Muzan: My daughter can't be that weak!

Yukina woke up to a cool touch.

She opened her eyes groggily and found herself lying in an unfamiliar room.

She was sitting on a hard tatami mat, covered with a thin blanket. The night wind blew in, making her shiver.

An oil lamp was lit in the room, and in its dim light, a figure sat beside it.

Yukina blinked, her crimson pupils adjusting to the light in the dim light.

She recognized him; it was her father.

Muzan sat with his back to her at a low table, several scrolls of books laid out in front of him.

He kept his head down, his pale fingers flipping through the pages impatiently, then flipping back again, clearly not absorbing anything.

He had already noticed that the child behind him had woken up, but he still didn't turn around.

Yukina carefully sat up.

She felt lightheaded and weak, but the heavy, almost deathly feeling had disappeared. A strange taste lingered in her throat, faint and indescribable.

"Father……"

Xue Nai didn't know how to get along with her father. She spoke softly, afraid that she would be abandoned again.

The fingers that were turning the pages paused.

Muzan slowly turned his head, his red eyes looking at her under the light.

His face was expressionless, except for a slight furrow in his brow, as if he had been troubled by something for a long time.

Will Father still not like her? She will try her best not to get sick and not cause him any trouble...

Xue Nai felt a little nervous under his gaze, and she gripped the thin blanket tightly around her.

All she remembers now is that she was very sick, her father carried her out of that cold room, and then... her memory of what happened next is very blurry.

She remembers waking up occasionally with a strange taste in her mouth and her father's cold hand supporting the back of her neck.

"You're awake." Muzan's voice was calm.

He closed the book, stood up, and walked over to Xue Nai. The light shone from behind him, casting a shadow on his face.

Xue Nai looked up at him with her little face upturned.

My father looks different than before; his skin is whiter, and his eyes glow slightly in the dark.

But she wasn't afraid; this was her father, her father with the same color eyes as her.

She longed to hug her father...

"What do you think?" Muzan asked.

Yukina carefully examined herself. "It seems... much better," she said timidly, her voice still a little weak. "It's just... there's a strange taste in my mouth."

Muzan did not explain what the taste was.

He simply looked at her, a scrutinizing glint in his crimson eyes.

He has conducted many experiments in the past few days.

Most of those who drank his blood at once died from their bodies exploding. Only by receiving his blood in batches, little by little, could they possibly withstand it.

So these past few days, while Xue Nai was unconscious, he had fed her blood several times.

The amount was small, but enough for her body to begin to adapt.

This is the last time.

That was also the most ever.

Muzan crouched down, looking directly into Yukina's eyes. This movement brought him very close to her, close enough that Yukina could see the curve of his eyelashes.

"Xue Nai," he called her name softly, "Do you want to live?"

This was the first time her father had seen her name, and she was so happy. Did her father not hate her anymore...?

Yukina paused for a moment, her eyes sparkling.

Do you want to live?

My father seems to have asked me this question before.

In those hazy fragments of memory, she remembered answering.

She nodded vigorously, her slender fingers carefully grasping Muzan's sleeve.

"Yes." Her voice was soft, but firm. "I want to be with my father."

As she said this, her eyes were filled with dependence, like a newborn animal instinctively drawn to its only source of warmth.

Muzan looked into her eyes, into those plum-red pupils that were exactly the same as his own, and a surge of complex emotions welled up inside him again.

He thought of the defeated corpses, the flesh and blood fragments that had exploded and died.

The risk is very high.

But this child is his own flesh and blood.

And having already received blood transfusions several times, it should be able to…

"Take this," Muzan said, taking a porcelain bottle from his robes and handing it to Yukina, "and drink it."

Xue Nai took the porcelain bottle.

The porcelain bottle was cool to the touch, and inside was a dark red liquid that gleamed eerily under the light.

It smells weird.

But she was very obedient. She didn't ask what it was, nor did she hesitate. She simply tilted her head back and drank the liquid in the bottle in one gulp.

This time the quantity is much larger than before.

The moment the liquid slid down my throat, a searing pain exploded in my stomach.

Yukina groaned, and the porcelain bottle in her hand fell onto the tatami mat. She curled up, her small face contorted in pain.

it hurts.

It hurt more than any illness I've ever had before.

It felt like fire was burning in my veins, like something was tearing my body apart from the inside.

Am I going to die? But I've only just been with my father...

She didn't want to die...

Yukina bit her lip tightly, tears welling up uncontrollably, but she stubbornly refused to cry out loud.

Muzan stood aside, watching quietly.

He watched as Yukina curled up in pain, watched as eerie bluish-black lines appeared beneath her pale skin, and watched as her crimson eyes gradually lost focus.

This time, her reaction was much more intense than before.

Her small body convulsed on the tatami mat, her fingernails scratching her palms until blood seeped out. Broken sobs escaped her throat, like a wounded little animal.

Muzan's brows furrowed slightly.

Is that too much?

Or... she couldn't handle it?

This thought caused his fingers to unconsciously clench.

If she dies... if his bloodline dies right before his eyes.

That only means that the child was destined not to survive.

Yukina's breathing grew weaker and weaker, the spasms gradually stopped, and her body slumped limply on the tatami, like a puppet with its strings cut.

Muzan crouched down and reached out to check her breath.

It's weak, but it's still there.

He hesitated for a moment, then made a move that even surprised himself.

He reached out and gently brushed aside the sweat-dampened hair on Xue Nai's forehead.

The child's face still bore a pained expression, his brows furrowed, and his lips bitten until they bled.

But her breathing calmed down.

She survived.

Muzan withdrew his hand, a complex emotion flashing in his crimson eyes.

His bloodline can continue.

Finally, there is someone in this world just like him.

He stood up, ready to leave. Just then, a small hand gently grabbed the hem of his clothes.

Yukina was still asleep, her eyes tightly closed, but her hand unconsciously and tightly gripped his clothes, as if grasping at the only piece of driftwood.

Muzan looked down at the small hand for a long time.

Then he sat down again, letting the little hand hold onto the hem of his clothes.

The light from the oil lamp flickered slightly, illuminating his cold profile and the sleeping child on the tatami mat.

In the days that followed, Yukina remained unconscious.

She lay quietly on the tatami mat, her breathing shallow but steady, her face pale to the point of being almost transparent. If it weren't for the slight rise and fall of her chest, she would have looked like a delicate porcelain doll.

Muzan would feed her a little blood every few days. The amount was very small, just enough to keep her alive.

He tried to wake her, but she didn't respond. Only occasionally, in her sleep, would she unconsciously snuggle closer to him or grab his sleeve.

That unguarded dependence made Muzan feel... very strange.

He wasn't used to being approached or touched. But when Xue Nai did these things, it was unconsciously, like an instinct.

And he didn't push him away.

He simply let that little hand hold his sleeve, let that small body lean against his leg, and spent one long night after another in the dimly lit room.

Muzan continued searching through the books he had brought from the Ubuyashiki family, continuing his search for clues about the Blue Spider Lily.

Got nothing.

Whenever frustration welled up inside him, he would look down at Yukina lying beside him.

Looking at her peaceful sleeping face, and seeing her plum-red eyes, exactly like his, tightly closed, the violent emotions in his heart would calm down a little.

At least his bloodline is still there.

At least he's not the only one in the world.

This thought caused a tiny ripple to spread across his icy heart.

He reached out and gently touched Yukina's forehead.

It's still so cold.

The same temperature as him.

Muzan withdrew his hand, his crimson eyes silently gazing at the sleeping child in the dim light.

"Wake up quickly."

His voice was very soft, so soft that it was almost inaudible.

"Then... come with me."

"Live on."