Emma's aunt was seeing her out when Tommy's words made her pause. She shot him a glare.
"Don't talk nonsense. Since when does your Aunt Zhang's family keep a leopard?"
"It's true," Tommy insisted. "Bob's uncle caught a leopard cub from the countryside. He brought it here just yesterday for Bob to play with. Bob's hand was bitten earlier, it was bleeding…"
This matter had nothing to do with Emma, so she turned to leave through the open door. Still, a leopard cub was a rare sight, and she couldn't help but glance at the room across the hall. The door stood ajar, and by it was a rural-looking iron cage. Inside crouched a creature black as ink, its round ears tipped faintly with gold, resembling a great black cat—but its gaze was far fiercer.
The half-grown leopard had all four paws clamped against the cage bars, body pressed low, eyes burning with hostility as it stared down the little boy opposite. Emma found herself drawn closer, unsettled by its presence.
Up close, she saw the cub was injured: scars riddled its dark coat, fresh blood dotted the floor, its whiskers had been scorched away, and even its once-proud golden ears were charred black at the edges.
Bob, the boy Tommy mentioned, bore fresh claw marks across the back of his hand. Still, he had fetched a steel sewing needle and now, with vicious determination, jabbed it again and again through the bars. The needle pierced the cub's belly more than once, blood staining its tip.
Yet the leopard never cried out. It only arched its body taut as a bowstring, eyes locked on Bob. Each time his hand neared the cage, a paw lashed upward with lightning speed—its hooked claws gleaming, sharp enough to peel flesh from bone.
By then, Tommy had tugged Emma's aunt into the hallway. From below came hurried footsteps. A woman rushed up, found her own door wide open, and stormed inside. At the sight of Bob's bloodied hand, her voice rang out sharp and furious:
"You damned brat! All you do is torment cats every day. Sink your teeth in harder, will you? Are you trying to kill yourself?"
She seized him by the arm and pinched him hard.
Bob burst into tears, his wails echoing down the stairwell. Emma's uncle and aunt hurried forward to intervene, and the corridor erupted into chaos. Emma only saw the iron cage shoved aside by the furious woman's kick, sending the cub tumbling headlong within.
It scrambled up without a sound, but its eyes blazed with vengeance. Fangs and claws tore furiously at the bars, as if the cage itself were its mortal enemy.
Emma lingered only a moment more before slipping away, not wishing to be caught in the uproar.
***
Back in her own room, she opened her palm to study the tiny walnut nestled there. From its core, a young green sapling sprouted—a half foot tall already. She frowned.
How could such a small walnut still contain it? When there had only been two tender leaves, it made sense, but now the roots still clung within the walnut's shell despite their growth. Surely it should be too cramped.
Curiosity pricked at her. Her mind reached inward—and froze.
Inside the half walnut lay a vast space, impossibly large, like the interior of a building five stories high. Only the sapling's roots clung to the walls of the shell, leaving the rest empty.
The revelation shook her almost as much as the day she had first discovered the sapling itself. That had taken her a month to accept. Now, within half a day, she steadied her breath and explored further.
She tried the other half of the walnut as well. The same: a boundless space lay within.
A thought struck her, absurd yet undeniable—could this be like those "portable spaces" from the novels she used to read?
She tested it, placing objects inside, pulling them out again, over and over. At last her lips curved into an unrestrained grin.
In the wasteland world she remembered, she had survived years of terror and hunger, numb to both hope and joy. Now, for the first time in ages, she felt wild exultation.
Clenching her fist tight around the walnut, she forced herself to calm down. More than houses or land, what mattered in the end was food. She had endured starvation too long—seen people fight to the death over a moldy crust of bread.
And now… she had a space no one else could reach. A place to store supplies, safe from looters, safe from destruction.