Chapter 27

With the matter concluded, the group dispersed.

Ming Yi was shooed back by Ming Ke to tend to his wounds. Ming Ke himself took on the task of escorting Tong Yuwu home. Meng Yiran felt a twinge of anxiety but could only follow Ling Ge and Ling Ze for the time being as they departed.

After walking a short distance, she came to a halt and bid the two farewell. “I need to head back too.”

Ling Ge widened her eyes and lowered her voice. “Haven’t you figured out the situation yet?”

“I’m not clueless,” Meng Yiran shot back. “It’s just that some things take priority over others in my mind. Right now, for me, getting home is the most important thing.”

“I’ve been gone for ages. I can’t even imagine what she’ll do if she gets back and finds me missing.”

Ling Ze regarded her calmly. “So what’s your plan? Just go home and confess everything?”

His eyes held a piercing insight, as if they could peer straight into her soul. “Are you sure she can accept it? Accept that her pet cat has become a human with thoughts and feelings of her own?”

At those words, Meng Yiran’s shoulders slumped.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “Truth be told, I have no confidence at all.” She pursed her lips. “But I still think that no matter what I do or how it turns out, it’s better than dodging reality and letting her think the cat got lost.”

With that, she drew a deep breath and turned to Ling Ge and Ling Ze. “Rest assured, no matter whether she believes me or not, I’ll keep everything about your Golden Marten Clan under wraps.”

Ling Ge leaned in as if to grab her, but Meng Yiran reflexively stumbled back several steps.

She fixed the other girl with a stare. “We had a deal—you can’t force me anymore!”

Ling Ge pouted. “We originally agreed to find a quiet spot to talk, but you were the one trying to sneak off.”

Meng Yiran let out a sigh, attempting to reason with her. “I know I might seem ungrateful in your eyes, but shouldn’t helping someone take their feelings into account sometimes?”

Ling Ge grew impatient. “Come back with us first. Once you learn the truth…”

She got only halfway before Ling Ze cut her off.

He stepped forward, taking charge of the conversation. “You’re right. We only want to recover our lost kin—we have no desire to make enemies.”

Meng Yiran breathed an inner sigh of relief, only to hear him continue. “That said, about you going back… I have a better idea. Care to hear it?”

Meng Yiran looked at him curiously. “Sure?”

Ling Ze explained, “I can use a spell from our clan to seal you back into your cat form. But once it’s cast on you, the only way to break it will be for you to return to me. No amount of energy you gather afterward will let you shift into human shape on your own.” He softened his tone, coaxing her gently. “This way, you won’t have to agonize over explaining things to Miss Tong just yet. And we won’t have to worry about you spilling the Golden Marten Clan’s secrets—or simply vanishing.”

The idea tempted Meng Yiran greatly.

“But once I’m a cat again, how will I find you?” She glanced around. “Does Clarity Magic Academy have tight security? Will they bar small animals from coming and going?”

A faint smile touched Ling Ze’s lips. “You needn’t worry about that. When the time is right, we’ll come to you.”

“Besides, Miss Tong is about to enroll at Clarity Magic Academy, isn’t she? I suspect we’ll cross paths often from here on.”

Meng Yiran nodded.

After all, Ling Ze and Ling Ge were both students there. A monk might flee, but the temple would remain—it wouldn’t be hard to arrange a meeting. “All right, let’s go with your plan,” she agreed, a touch embarrassed. “Sorry for the hassle.”

“Hmph.” Ling Ge lifted her little chin with haughty pride. “Good that you know. Remember the favor my brother and I are doing you, and play nice with us from now on.”

Meng Yiran shuddered at the memory. “As long as you never use that trick on me again, I’m sure we can get along just fine.”

Ling Ge flashed a smug grin. “We’ll see how I feel.”

Giggling, she pressed, “Pretty awesome move, right? One grab, and you’re frozen—can’t move a muscle, can’t even speak. You just have to lie there and take whatever I dish out.”

As the victim, Meng Yiran gave a twitching-lipped, halfhearted reply. “Yeah… it’s pretty impressive.”

“Hee hee.” Ling Ge puffed out her chest. “It’s my newly awakened Innate Skill!”

“Innate Skill?” Meng Yiran’s eyes lit up.

Ling Ge nodded. “Our Golden Marten Clan is a blessed race. Every member has their own Innate… er…” She caught herself midway, remembering to play coy, and clamped her mouth shut. “Hmph. Since you’re not coming back with us, I’m not telling you another word.”

She slanted a glance at Meng Yiran. “Next time you come find me, I’ll tell you all about it.”

Meng Yiran nodded. “Fine.”

“It’s about time. I really need to get back,” she urged aloud. She turned to Ling Ze. “So, how does that spell of yours work?”

“Ling Ge, head back first,” Ling Ze instructed. He looked at Meng Yiran. “I’ll escort you to the spot where we first met.”

Neither of the girls objected. The three of them walked on a little farther before parting ways in a secluded corner.

Retracing the dim alley, Ling Ze duly saw Meng Yiran back to the vicinity of Rose Street. In an empty bend free of onlookers, he pressed the index finger of his right hand to her forehead and silently recited an incantation.

A wave of warmth bloomed at Meng Yiran’s brow, surging through her body in an instant. It felt so soothing that she nearly yawned. When it faded, she blinked her eyes open—and could only see Ling Ze’s calves.

She tilted her head up, about to ask what had happened, but all that emerged were a pair of plaintive “meows.”

“I’ve taken care of your clothes,” Ling Ze said. “Next time you shift back to human form, they’ll be right on you.” He crouched down and reached out toward the little white cat, seemingly intent on petting her, but Meng Yiran dodged aside. He didn’t press the issue, merely waving a hand. “You’re good to go. Off with you.”

Meng Yiran thanked him with a few mews in cat-speak, then bounded away from the corner on all fours.

The fragrance of roses guided her path, and she raced without pause toward the Tong Family’s small building. By sheer coincidence, soon after entering Rose Street, she perched atop a household fence and caught sight of Tong Yuwu descending from a carriage with understated elegance.

They had parted only moments ago, yet an inexplicable pang of long-awaited reunion welled up in Meng Yiran, stinging her eyes.

She yearned to reunite with Tong Yuwu at once, but she had no desire to show herself before anyone from the Ming Family. Abandoning her plan to return straight to the small building, she resolved to wait right there. When Tong Yuwu passed by, she would leap out and stage a heartfelt scene of a devoted pet welcoming its mistress home.

With that in mind, the little white cat shifted to a new vantage, taking care to conceal herself behind a thick cluster of rose bushes.

She was still mulling over the perfect heartwarming entrance—one that would leave Tong Yuwu suitably impressed—when a childish voice piped up from below.

“Kitty.”

Meng Yiran whipped her head toward the sound. There, standing just inside the wall, was a little girl—doubtless the child of the household. Her dark eyes were bright and round, her face cherubic, but she was covered head to toe in grime. It wasn’t the unkempt filth of neglect, but the glorious mess of a mischievous imp who had tumbled through the mud in her fine clothes.

Coincidentally, Meng Yiran remembered her. Just yesterday, when they had first arrived on Rose Street, this same little girl had swung a rose branch at her—only for Tong Yuwu to deftly sidestep.

Between the girl’s disheveled state and her prior antics, Meng Yiran felt no warmth toward her. She padded forward a few steps, putting distance between them in hopes of minding her own business.

The little girl apparently missed the hint. She brandished a freshly plucked rose branch—the blossoms still vibrant and unwilted—teasing at the cat while chanting, “Kitty, kitty.”

The persistent calls grated on Meng Yiran’s nerves. She even began weighing whether to leap to a neighboring fence.

But Tong Yuwu had already entered Rose Street. Relocating now would surely draw notice.

After a moment’s thought, Meng Yiran bared her sharp fangs and hissed at the girl, hoping to send her scampering.

Startled, the little girl stumbled back two steps—then lost her footing entirely and tumbled to the ground.

Directly behind her loomed a dense rosebush, ablaze with blooms. She landed squarely in it, sending the branches quivering.

Meng Yiran hadn’t meant any real harm. She turned back and mewed encouragingly at the child.

To her surprise, the little girl proved remarkably composed. She didn’t wail or carry on as if it were an everyday occurrence. Propping herself up, she rose on her own. Meng Yiran watched intently, concern prickling at her. The girl’s clothes covered most of her body, but between her sock and her loose lantern pants, the motion had tugged open a small gap on her calf, exposing a patch of soft, childish skin. A rose thorn had pricked it precisely there.

A thin rivulet of blood trickled forth. Some seeped into the white fabric of her sock, blooming into a crimson stain; the rest dripped down into the rosebush, onto a branch bent beneath her weight. Upon that branch bloomed a flawless pale pink rose. The blood traced delicate lines across its petals, as if veins had sprouted from the flower itself.

Meng Yiran found herself caught up in the scene when suddenly the rose branches swayed. The little girl snapped off that bloodstained rose with her bare hand.

Without so much as a glance, she held the flower out toward Meng Yiran.

The Little White Cat eyed it with clear disdain, haughtily turning her head away.

At that precise moment, Tong Yuwu happened to pass nearby. No longer in the mood to deal with the little girl, she leaped down from the wall and landed squarely in Tong Yuwu’s arms.

Tong Yuwu staggered back two steps from the unexpected pounce, but she held on tight. The Little White Cat had no chance of slipping free.

Meng Yiran looked up and spotted the small wound at the corner of Tong Yuwu’s forehead. It had already begun to heal into a shallow scab, but on that otherwise flawless face, it stood out as utterly unforgivable.

Devastated, the Little White Cat stared at the wound and let out a plaintive “meow meow.” Her first instinct upon snapping out of it was to stretch her neck toward it for a lick.

But before she could even poke out her little tongue, Tong Yuwu pinched her cat mouth shut between two fingers.

The Doll Lady met her gaze calmly and murmured three soft words: “No, you may not.”

Meng Yiran: “…”

It wasn’t for lack of trying—her mouth was firmly pinched closed.

Thankfully, words weren’t the only way to make a point. The Little White Cat flailed her front paws in a spoiled tantrum, batting at Tong Yuwu’s neck and shoulders.

Tong Yuwu seemed to understand perfectly. She paused, then added, “It’s dirty.”

Meng Yiran writhed even harder, her eyes dimming with distress.

In the midst of her outburst, the fingers released her mouth. No clue what had changed Tong Yuwu’s mind, but the Little White Cat wasted no time darting forward.

Unsure if cat saliva might harm a human, she opted for caution. She licked away only the nearby streaks of uncleaned blood, avoiding the scab itself.

Even so, she felt Tong Yuwu’s body quiver faintly.

Thinking she’d caused pain, Meng Yiran ducked her head to check—only to find Tong Yuwu staring downward, lost in some distant memory, oblivious to her.

A flicker of jealousy sparked. Meng Yiran mewed “meow-meow” to pull her back.

Sure enough, Tong Yuwu refocused. She slid her hands under the Little White Cat’s armpits, hoisting her up to eye level. Staring into that familiar face, she demanded, “Where did you pick up this awful habit?”

Meng Yiran played dumb, nuzzling her nose against Tong Yuwu’s fingers.

A faint clack sounded nearby. One woman and one cat turned to see the little girl leaning against the door, her dark eyes fixed on them. She still clutched the bloodstained flower, its brownish pulp oozing between her fingers.

Tong Yuwu looked away at once and kept walking, Meng Yiran cradled securely in her arms.

About a hundred meters from the Tong Family Small Building, they ran into a drenched and panting Jenny. Spotting Tong Yuwu, she hurried over. “Miss, the cat’s gone miss—”

Her words died as she took in Meng Yiran, lounging contentedly in Tong Yuwu’s embrace.

Meng Yiran’s heart sank. Only then did it hit her: the household staff must have noticed her absence ages ago. Guilt flooded in.

Jenny closed the distance. “You little troublemaker, where’ve you been hiding?”

She’d reined in her temper, but her voice still carried an edge. “Do you have any idea Meili spent the whole noon crying her eyes out looking for you?”

Meng Yiran buried her face in the crook of Tong Yuwu’s arm. Her tail drooped limply; she didn’t dare twitch.

The trio made their way back to the Small Building. Meng Yiran’s return put the frantic cat-searching servants at ease, and they dispersed to their duties.

Racked with remorse, Meng Yiran barely touched her lunch. She tried to push half her portion of meat toward red-eyed Meili.

Meili wouldn’t have it. Instead, she coaxed the Little White Cat to eat more.

After that belated midday meal, Tong Yuwu carried her back to the Bedroom for a nap. The Small Building wasn’t fully settled yet, leaving nowhere suitable in the Garden for owner and cat to lounge in the sun.

Meng Yiran clambered onto the windowsill and peered down. The Garden looked almost unchanged from that morning. Meili’s gardening shears lay abandoned on the ground beside a knee-high pile of rose branches.

No doubt Meili had noticed her gone soon after Ling Ze and Ling Ge whisked her away—and dropped everything to search.

Tong Yuwu stepped up behind her. Without warning, she demanded an accounting: “When exactly did you sneak out?”

The Little White Cat’s ears shot straight up.

She whipped her head around in bewilderment, fixing Tong Yuwu with a vacant stare. She let out a dopey meow, her expression screaming, “What are you talking about?”

Tong Yuwu wasn’t about to let her off that easily. “Where did you sneak out from? This window? How did you slip past Meili?”

Meng Yiran lowered her head and licked her paws, pointedly avoiding Tong Yuwu’s gaze.

But Tong Yuwu lifted her chin, forcing her to meet her eyes. “Isn’t it nice here? Where do you think you’re running off to?”

Meng Yiran wanted to cry, but she had no tears left.

She wriggled free and leaped back onto the bed in a few quick bounds. Rolling onto her back, she exposed her soft belly and let out a series of soft, pleading meows toward Tong Yuwu.

When Tong Yuwu reached for her again, Meng Yiran wrapped her front paws around the woman’s fingers and gently licked them.

“That’s not right,” Tong Yuwu said, her cheeks tinged with an unnatural flush as she delivered a stiff scolding.

Meng Yiran rose to her paws, arched her neck, and rubbed her body gently against Tong Yuwu’s wrist. At the same time, she raised her tail and wrapped it in a circle around the woman’s forearm.

The Noble Miss’s forearm was smooth-skinned, glowing with a faint pink sheen. In the afternoon sunlight, delicate blue veins were visible beneath the surface. The soft fur of the little cat’s tail brushed against her sensitive skin, sending a fine, prickling itch across it.

Tong Yuwu tried to pull her hand away but couldn’t resist in the end. Midway, she diverted and caught the tip of the Little White Cat’s tail, giving it a gentle pinch.

Meng Yiran pinched her throat and forced out the kind of simpering, coquettish mewl she never would have dreamed of making before.

“Meooow~”

Tong Yuwu clearly ate it up.

“You’re such a spoiled little thing,” she muttered, even as her other hand reached over to rub the Little White Cat’s ears.