After lunch, through the afternoon and evening, Hickson kept Fufu entertained in the playroom, letting the pup fully acclimate to the new environment. He even skipped work the next morning, staying home to keep Fufu company while handling work remotely.
Fortunately, Fufu seemed naturally unafraid of strangers—both people and places alike—and was having a wonderful time in the new room.
But Hickson couldn't stay home forever. There was a meeting that afternoon he absolutely had to attend, which meant he had to part ways with the pup.
Hickson felt a bit worried. After all, since Fufu had come to his home, he'd never truly been separated from the pup.
He knew this day would come eventually and had prepared in advance, but now that the moment had actually arrived—leaving Fufu alone in the room for an entire afternoon—he still couldn't shake his unease.
Fufu, meanwhile, was completely carefree, sitting on the carpet and playing with toys.
It was almost funny, really. When he'd first adopted Fufu, he'd thought about raising the pup to be as independent as possible, so the pup wouldn't interfere with his work. And now that he had to entrust Fufu to someone else, he was more anxious than the pup himself.
It was only a few hours of separation, after all.
Hickson told himself to stay calm. Uther was a very reliable werewolf—with him watching over things, nothing would go wrong. He just needed to focus on work, then come back after his shift to have dinner with Fufu.
He'd prepared a Star-pad, toys, and snacks in the room, set up surveillance cameras with full-range tracking capabilities, and instructed Fufu to only play in that room until his brother came back—absolutely not to leave—and to video-call him if anything came up.
There was also a dedicated smart monitor at the door; if the pup tried to sneak out, the system would alert Uther with a message.
And this room—converted from his own bedroom into a playroom—was already spacious enough, bigger than all the rooms in their old apartment combined, giving Fufu plenty of room to move around.
But still… leaving Fufu alone in the house, he felt a strange ache in his chest.
Fufu, on the other hand, took it all in stride. When he heard his brother had to go to work, he even said loudly, "Bye-bye, big brother!"
Though it was strange, after all these days, Fufu had come to understand—his brother was just like that, a bit of a loner who needed some time to himself every day before he'd play with him.
That was fine. He was an independent pup too. His brother played by himself, and he'd play by himself. When his brother was done and came back, they could play together again.
So Fufu said his goodbyes without a second thought. It was Hickson outside the door who couldn't let go, crouching at the doorway to give more instructions, then opening the door again to double-check everything before finally dragging himself away.
After his brother left, Fufu played with his toys for a while, then trotted over to the small tea table. There were two little dishes on it—snacks Hickson had prepared for him—with a few pieces of dried fruit. He picked out a few to eat.
Then he opened the early-learning app on the tablet and found his favorite episode, "Learning About Fruits," watching it with great interest. When it came time for the quiz questions, he randomly picked mango, strawberry, and so on, completing his study tasks for the day.
After that, he climbed onto the bed and took down all the plush toys lined up on the headboard—a kitten, a puppy, a little bunny—and arranged them on the carpet in order of size, then formed them into a circle around himself.
After he had played with them to his heart's content, he dug out his little bouncy ball from the basket. It was a very pretty ball, shaped like the Capital Star, made of a golden, translucent material with a faint rainbow sheen.
He tried tossing the ball. It hit the bedroom door, then rolled gently across the floor.
His brother wasn't there. No one was there to catch his ball.
Fufu pouted. He was starting to feel bored.
Fufu walked to the door, picked up the ball, and stared at the beautiful dark wooden door.
He placed his hand on the doorknob, but then remembered what his brother had said before leaving…
Fufu withdrew his hand. Though he didn't know why, if his brother told him not to go out, there must be a reason.
Fufu decided to listen to his brother.
But he was truly bored and had no idea what to play with. Fufu ran back to the carpet, flopped down on it, rolled around a few times, and scattered the plush toys every which way.
So boring…
He tilted his head back, and his gaze suddenly swept across the sky visible through the curtains.
Fufu paused mid-motion, quietly got up, jumped onto the sofa, and pulled open the curtains.
The castle's windows were tall and narrow, letting in the dim twilight outside.
His brother only said not to go out the door—he never said anything about going out the window, right?
Fufu thought it over carefully. Indeed, he hadn't.
Relieved, his mood instantly brightened. Fufu reached up for the window latch.
Tsk. Couldn't reach it.
Fufu thought for a moment, then stepped from the sofa armrest onto the back of the sofa, successfully grabbing the window latch.
However, before Fufu could even feel happy, the window pane in his hand wouldn't budge any further.
It turned out that the windows in the children's room had long been modified by Hickson into ventilation windows that could only be opened into a narrow slit, all to prevent the little cub from opening the window on his own and getting into danger.
Fufu was a bit annoyed. So narrow—what was he supposed to do with that?
But when he looked up, he noticed that the long, narrow gap widened from bottom to top, and the width at the top of the window… Fufu raised his hand and measured it against the gap, then couldn't help but smile.
The next second, with a "pop," he transformed into a tiny bat, flapped his wings a few times, slipped through the window gap, and flew unimpeded into the twilight.
But Fufu didn't fly too far. He could smell that there wasn't a single fruit tree nearby, and it was all dark and dreary—utterly boring.
He turned around and slipped back into the castle through another narrow window, weaving through the corridors.
His bat wings brushed against the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, producing a series of crisp clinks that were especially loud in the silent castle.
Fufu thought for a moment, then landed back on the floor and transformed back into a human cub.
Flying indoors was too easy to bump into things—walking was more convenient.
His brother's castle was truly spacious, with corridors and rooms as numerous as a maze.
Every wall was decorated with oil paintings and ornaments, and every few steps there were tall antique sculptures on display, making Fufu look tiny in comparison.
He first circled the great hall twice, then climbed the stairs, wanting to check the kitchen. He remembered his brother had put tomato juice there yesterday.
But just as he reached the second floor, Fufu suddenly caught a strange, enticing aroma wafting from the corridor on the other side of the stairs.
The smell was a bit like grape juice, yet seemed mixed with a hint of floral fragrance—more pleasant than grape juice, somewhat like the scent of the meat his brother had braised for him the other day… So fragrant…
Fufu immediately changed direction and followed the scent down another corridor.
Walking all the way to the end of the corridor, Fufu finally found the room where the fragrance was coming from.
That room was very special. Its door was a double-leafed deep black, carved with dark patterns, looking luxurious and solemn.
Fufu tried to push it, and the door panels slowly swung open with his movement, revealing a narrow gap. A rich grape fragrance rushed to meet him.
He had indeed found the right place.
Fufu smacked his lips and leaned in to peer through the gap.
The room was spacious, but the light was dim. The walls and floor all around were pure black, like a black hole absorbing the light source.
And what was most astonishing was that when Fufu looked up, he discovered the ceiling above was arched, adorned with densely packed stars made of some unknown material, all twinkling faintly and slowly rotating just like real celestial bodies in the sky.
"Wow…"
Fufu couldn't help but exclaim in amazement, but immediately covered his mouth—because he noticed that inside the room, under the dim lighting, a figure was reclining on the sofa, gazing absentmindedly at the starry sky above.
In the dimness, Fufu saw that the person had a head of white fur, and it was the father he had seen in the great hall earlier.