Shang Xuci hired a housekeeping company to do a deep clean of his apartment. Steeling himself, he instructed the cleaning lady to throw out everything related to the cat.
Coincidentally, he had to go to school that day. By the time he got home, all traces of the cat’s presence would be gone from the air.
He placed a pothos plant he’d picked up along the way on the balcony, then carefully checked every corner of the house to make sure it had been thoroughly cleaned. Once he confirmed that not a single cat hair remained, Shang Xuci took a towel and headed to the bathroom.
After his shower, he sat on the couch and scrolled through his phone.
In his social feed, Shen Huan had posted a nine-grid collage of cat photos—various goofy and adorably ugly poses.
The next post was a daily life update from Xiao Yuan. The background was a cat. Her profile picture was also a cat. The last post before that had also featured her cat, from a week ago.
Putting down his phone, he picked up his tablet and opened a website. The opening wallpaper was—yet again—a cat. He clicked into his email to respond to messages, but accidentally tapped on an ad. The ad, too, featured a cat.
…Why was it all cats?!
Even the algorithm had started pushing cat content at him. All he had done was look up some information on cat care a few days ago.
But that wasn’t necessary anymore.
His life had finally returned to its normal, orderly rhythm.
Being alone was better.
Shang Xuci stood up and went to his study to get some work done. There was no longer a warm little heat source curled up by his feet, nor any ticklish cat tail brushing against him.
Yes.
His work efficiency would surely improve.
At ten in the evening, Shang Xuci lay in bed reading, but even as it neared midnight, he felt no drowsiness.
His eyes were starting to feel dry. He fetched a steam-heated eye mask, took a sleeping pill, turned off the lights, and tried to sleep.
The summer wind was stifling, and after the rain, the air had become even more humid.
Shang Xuci felt as though his body was unusually heavy, like something was pressing down on his chest.
A soft, childish sobbing sound echoed by his ear.
Behind tightly shut eyelids, his eyeballs shifted rapidly. His eyelashes trembled faintly as he struggled to open his eyes, trying to see who was crying.
The moment his eyes opened, for a few seconds he was fully alert. His gaze was cold. The instant he saw the dark silhouette of a person sitting on top of him, he swiftly grabbed the figure’s hand and reached out with the other to switch on the light.
The light should’ve been bright, but for some reason, it only cast a dim glow. Still, it was enough for him to see clearly the person crying on top of him.
It was a boy, about fifteen or sixteen years old, wearing nothing but an oversized white shirt. The loose garment couldn’t hide his slender, pale legs, which straddled Shang Xuci’s waist. Long black hair fell over the boy’s shoulders. As he looked up, his beautiful face made Shang Xuci momentarily dazed.
What made it hard for Shang Xuci to breathe was the pair of white, fluffy ears on top of the boy’s head. They drooped unhappily, matching the teary, glistening eyes—an image that struck with full visual force.
“Huu huu… I… I missed you so much, Shang Xuci. How could you be so heartless…”
The boy gripped his pajamas with both hands, sobbing bitterly.
“If you didn’t like the little kitty, then… then you shouldn’t have brought me home in the first place…”
Shang Xuci had never seen anyone cry so heartbreakingly in front of him.
He loosened his grip on the boy’s hand, stunned, and murmured, “You’re… the little white cat?”
The boy didn’t answer him. He just kept crying, tears falling like a string of pearls—more and more, faster and faster, heavier and heavier…
The bed was soaked. The blanket was soaked. The floor was soaked. Shang Xuci tried to sit up, only to realize he couldn’t move at all. Water was flooding the room, rising up to his body. A suffocating pressure pressed down on him.
His brows furrowed slightly as he suddenly opened his deep, dark eyes. On reflex, he looked down at the blanket.
There was no one there.
No cat, either.
His body was drenched in sweat.
He had actually dreamed that the cat turned into a human.
It was only 5 a.m., and Shang Xuci couldn’t fall back asleep. He went to the bathroom to take a shower.
For the next two days, he felt inexplicably irritable.
Then, two days later, he got a phone call from Xiao Yuan.
“Brother Shang Xuci, the little white cat isn’t doing so well.”
“Since you left, it hasn’t eaten a single bite of food. It only licked a little water and won’t come out of the cardboard box. It’s listless. I tried feeding it milk by hand, but it just threw it all up.”
Xiao Yuan sounded anxious. A few hours after Shang Xuci had left, she had tried giving the little white cat a name to build some affection. But the once-docile kitten seemed to have completely changed—it hissed at her, refused to be touched, and bristled at the slightest contact.
She chalked it up to a change in environment and continued spending time with the cat every day, trying to coax it out on a routine schedule. But no matter what, it wouldn’t leave the cardboard box.
At first, she thought the food and water she left in the bowls were gradually disappearing—until one day, she checked the surveillance footage and realized the white cat hadn’t eaten any of it. The ragdoll cat had been sneaking in and eating everything. No wonder the ragdoll’s own food bowl stayed nearly untouched.
Then this morning, she got up and tried feeding the white cat milk again—only for it to vomit up every drop. The bandage on its leg had come completely undone, and it wouldn’t let her come anywhere near…
“I don’t know why, but it just refuses to eat. It’s been over two days now, and I’m really worried. Could you… come take a look at it?”
Shang Xuci suddenly thought of that ridiculous dream. After a brief pause, he replied, “I’ll come right away.”
He didn’t bring anything. The pet carrier he’d used before had already been listed online for resale. Shang Xuci couldn’t describe how he felt—almost as if he had been waiting for this moment all along. In a rush, he drove straight to Xiao Yuan’s place.
Just like before, Xiao Yuan was waiting for him at the door. When she saw him, she began explaining all the changes the cat had gone through over the past two days. Shang Xuci’s thoughts were a tangled mess, but the moment he stepped through the door and neared the cat’s cage, his mind strangely began to calm down.
But the cat wasn’t in the cage.
Xiao Yuan pointed to a cardboard box in the corner and said, “It doesn’t like staying in the cage. The box makes it feel safer.”
Walking over, Shang Xuci crouched down beside the box, reached out his hand, and gently called: “Little white cat, will you come out?”
Jian Xun had recognized Shang Xuci the moment he started talking to Xiao Yuan, even though he was still overwhelmed with sadness and unable to pull himself out of it. His eyes widened, thinking for a second that he was hallucinating.
Once he was sure, he became even more frantic—both angry and happy at once. The moment the man called out to him, he burst out of the box and started furiously pounding him with little “meow-meow” punches. Catching the clean, familiar scent on the man’s fingers, he hugged them tightly and bit down—hard!
You big jerk!
Weren’t you the one who didn’t want me anymore?!
And now you come looking for your kitty again? I hate you!
Jian Xun meowed and whimpered, his mouth full of muttered complaints and scolding words, but his spirit was fully restored—nothing like the dejected, lifeless kitten from just a minute ago.
At five months old, the little white cat had already grown a set of sharp teeth. He bit down on Shang Xuci’s hand but didn’t use real force—it was just to vent his frustration and the pain of being abandoned.
“Meow!”
His soft, furry paws scratched against Shang Xuci’s bare skin. His pitiful little whimpers and those big, round, tear-glossed eyes looked exactly like the cat-boy from Shang Xuci’s dream that night—crying just as sadly.
Shang Xuci’s heart softened instantly, and he was well aware of it. He let the kitten bite him, and only after the white cat finally let go of his hand did he pick him up.
And in that moment, he felt a wave of emotion he had never experienced before—the kitten in his arms was incredibly soft and warm, throwing a fit like a spoiled child who had been waiting every day for his parent to come back and take him home.
He stared at the kitten’s fluffy head. After a brief hesitation, he gently pinched its little ear between his fingers.
“Don’t be mad.”
Jian Xun had been closely watching Shang Xuci’s attitude, and seeing how the man was clearly trying to make peace, he immediately relaxed his tense little body.
“Meow!” Jian Xun let out a soft hum, not resisting the man’s touch.
The kitten gave him one last dramatic thump with his paw.
Then he buried his head in Shang Xuci’s chest, rubbing gently. He reached out with a paw pad and pressed it solemnly to Shang Xuci’s chin.
Meow meow meow.
Don’t lose me again!
Over the past two days, Jian Xun had come to understand that forcing someone who didn’t like cats to raise one was, in fact, unreasonable. He sympathized with Shang Xuci—the man was already in poor health and had to deal with all sorts of chaotic and ridiculous plotlines. He had no energy left to care for a cat, and finding a good home for Jian Xun had been an act of kindness.
But heaven knew how devastated Jian Xun had been when Shang Xuci abandoned him. The grief had crashed over him like a tidal wave, burying him completely.
Still, what Shang Xuci didn’t know was that he had been sent to save him. Even if he was just a little cat, he wasn’t like the others—he wasn’t spoiled or fragile!
This was only the beginning. He hadn’t even had a chance to show off what he could do yet!
Jian Xun had already made up his mind: once he had cried it all out and pulled himself together, he was going to break out. He would go back and find Shang Xuci!
Even if Shang Xuci didn’t want him, he could still be a free-roaming stray cat and figure out how to complete his mission on his own.
Hmph… but now their intimacy level was gone.
Xiao Yuan covered her mouth, moved. She had thought the kitten might be unwell or that she had done something wrong, which was why it had been so lethargic. But seeing the way it became overjoyed the moment Shang Xuci appeared, she finally understood—the little cat had already given its heart to someone.
She asked tentatively, “Brother, are you going to take the kitten back home? It looks really happy to see you.”
The unspoken message was: this little cat has chosen you.
“Yes, I’ll take it home,” Shang Xuci replied firmly.
He hadn’t even realized it himself, but in just those few days, the little kitten had already left a mark on his heart.
He would overcome the challenges and become a qualified cat owner.
With that definite answer, Xiao Yuan broke into a happy smile. She handed him a cat carrier and patted Jian Xun’s head.
“I’m glad you’re back with your owner. Make sure to eat properly from now on, okay?”
“Meow.”
Jian Xun rubbed his head against her palm.
You’re a good person.
Shang Xuci thanked Xiao Yuan for taking care of the kitten and gave her a limited-edition shopping card from a high-end jewelry store. She grinned as she saw the two of them off.
Shang Xuci opened the carrier, and Jian Xun obediently crawled inside. Xiao Yuan even tucked two toy balls in with him.
And just like that, Jian Xun was brought back home by Shang Xuci once again. He didn’t know exactly why the man had changed his mind—but surely, he wouldn’t abandon him again, right?
By the time they arrived, the little white cat was curled up inside the carrier, fast asleep.
When he heard the sound of the door opening, Jian Xun opened his eyes. As soon as the carrier unzipped, he bolted out with his injured leg and rushed straight into the house—straight back to his territory.
Cardboard box, I’m back!
Little button toy, I’m back!
Shang Xuci tiene mucho que explicar a este pequeño gato
Oh boy, now how is Shang Xuci going to explain he threw it all away?