Chapter 48 – Longing
Meiqiu withdrew the mouth that had been hissing just moments ago. The fierce expression on its face faded, replaced by a dazed look. It paused for a while, as if unable to understand why the person had said such words, while the man across from it stared back with unwavering certainty.
Meiqiu pulled back the claws that had been scratching at the door, then ran back to its own room and transformed back into a human.
He opened the wardrobe and searched from top to bottom. He came here from time to time to change clothes, so most of what hung inside were outfits he usually wore.
Soon, he found a set of loungewear and put it on. When he stepped out again, he had become Lu Heng.
“Mom… you knew?” Lu Heng walked out and looked at Ding Yue. After hesitating for a brief moment, he finally spoke.
To be honest, Lu Heng had always been confused about his sudden ability to turn into a cat. At first, he truly believed it was caused by staying up too late—some gene of his had been overstimulated and triggered the transformation.
He had even considered getting a genetic test to examine his condition, but in the end, he never went.
At his position, there were too many pressing matters—his company’s reputation, its future development, employee benefits, and countless responsibilities.
Yet none of them were for himself.
So he didn’t dare go. He was afraid of attracting attention, afraid of leaving behind evidence that could destroy the company.
Since turning into a cat didn’t affect his basic daily life, he endured it. That was what he thought at the beginning.
But after he discovered that he could freely switch between human and cat, he realized he had begun to crave Lin Yan’s home—crave Lin Yan’s embrace.
From initially accepting the fact that he could turn into a cat, to later transforming voluntarily, all just to stay by that person’s side.
Perhaps those thoughts could be considered doing something for himself.
When he saw that piece of yellow crystal at the office doorway, he had vaguely sensed something was wrong. From that moment on, he realized his mother must have known long ago that he could turn into a cat—and that she had been staying at Lin Yan’s place the whole time.
“Lu Heng,” Ding Yue said softly, “I just didn’t expect that you would also become a cat.”
Also?
Lu Heng frowned slightly, unable to grasp the logic behind her words.
“Besides me… who else?” he asked uncertainly.
Yet at that moment, he also understood—if this wasn’t something that ran in the family, no amount of mutation could have caused him to suddenly turn into a cat.
“Your father,” Ding Yue said, her voice carrying a hint of panic, along with deep sorrow.
So everyone in his family had this ability… except he had never known?
Lu Heng stood where he was, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of his clothes. His mother’s words struck him like a heavy hammer, shattering the image of his father that he had held onto for years.
“Your father…” Ding Yue’s voice carried a distant sadness. “He was just like you.”
The ceiling light slanted down, casting a long shadow at Lu Heng’s feet. He suddenly recalled his childhood—how his father had never allowed him to open a certain cabinet in the study. Now that he thought about it, perhaps it had contained the necessities he needed after turning into a cat.
“How did he…” Lu Heng’s voice was eerily calm, surprising even himself.
Ding Yue walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a small glass of whiskey. “Honestly, I didn’t know either—until the day he passed away.”
In Lu Heng’s memory, ever since he was old enough to understand things, his father had always been away on business, and from time to time would simply disappear for long periods.
That couldn’t help but make him wonder.
Now, he was able to control his transformation into a cat. If his father used to vanish so often, did that mean back then, his father hadn’t been able to fully control his own transformations?
“When he died…” Ding Yue set the glass down and spoke slowly. “He was in the form of a cat. I’ve always felt that your father’s death wasn’t an accident—but the facts were right there, and I had no evidence to prove otherwise.”
Ding Yue hadn’t meant to hide these things from him. She had simply felt that the burden on Lu Heng’s shoulders was already too heavy, and thought she would tell him after this period passed. After all, this wasn’t something honorable to speak of.
Not long ago, she discovered that Lu Heng could also turn into a cat. Fearing that something might happen to him while transformed, she secretly decided to follow him.
Only after meeting Lin Yan did that worry finally fade—because deep down, she believed Lin Yan would take good care of her son.
Lu Heng’s back stiffened slightly.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked. There was no accusation in his voice—only weary understanding.
“I made that decision on my own,” Ding Yue sighed, forcing a bitter smile. “After all, the fewer people who know about something like this, the better. But now it seems… heredity is stronger than anything else.”
Lu Heng walked to the window and gazed out at the bustling cityscape beyond.
When he was young, his father had always been strict about emotional control. Looking back now, it hadn’t merely been character training—perhaps it was meant to prevent him from transforming by accident.
Those times he had been confined as punishment had once filled him with resentment toward his father. Yet now, they seemed to carry an entirely new explanation.
If this could explain everything in the past, then what about the pain he had endured?
That pain was real.
He—alive and breathing—had never once lived for himself.
From childhood, he had been raised as an heir, restrained by leather straps, bound by ropes.
Could all of that be forgiven with a single sentence—because they were afraid he would turn into a cat too?
No.
That wasn’t how it worked.
He couldn’t truly let it go. These memories had followed him through countless nights.
“Your father had his reasons,” Ding Yue said, as if reading his thoughts. “Blame me—blame me for not being by your side to protect you. What he did back then was the reason you never transformed into a cat.”
Lu Heng remained silent. That explanation did not fully erase the shadows of his childhood.
The helplessness and decisions of adults—he hadn’t understood them back then, and now he didn’t want to.
He had never experienced the warmth of a home growing up. When he counted the moments that had ever made him feel warm, there were pitifully few.
Ah—no, now there was one. At Lin Yan’s home. That was the only place where he could feel warmth.
To relax freely, to run around without restraint, and then lie in Lin Yan’s arms.
“Then…” He turned to face his mother. “You’re telling me all this now because…?”
“Because I’m afraid,” Ding Yue said as she walked up to her son. “Afraid that you’ll be taken away by others just like your father was—and end up lying in front of me the same way he did, barely clinging to life.”
Lu Heng denied it instinctively. “I won’t be like him. Lin Yan isn’t that kind of person.”
Ding Yue knew very well that Lin Yan wasn’t like that. But what she was doing now was meant to make Lu Heng see his own heart clearly.
Earlier, she had noticed that Lu Heng was still staying by Lin Yan’s side in the form of a cat. She didn’t know what had gone wrong. The son who had never hesitated when facing problems had somehow become stuck.
Taking advantage of Doctor Liu’s return to the country, she consulted him carefully about what to do. At that time, Doctor Liu had said that in intimate relationships, Lu Heng tended to avoid confrontation and might not even face his own feelings directly.
Looking at it now, wasn’t maintaining the status quo simply another form of avoidance?
As his mother, she wanted to help her son find happiness.
“Lu Heng, I know. But I don’t want to lose you again. Of course I know Lin Yan isn’t that kind of person.” Ding Yue gently patted his cheek. “But are you really going to stay by his side like this forever? If he knew you were the cat, do you think he could accept it? Didn’t you move here precisely to make it easier for yourself to transform?”
The string of questions left Lu Heng with nowhere to hide.
He had thought about telling Lin Yan directly—but could Lin Yan accept something like this? Would he suddenly become afraid of him? Would he run away from him?
The uncertainty in his heart only grew deeper. Perhaps he hadn’t realized that Lin Yan had already taken root far too deeply within him—so deeply that there was no way to tear him out.
Lu Heng had never imagined that the word courage would one day become his greatest obstacle.
At work, he could calmly make decisions worth billions, and when facing aggressive competitors, he never once retreated.
But when it came to Lin Yan, he became cautious—overly so.
What exactly was he afraid of?
“I think… I like him. Mom, I like him.” Lu Heng finally admitted it, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.
Only the two of them stood facing each other in the room. Even such a quiet voice, separated by some distance, still reached Ding Yue’s ears clearly.
In that instant, Ding Yue smiled. Fine lines formed at the corners of her eyes as genuine joy welled up within her. She understood—her son needed someone by his side.
At first, she thought that someone should be herself. But a mother’s companionship could never compare to that of a lover’s. She hoped Lu Heng could set down his burdens and truly accept the feelings buried deep in his heart.
Ding Yue smiled with relief. “Then go and tell him.”
Lu Heng didn’t answer. He remained silent for a long time.
“Mom… will I lose control?” he asked quietly. “Right now, I can control when I turn into a cat or a human. But what if one day I can’t? What if I hurt someone? I’d become his burden.” His voice dropped even lower. “And besides… the one Lin Yan likes is Meiqiu, not me.”
That was what hurt him the most.
When he was Meiqiu, Lin Yan would hold him close, kiss him, and gently call him baby. But when he was Lu Heng, all Lin Yan gave him was distance—and a kind of restrained respect.
Ding Yue sat beside her son and gently took his hand. “But have you ever thought about this?” she said softly. “Maybe the feelings Lin Yan has for Meiqiu are actually his acceptance of your truest self.”
Lu Heng didn’t respond, but something deep inside him quietly wavered.
…
Lin Yan was sitting at his workstation, staring absentmindedly at the computer screen. The joy of receiving his bonus had long been replaced by the pain of losing Meiqiu.
Hadn’t they agreed it was just for one night?
Why hadn’t there been any contact since then? He couldn’t bring himself to ask—it wouldn’t be appropriate. After all, that cat had only stayed in his home for a short while.
It couldn’t truly be considered his.
He flipped through the photos of Meiqiu on his phone again and again. He remembered the story behind every single one.
He stopped at a photo from when Meiqiu first came to his home. Back then, the cat had begged him for canned food, only to end up in the hospital after accidentally overeating.
If Meiqiu really was President Lu’s cat, then it must be living without worry now—food, shelter, everything would be far better than what he could provide.
Going back might not be a bad thing.
Still, he missed Meiqiu terribly—missed the way it would race around the house, missed how it waited for him by the door.
Suddenly, his chest felt hollow, emptier than it had ever felt after losing anything or anyone before.
He stared blankly at the screen. Now he had everything—his job was going smoothly—yet he had lost Meiqiu alone.
Thinking about it more carefully, even love hadn’t gone well. The big boss seemed to have disappeared along with Meiqiu, no longer drawing close to him like before.
Had his good luck been taken back?
“Brother Yan, President Lu was looking for you just now.” His colleague, Yang Yang, knocked lightly on the partition. “He asked you to go to his office.”
Lin Yan snapped back to his senses. “Now?”
“Yeah. It was when you weren’t here just now.”
Lin Yan glanced at his phone. There were no missed calls. After hesitating for a moment, he stood up and walked toward the CEO’s office.
Secretary He wasn’t in the outer office. Lin Yan gently knocked on the door, and a low voice came from inside.
“Come in.”
Lu Heng was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window with his back to the door. Lin Yan noticed that he wasn’t wearing a formal suit today, but a simple gray sweater instead, making him look much gentler than usual.
“President Lu, you were looking for me?”
Lu Heng turned around and looked at him with a complicated expression.
“Sit.”
Lin Yan sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, waiting for Lu Heng to speak. But Lu Heng only watched him in silence. That gaze reminded Lin Yan of how Meiqiu used to stare intently at its toys.
“Is… something the matter?” Lin Yan finally asked.
Lu Heng seemed to steel himself and took a deep breath. “I heard that the cat at your place was the one my mother took away?”
Lin Yan nodded without speaking, his gaze lowered. Just hearing Meiqiu’s name made his chest ache.
Meiqiu no longer belonged to him.
Seeing the disappointment on Lin Yan’s face, Lu Heng felt a pang of guilt, yet he didn’t know what to do.
Perhaps what his mother had done was right after all. At the very least, it gave Lu Heng a reason to avoid things.
His fingers tapped unconsciously against the tabletop. “If you miss the cat, you can go to my place to see it.”
“I want to see him every day,” Lin Yan said with a bitter smile. “Is that possible?”
Those words made Lu Heng’s eyes light up for a moment, but the brightness quickly faded. He spoke again as if talking to himself.
“If… I mean, if it weren’t an ordinary cat, what would you do?”
Lin Yan frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Lu Heng seemed to realize he had said something he shouldn’t have and hurriedly changed the subject.
“Nothing. I just mean—some cats are especially smart, almost like humans.”
Lin Yan smiled. “Meiqiu really is smart to an unreasonable degree. He can open doors and even understands what I say.”
The atmosphere grew slightly lighter, yet Lu Heng still didn’t explain the real reason he had called Lin Yan over.
Whenever he looked at Lin Yan, he restrained himself, as though the feelings hidden in his heart could never be revealed.
All he could do was keep everything buried, waiting for Lin Yan to fully accept the fact that Meiqiu was no longer living in his home.
Perhaps this should have happened long ago.
A few minutes later, Lu Heng used an upcoming meeting as an excuse and sent Lin Yan away.
Back at his workstation, Lin Yan felt an inexplicable sense of loss.
He had originally expected Lu Heng to discuss something else—perhaps a new project or work arrangements—but instead, they had only shared a strange, meaningless conversation.
“Brother Yan, what did President Lu want with you?” Yang Yang asked curiously.
“Nothing much. Just talked about some upcoming project arrangements,” Lin Yan lied.
For some reason, he didn’t want to share what they had actually discussed. To make his words sound more believable, he added, “I saw a fingerprint lock project in his office. We’re going to work on fingerprint locks.”
“Fingerprint locks?” Wang Hao looked puzzled. “That kind of project usually isn’t handled by our department. We’re doing it?”
Looking at his colleagues, Lin Yan finally pulled himself out of his earlier emotions. He was the department director now—he shouldn’t let too many personal matters affect him.
He needed to focus on work.
Feeling guilty yet stubbornly pressing on, Lin Yan explained, “Yeah. Who knows what the big boss is thinking?”
In truth, Lin Yan no longer knew what Lu Heng was thinking either. In just a moment, it felt as though Lu Heng no longer looked at him with the same gentleness as before—speaking strange, inexplicable words and deliberately avoiding his gaze.
After work, Lin Yan didn’t join his colleagues for dinner. Instead, he went straight home.
The apartment felt empty. Without Meiqiu waiting to greet him, the place seemed especially cold and quiet.
He turned on the lights and tossed his keys into the tray by the entrance. A small cat-paw pattern was engraved on it—one of the matching items he had bought for Meiqiu.
“Meiqiu… will you come back?” Lin Yan murmured to the empty room.
Over the next few days, Lin Yan lived a monotonous, two-point routine.
Work, home, then sleep.
It felt as though his soul had been hollowed out, leaving him to drag his body through each day. He slept poorly—very poorly. He wasn’t used to it at all. Before, he used to hold Meiqiu while sleeping, but now the warm, fluffy presence was gone. How was he supposed to adjust?
Every day felt far more exhausting than before.
After enduring it for several days, he finally wore himself down completely.
At the company, Lu Heng continued to deliberately avoid him. Twice they ran into each other in the hallway—Lu Heng merely nodded in greeting, didn’t look at him, didn’t speak, and then hurried away.
It was as if everything had suddenly returned to how it had been at the beginning. After Meiqiu left, Lin Yan’s life once again became calm.
Like a dream.
Once he woke up, everything he had gained was taken back.
The change left Lin Yan confused. He realized that not only did he miss Meiqiu—he had also begun to think carefully about every one of Lu Heng’s actions.
Was he deliberately keeping his distance? Or was he reminding Lin Yan that everything before had merely been the attitude of a boss toward an employee?
On Friday afternoon, Lin Yan finally couldn’t take it anymore and asked for half a day off. He truly had no energy to work. His body felt feverish, and his mind wouldn’t function properly. He decided to go home and rest.
When he returned, the apartment was silent. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the floor. Lin Yan kicked off his shoes and collapsed directly onto the sofa, closing his eyes.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, a faint buzzing sound suddenly rang out.
“Hello,” Lin Yan answered the phone, his voice soft and lifeless, devoid of energy.
When Lu Heng learned that Lin Yan wasn’t in the office, he asked the people nearby and found out he had taken leave and gone home. He sat in his office for a long time, thinking, before finally deciding to call him.
It was only right to check on him.
“Do you want to go see the cat? My mom happens to be out,” Lu Heng blurted out as soon as the call connected.
It was as if he was afraid of sensing a change in Lin Yan’s attitude—afraid he wouldn’t be able to bear it—so the moment the call went through, he rushed all the words out in one breath.
He didn’t receive an answer, only a weak, faint “hello” on the other end.
Lu Heng immediately sat upright. Worry surged through him, but he forced himself to suppress his emotions so the other person wouldn’t notice.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I… want…”
The broken, intermittent sound made it impossible to tell whether it was a signal issue or a problem with the phone itself. Lu Heng couldn’t hear clearly.
There was no time to think further. He grabbed his coat and rushed straight to Lin Yan’s place.
All the way there, Lu Heng’s brows remained tightly furrowed. When he arrived, he hurriedly unlocked the door to Lin Yan’s apartment.
Stepping inside, he saw Lin Yan sprawled on the sofa, both arms limp at his sides. The phone had slipped to the other end, and his eyes were closed—he looked extremely weak.
“Lin Yan.” Lu Heng sat down beside him and gently shook him.
The movement roused Lin Yan. He opened his eyes slowly, his gaze shifting from unfocused to barely clear. When he recognized the person in front of him, he spoke uncertainly, “President Lu…?”
His mind was muddled, and he didn’t even think about why President Lu was in his home.
Had he failed to close the door properly after coming in?
All he knew was that his head was spinning badly.
Perhaps the exhaustion of the past few days had weakened his resistance too much. Unable to hold on any longer, he had fallen ill.
Lu Heng pressed his forehead against Lin Yan’s. Feeling the much higher temperature, he pulled back immediately and decided to take him to the hospital.
Lin Yan parted his lips slightly. In his hazy vision, he saw the anxious look on Lu Heng’s face.
Was he… worried about him?
“I’m taking you to the hospital.” Lu Heng lifted Lin Yan’s arm and hooked it around his own neck, preparing to pick him up.
But Lin Yan unconsciously pulled downward with a weak force. Lu Heng lost his balance, his foot slipping, and the two of them fell together—Lu Heng ending up on top of him.
His head buried itself in the hollow of Lin Yan’s neck. It was hot there too.
Lu Heng lifted his head. At such close distance, he could finally see clearly how bad Lin Yan’s condition was.
His skin had lost its usual clarity, turning sallow instead—clear signs of severe lack of rest.
A wave of guilt surged from deep within Lu Heng’s chest. He felt the hot breath escaping Lin Yan’s lips. This couldn’t continue—he was determined to take him to the hospital.
“President Lu… I… just need to take… some medicine,” Lin Yan said with difficulty, forcing the words out. “It’s… in the cabinet.”
Seeing that he couldn’t argue with him, Lu Heng had no choice but to comply.
Before Lin Yan could even finish a full sentence, Lu Heng had already found the medicine with practiced ease and naturally walked to the kettle to boil water.
A few minutes later, Lu Heng returned with a cup of water and the medicine. He first helped Lin Yan sit up.
Lin Yan’s body felt boneless. Earlier, he had still been able to walk, yet now—he didn’t know what had come over him—his strength had completely drained away. He leaned entirely into Lu Heng’s arms.
That familiar scent reached him again.
Collapsing into this person’s embrace—though he could clearly remember this happening only once—why did it feel so familiar?
As if, long ago, he had already stayed in this man’s arms for a very, very long time.
Lu Heng placed the medicine at Lin Yan’s lips, patiently feeding it to him the way Lin Yan had once done for him. His eyes stayed fixed on Lin Yan’s mouth, and only after seeing him swallow did he lift the warm water and coax him to drink.
The medicine was taken. The water was drunk. Yet Lin Yan was still terribly weak.
Lu Heng held him even tighter. “Once you’ve taken the medicine, you’ll be fine.”
Lin Yan mumbled incoherently, unable to form a complete sentence. Lu Heng scooped him up in a princess carry, carried him to the bed, and gently tucked him in.
When his hand brushed against the familiar mattress, Lu Heng recalled the feeling of lying on this bed. Even though he wanted to lie down as well, he couldn’t.
Seeing Lin Yan like this made his chest ache painfully.
What was he hesitating over? What was he afraid of?
Perhaps he still hadn’t fully figured it out. Even though he already understood his own feelings, he could only act like a child who had done something wrong—quietly fleeing from this apartment.
Lin Yan slept deeply through the night. When he opened his eyes again, he was awakened by the low hum of a machine.
The sound was oddly familiar—like the sweeping-and-mopping noise of a robotic vacuum, softly rolling over the floor.
He lifted his gaze and was surprised to see that the robot vacuum in the corner of the living room had somehow turned itself on and was slowly moving along the wall—heading beneath his bed.
“That’s strange. When did I schedule it to clean at this time?” Lin Yan muttered to himself as he sat up, reaching for his phone.
He had taken another half day off today. Before falling asleep last night, he had worried that after taking medicine he might not wake up in time, so after some thought, he had decided to request leave.
He couldn’t skip work without reason—especially not now that he had just become a department director. That would be a bad habit.
He reached toward the side of his pillow but felt nothing. Propping himself up, he saw that his phone had been placed neatly on the bedside table.
Once he was fully awake, he remembered—Lu Heng had come to take care of him yesterday. He remembered everything.
Still, he didn’t understand what was going on with Lu Heng. He didn’t want to guess, either—he couldn’t figure it out, and it only unsettled his heart.
Picking up his phone, Lin Yan opened the robot vacuum’s control app. He hadn’t touched it in a long time. He always felt that his apartment was very clean and rarely needed tidying.
Thinking about it now, it was rather strange. He really had been vacuuming and mopping far less than before. Logically speaking, after getting a pet, he should have been cleaning more often.
Yet in his memory, his home always felt clean—so clean that there seemed to be no need to tidy up.
In the past, he only cleaned when he could actually see dirt. If he hadn’t cleaned, it meant the floor wasn’t dirty—no need to waste energy.
After opening the app, it took a long while to load before the control interface finally appeared.
The robot vacuum automatically updated and generated maps. Lin Yan tapped it open and saw the area currently being cleaned. He zoomed in.
This spot… where was it?
He stared for a while—wasn’t this his bed?
Then why was there a shadow underneath it? What was that? He had never seen anything there before.
Driven by curiosity, Lin Yan got out of bed and looked down.
The little machine slid precisely to the edge of the bed, then stopped, emitting a series of beeping sounds.
Suddenly, he remembered—hadn’t Meiqiu liked hiding things all the way underneath before?
He knelt down, lifted the bed sheet, and looked beneath the bed.
In the darkness, a box reflected a faint glimmer of light. Lin Yan reached in and pulled it out, discovering that it was a storage box—and it was filled with items.
He stared at it in confusion. Why was there an extra box under his bed, and why was it full of things?
No matter how much Meiqiu liked hiding objects, there was no way it could have dragged an entire storage box under the bed.
“This isn’t mine,” Lin Yan murmured, studying the box with confusion.
After opening it, he found several everyday items inside. Piece by piece, he began to sort through them.
There were a few shirts. He touched them, rubbing the fabric between his fingers, carefully feeling the texture.
He hadn’t handled many kinds of fabric before, but judging from his experience with his own clothes, these didn’t feel cheap.
And he didn’t own shirts like these.
Lifting the clothes aside, he discovered a phone hidden underneath. He picked it up and tried to turn it on, but it wouldn’t respond—the battery was dead.
Could these things have been left behind by the landlord?
He frowned. He didn’t know how long they had been stored here, but they had never appeared before.
It would be better to ask the landlord. If the items belonged to them and they came looking for them later, it would be troublesome.
He took photos and sent them to the landlord. When no reply came, Lin Yan decided to charge the phone first. If it had been left uncharged for too long and ended up broken, that would be his problem.
He couldn’t exactly compensate the landlord with a new phone.
After plugging in the charger, he confirmed that the phone was still able to charge—thankfully. He then set it aside.
Today, he felt much better than before. Over the past few days, Lin Yan had felt as though he were drowning in sadness. Now, he finally had some energy again.
But the moment his eyes landed on the cat bowl nearby, the strength he had just gathered drained away once more.
Then, the phone beside him rang.
Instinctively, Lin Yan checked his own phone. When he realized it wasn’t his, his gaze shifted to the phone that had just been charging.
The continuous vibration drew his attention. When he picked it up, he saw an unfamiliar number. After hesitating for a moment, he decided to answer—it might help him figure out who the owner was.
As soon as he picked up, a familiar voice came from the other end.
Lin Yan recognized it immediately. It was Secretary He’s voice.
“President Lu.”
Lin Yan didn’t speak. He waited for the person on the other end to continue.
At that moment, the phone in his hand chimed again. He glanced down—it was a reply from the landlord.
Landlord: [It’s not mine.]
Lin Yan lifted his eyes.
From the phone he was holding, the voice sounded once more: “President Lu?”
Author’s Note:
President Lu, you’d better be careful—your wife has discovered it now 👀