, as if hoping to disappear into the safety of her arms.

Yofar took in the sight of his cat—dirty, disheveled, late by over an hour with no explanation, and now, to top it all off, trying to burrow into the arms of a stranger.

Something unidentifiable boiled up inside him—a fire tinged with sour bitterness, burning just beneath his chest.

Shameless.

The handsome king clenched his fists, murder flashing through his cold blue eyes.

If Bastet weren’t fundamentally just a cat, a creature ignorant of human morals, Yofar would have personally executed him already.

After all, Bastet had already received his favor. Yet here he was—boldly, brazenly cuddling up to another in front of his very eyes!

To a king, this was betrayal. An unforgivable insult.

Yofar could not tolerate it.

A chilling aura loomed behind him, as if a sinister black mist were rising in his wake. The air around them grew heavy with foreboding.

The woman hesitated, then finally broke the silence with a gentle bow. “Your Majesty… Are you the Pharaoh, Lord Memphis? May I ask—”

“Bastet.”

Yofar cut her off coldly, his gaze locked onto the black kitten still avoiding him.

“Before I slaughter them all—before I execute you—return to me.”

“…”

Both Bastet and the woman froze.

Two pairs of eyes lifted simultaneously, searching Yofar’s expression for any sign that he was joking.

But unfortunately, there was none.

Yofar stood there, expressionless, while behind him, his ever-loyal royal guards gripped their weapons, ready to obey his command at a moment’s notice.

He was completely serious.

Everyone present understood—they had just received the warning before a blood-soaked beginning.

"Meow, meow, meow!"
No, no, no! I was wrong, I was wrong…

Bastet wriggled a little in the kind lady’s arms, but his injured back hurt too much to jump down. Fortunately, the lady was very thoughtful—she actually lifted him up and offered him to Yofar.

Bastet let out a relieved sigh and, in his heart, sent her a silent "thank you."

"So this is your cat… Please be careful with him. He ran too fast earlier and seems to have injured his back."

The woman gently reminded him. Yofar glanced at the sweat on her forehead and responded with a soft "Hmm" before taking Bastet into his arms. With practiced ease, he cradled the black kitten, one hand pressing gently against his back. Feeling the little furball tremble beneath his touch, then yelp in pain, Yofar’s brows furrowed.

Hearing Bastet’s pitiful cries, most of Yofar’s anger dissipated. With clean, steady fingers, he parted the dirt-streaked fur on Bastet’s back and carefully examined the wound.

His expression was dark, but his movements were gentle.

His hands, perpetually cool to the touch, seemed to ease the pain. Bastet’s shivering lessened slightly, and he sniffled.

People were strange creatures—when no one comforted them, they could endure their grievances in silence. But the moment someone showed them kindness, even the smallest injury or hardship could make them want to break down and cry.

Bastet tucked in his paws, sniffling and tearing up.

Soon, Yofar’s arms and hands turned red from an allergic reaction to the cat fur. He glanced at his arm, but instead of noticing his own discomfort, his eyes first caught the streaks of muddy blood on it. He flipped over Bastet’s little paws.

As expected, the soft, pink paw pads were riddled with cuts, with tiny splinters embedded in them.

"Meow…"

It hurts…

Owwuu!—My servant, someone bullied me! They even set dogs on me! I lost the fur on my head!

Nestled in his master's arms, Bastet whimpered, his voice trembling with every note.

Hearing his meows, Yofar felt the last remnants of his fury and thoughts of punishment melt away completely. Without hesitation, he cradled Bastet in one arm and mounted his horse in a single swift motion.

"Vice-Captain, stay behind and handle this. The rest, return to the palace!"

The strikingly handsome king gave his orders to his guards, then tightened his reins and led the retreat.

Immediately, half of the royal guards remained behind to restore order, while the rest followed their king, swiftly carrying the unconscious Aelsa along with them as they made their way back to the palace.

Watching the cavalry disappear into the distance, the woman was stunned. He… just left?

This wasn’t how she had imagined the scene playing out!

She instinctively took a step forward, wanting to follow and see more, but a tall vice-captain of the guards blocked her path.

The vice-captain’s face was expressionless. "Miss, please cooperate with our investigation regarding what happened here."

"I…" The woman frowned, but with the cavalry already gone, she had no choice but to shift her focus back. Smiling brightly, she nodded and said with admiration, "Of course, I’ll cooperate… Forgive me if this sounds presumptuous, but just now—that must have been the legendary Conquering King, His Majesty Memphis, correct? The king personally left the palace to search for his cat… It seems the rumors are not entirely reliable. His Majesty is far more compassionate than they say."

Compassionate?

The vice-captain cast her a long, scrutinizing look. Noting that her accent wasn’t Egyptian, his tone turned icy as he warned, "The king is only compassionate toward Lord Bastet, the cat god. Those who offend Egypt will never be spared."

The woman chuckled and gave a respectful bow. "Yes, I understand."

So Saya hadn't lied to her.

Thanks to that little cat, she had found the perfect way to introduce herself to Egypt’s Conquering King.

……

The Egyptian night was nothing like the daytime, where the sky seemed impossibly far from the earth. Instead, the black expanse flowed with the Milky Way, stars scattered across it, shining as if they were within reach.

Bastet lay on his stomach on the bed, a blanket covering his lower half while his bare back was exposed. His chin rested on a soft pillow, and he held a mirror in both hands, sniffling as he repeatedly examined his now curled, messy black hair. After several glances, tears streamed down his face.

His triangular cat ears—normally perking up with a "bling bling" when happy and flicking around when upset—had lost all their energy. They drooped softly backward, forming a pitiful "airplane ears" posture.

At the foot of the bed, Yofar sat with a cold expression, his gaze fixed on the red-purple bruises swelling on the boy’s back. His right hand rested on Bastet’s small leg, possessive like a beast guarding its food.

Maintaining this position, his other hand was being treated by Alina, the elderly female attendant kneeling on the ground, who carefully applied ointment to soothe his allergic reaction with a piece of gauze.

The old physician lowered his gaze awkwardly, avoiding any speculation about the relationship between this unexpected young man and the king. However… when he noticed how the king’s hand was placed on the boy’s leg, he hesitated before pulling out a pair of thin lambskin gloves from his medical kit. Only after putting them on did he begin examining the wounds on Bastet’s back.

These lambskin gloves were typically reserved for noble ladies, queens, or concubines—to maintain propriety.

Sure enough, as soon as the physician did this, he noticed that the cold hostility on the king’s face faded slightly.

Oh ho, thought the old physician. After all these years, the king finally has someone he favors—and it turns out to be someone with cat ears! Shouldn’t we be calling a veterinarian for this? I wonder if the two high priests know about this…

Suppressing his burning curiosity, the physician maintained a professional demeanor, deliberately avoiding too many glances at Bastet’s furry ears. He carefully pressed against different spots on Bastet’s back, checking for pain, all while inquiring about how the injury had occurred.

The burning pain on Bastet’s back flared up at the slightest touch. The moment the physician pressed down lightly, Bastet let out a loud yelp, nearly leaping off the bed.

Yofar immediately tightened his grip on Bastet’s small leg, his fingers under the blanket firmly grasping his tail. He issued a low, commanding warning, "Don’t move!"

Bastet turned his head, his emerald-green cat eyes filled with tears, and whined in protest.

"Meow, meow, meow! Meow meow meow—meow meow meow!"

"…"

Yofar was silent for a moment before speaking flatly. "Speak human language."

"Meow?"

Bastet froze, then suddenly realized—he had been in so much pain that he’d forgotten he was in human form! Damn!

"It hurts… It hurts, and you’re still pulling my tail!"

Flustered and frustrated, Bastet’s face turned red as he angrily kicked at Yofar’s hand with his small feet, whining and rubbing against him for comfort.

Yofar glanced at him with an unreadable expression but remained silent.

This expression seemed a bit off. Bastet wanted to take a closer look, but the old physician asked about his wounds, so he had to answer first.

After a thorough examination, the old physician picked a box of greenish ointment from his large medical chest. It had a rather unique smell.

With a kindly and benevolent expression, the old physician took out some gauze, used a small wooden spatula to evenly spread the ointment over Bastet's swollen back, then wrapped it in gauze. He instructed, “Your bones are fine, but you still need to take care of yourself. No bathing, no lying down to sleep. The ointment might itch a bit after application, but just bear with it.”

Bastet felt the difference—the burning pain on his back was no longer tormenting him. The cool ointment soothed the burning sensation, replacing it with an itching sting instead.

Next came his feet.

The splinters were tiny, blending in with the color of his flesh. Some were quite deep, and the old physician had to carefully cut around them with a small knife, spending quite a while extracting them all.

After precisely three hours, both of his feet and one of his hands were wrapped up like a mummy. The old physician, having completed his work, slung his medical chest over his back and took his leave, leaving Bastet lying on the bed, utterly miserable—unable to even tilt his head.

Meanwhile, Yofar’s allergic reaction was gradually subsiding. It was time to rest, so he dismissed the maids. The maids withdrew to the entrance of the chamber, extinguishing the extra lamps and leaving only a few to prevent the vast sleeping quarters from feeling too cold and empty.

Yofar undressed and lay in bed. Perhaps out of concern for Bastet’s injured back, he only pulled the covers up to his waist.

Bastet remained silent. Yofar also said nothing. The usually harmonious atmosphere between them felt unbearably strange today.

A pair of triangular cat ears twitched.

Lying on the bed, Bastet turned his head and stared pitifully at the back of Yofar’s platinum-colored head. Though Yofar hadn’t scolded or hit him, Bastet could tell—he was definitely still mad.

Was it really that serious…?

Feeling neglected, the feline boy opened his mouth and gently bit the end of Yofar’s long hair, savoring the scent belonging to him. His large, emerald-green eyes stared unblinkingly at the back of Yofar’s head.

Bastet: Stare———

One minute, two minutes.

Bastet: Stare———

Three minutes, four minutes.

Bastet: Stare——— I can’t anymore! Ugh, my cat eyes are sore!

The sleepless cat covered his eyes and rolled around in frustration, puzzled. Usually, Yofar had an exceptionally sharp sense of awareness. Even the slightest glance in his direction would be noticed instantly. What was going on today?

Had Yofar’s "Bastet Detection Radar" malfunctioned?

Out of service due to an unpaid bill?

Bastet was convinced Yofar was deliberately ignoring him. He bit Yofar’s hair, nibbled at it affectionately, and continued to puzzle over the mystery.

Meanwhile, facing away from him, the young and handsome king lay awake, his eyes open. He ignored the faint tugging on his scalp and the intense gaze burning into the back of his head. In the dim lighting, his expression remained unreadable as he silently listened to the cat behind him sigh.

Reckless, thoughtless, out of control…

Fooling around with an unfamiliar woman, then trying to get away with some sweet talk?

Yofar: Ha. Ha ha ha.

Determined to keep ignoring the foolish cat, the young king pretended to be oblivious to all the small movements behind him.

He let Bastet bite his hair, scratch his back, and fidget around endlessly.

The clingy cat prodded Yofar’s shoulder blades, murmuring, “Yofar, Yofar, are you asleep? My back hurts.”

Yofar: Hmph, good. Let it hurt.

The clingy cat pouted, “Are you really asleep? But we haven’t had our goodnight kiss today.”

Yofar: …Hmph. No kiss!

The clingy cat kept squirming and making little noises. “You’re not really asleep, are you, Yofar? Yofar, Yofar, Yooo~far~~~ Let’s kiss, okay? We have one every day, missing a day would be such a waste. A kiss tomorrow won’t be the same as a kiss today.”

Yofar frowned slightly, his ice-blue eyes flickering with hesitation.

Maybe he hesitated too long because the clingy cat assumed he was actually asleep and muttered, “If you’re really asleep, then never mind. I’ll just kiss your back instead, hehe. Mu~a!”

His soft, pouty lips landed gently on the firm shoulder blade.

A small “pop” sound echoed, accompanied by the boy’s silly little giggle.

That sound instantly pierced through Yofar’s back and struck his heart directly.

Whoosh—his cold heart melted.

Yofar’s lips curled up slightly.

After the kiss, he heard the little thing behind him smacking his lips and finally settling down.

About half an hour later, steady breathing sounds came from behind him. Only then did Yofar turn over slightly, finally allowing the cat-eared boy’s sleeping face to come into view.

The injuries on his back weren’t light. Even in his sleep, Bastet furrowed his brows. A slender finger brushed against his upturned, cherry-red lips, carefully pulling away a few strands of platinum hair caught between them.

Yofar watched him, staring for a while before planting a kiss on Bastet’s slightly sweaty forehead.

“I forgive you,” Yofar murmured. “Just this once.”

“……”

The clingy cat was pulled back into a familiar embrace, careful not to press against his wounded back.

As he nestled against the familiar warmth, supposedly sound asleep, Bastet stealthily raised a paw and made a silent “V” sign in the darkness.

Hehe.

Knew you cared about me.

Wink!

____

Author’s Note: [Small Theater]

Bastet: Everyone says I’m a fool, but actually, I’m super smart most of the time!

Bastet: (^_-)

T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊

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