Chapter 52: The Stray Cat (2)

Meow, meow...

On summer nights, the mosquitoes were relentless. In the span of a single phone call, Meng Yier had already acquired two bites. She stood up, ready to head back, when a sudden meowing drifted from the nearby bushes.

Meng Yier switched on her phone’s flashlight and followed the direction of the sound. At last, she spotted a small white kitten nestled among the thick greenery.

Its snowy fur was sullied with dirt, and a patch near its neck was tinged red. Meng Yier guessed it must be a stray, and it was injured, too.

As she drew closer, the kitten, startled, tried to burrow deeper into the undergrowth. No matter how softly she called, coaxing it with gentle “meow, meow” sounds, the little creature would not emerge. It crouched in the shadows, peering out at her warily, monitoring her every move.

Careful not to frighten it further, Meng Yier sat quietly outside the thicket, speaking to it in a soothing whisper.

“Don’t be scared, little one. I’m not here to hurt you. You’re wounded, and if you don’t get help, your injury might get infected. Won’t you come out? I’ll take you to the doctor, and it won’t hurt so much anymore.”

The kitten remained motionless, but Meng Yier noticed its gaze softening, the hostility and fear ebbing from its eyes.

She smiled gently, continuing her soft monologue, “Poor thing, you must be in so much pain...”

After she had murmured to it for a long, long time, the kitten finally crept out from the bushes, cautiously approaching and curling up at her feet, gazing up at her with a docile look.

Meng Yier stroked its white fur lightly, and the kitten closed its eyes, purring contentedly.

“You’re adorable. Do you have a name?” she murmured, lifting it carefully into her arms to examine its wounds. The injuries were fresh, as if it had been bitten by something.

Meng Yier decided to take it home for the night and bring it to the pet hospital in the morning for proper care.

She had only taken a few steps on her way back when the kitten suddenly pricked up its ears, wriggled out of her arms, and dashed off.

“Where are you going, little one?”

Meng Yier hurried after it, but it had already vanished without a trace.

Thinking of its wounds, she grew anxious—if left untreated, infection was a real threat. Unable to let it go, she called out for the kitten and searched around twice, yet there was no sign of it.

Disheartened, she finally turned back toward home, resigning herself to rest.

Meow...

As she reached the foot of her building, she heard the familiar mewing again. Instinctively, she looked up and saw someone crouched down, feeding the kitten with some cat food.

Delighted, she hurried over. “So this is where you ran off to, little one...”

The person feeding the cat looked up. Though a mask covered his face, Meng Yier recognized him instantly.

“Yan Yichen, what are you doing here?”

With no change in his expression, Yan Yichen glanced at her and answered with a simple “Mm,” then lowered his head to continue feeding the kitten.

Meng Yier came closer and crouched beside him, murmuring, “It’s hurt—”

“I see,” Yan Yichen replied without looking up.

“Is it your cat?”

He lifted his eyes to her briefly, then turned his gaze back to the kitten. “No, it’s a stray. I found it downstairs about a year ago. It was so skinny and pitiful then. I wanted to take it home, but I can’t—I’m allergic to cats. So I built it a little shelter and come down every day to feed it.”

As he spoke, he gestured toward a small cat house behind the bushes.

A tremor ran through Meng Yier’s heart. She stared at him, dazed. “Aren’t you worried about your allergies?”

A surprising display of kindness, she thought. Who would have guessed this arrogant, proud man had such a gentle side?

The kitten mewed twice, rubbed against his feet, and then lowered its head to continue eating.