Who Needs a Relationship When You Have a Cat?

Chapter 15

At exactly three in the afternoon, Ai Qing still hadn’t seen Xiao Yu change back into a human.

By four he finally gave up.

The Xiao Yu who’d been ricocheting around the living-room was scooped up and deposited in the pet-carrier.

“Meow?”

“I’m taking you home for the night,” Ai Qing told her through the grille. “Be good, okay? Try not to shift. If you absolutely have to, stay in my bedroom and don’t make a sound.”

She probably understood none of it, but he repeated the warning anyway.

“One can of food should do; nothing else.” He glanced around. “And my laptop—still have chapters to write tomorrow.”

Litter box, kibble—everything was already at the house; no need to lug it along.

Bag over one shoulder, carrier in hand, shoes swapped, he headed out.

......

North gate of Jinpan Yunting Residence, 4:15 p.m.

Ai Qing exited the complex, but instead of crossing straight to the south side he turned right for a quick look at Qianxin Pet Hospital.

The clinic was shuttered; after four, Dr. Xiao Youqian was clearly off-duty.

He shelved the idea of saying hello and crossed the street.

His parents and grandparents lived in Building 2 on the south side—first and second floors.

The ground-floor unit by the gate had been converted into a mini-mart that opened directly into Grandpa and Grandma’s place: “Aiying Supermarket,” manned today—as always—by Grandpa Ai Lisong.

“First time we met, your opening line~”

“No rehearsal, yet cute by design~”

“Evening breeze......”

“Grandpa!”

The TikTok ear-worm was throttled mid-note.

Inside the shop, Grandpa—tufts of silver hair peeking over reading glasses—sat with a cigarette clamped between his lips, poring over a newspaper that was upside-down.

“It’s me. Relax—you’re reading the paper backwards.” Ai Qing flipped it right-side up, revealing the phone hidden beneath. “Where’s Grandma?”

“A-hem.” Grandpa slid the paper aside, restarted TikTok on mute. “Back, are you? She’s cooking.”

“Got it.” Ai Qing set the carrier down, fished a Xiao Pudding popsicle from the freezer, and leaned on the counter. “Addictive, right? Told you you’d love it.”

“Cheeky brat. Found a girlfriend yet? Bring one home sometime.”

Ai Qing rolled his eyes, sucked on the popsicle, then hoisted the carrier onto the counter with a grin. “Brought her—say hi, Xiao Yu.”

“Meow~”

Xiao Yu obliged, pressing a furry forehead to the bars.

“Shoo, shoo—take that thing away.” Grandpa waved dismissively; a childhood run-in with a feral cat had left him feline-averse. “I’ve got a shop to mind. Go inside.”

“I’ll play chess with you later.”

“No time.”

“Fine—want me to forward you some pretty girls?”

“Not my type.” The words slipped out before Grandpa caught himself. “Beat it, pest.”

“They’re not cute?”

“Babies barely out of diapers—what’s cute about that? Your grandma was prettier at twenty.”

Ai Qing smacked his tongue—served a vintage mouthful of PDA.

Popsicle finished, he scooped the carrier and slipped through the back door.

Stockroom first, then another door—and he was inside Grandpa and Grandma’s rear hall.

The wall hadn’t existed when they bought the unit; after haggling with property management they’d punched the doorway through for easy access.

“Grandma!”

“Right here!”

The answer rang from the kitchen.

Ai Qing padded over, carrier swaying.

Grandma Lang Xiangying turned, beaming.

Where Grandpa’s hair had thinned, hers flourished—neat silver waves, bright eyes.

“Oh, Xiao Yu’s home too?”

She tickled Xiao Yu’s chin through the bars. “Miss Grandma, hmm?”

“Meow~”

Xiao Yu remembered the hands that had delivered her into the world; she butted Grandma’s finger with her head.

During term-time, Grandma had been her primary caretaker.

“I’ll take her upstairs so you can cook,” Ai Qing said. “Where are Mom and Dad?”

“Out of ginger; your dad’s fetching some. Mom’s resting—just back from a trip. Let her sleep till dinner.”

“Okay.” He stepped into the courtyard, calling back, “I’ll come down and help!”

“Go play! Your father can manage. He says writing novels is brain-work—stay out of my kitchen.”

“Got it!”

Crap.

Good thing Dad hadn’t mentioned titles; if Grandma ever learned the novel was called My Childhood Friend Turns into a Cat, her golden image of her scholarly grandson might implode.

He crossed the little yard and climbed the stair bolted to the balcony—an after-sales perk of the first-floor unit. His parents had chosen the flat above precisely to be near the elders; the stair saved them leaving the compound.

Second-floor balcony, bedroom door, click of the lock—home base.

He released Xiao Yu, poured a fresh bag of litter into the waiting box.

“Meow~”

Last summer and winter she’d ruled this room; she scaled chair, desk, wardrobe and perched on the highest ledge, surveying her domain.

Ai Qing exhaled.

Please, let tonight go smoothly.