Chapter 22: A Question for the Cat—Cat, Are You Waiting for Her to Come Home?

The catering truck, decked out in colorful, flashing lights, was impossible to miss.

Tang Danqing and her friend chatted beside it, her gaze drifting now and then toward the vehicle. Then she spotted the young actress—

The one Feng Shiyi had tried to pressure into sleeping with her at the private hot-spring club.

Tang Danqing had later heard from the assistant director that the actress was called…what was it? Zhou Yan.

Zhou Yan was sitting on a flower bed by the roadside, wearing her costume and hugging herself as she gazed longingly at the catering truck. Her lips were pressed together, and she looked as if she’d been wronged.

She was cold, shoulders hunched. While the other crew members came and went from the truck with hot drinks and smiles, she sat alone beside the flower bed, watching them with a lonely expression.

Tang Danqing realized that since Zhou Yan had refused Feng Shiyi’s advances, things were probably difficult for her on set. Feng Shiyi could find a hundred ways to make life miserable for her. She could even keep her out of the catering truck.

After saying goodbye to her friend, Tang Danqing walked over and sat beside Zhou Yan.

“Want something to drink? There’s a convenience store nearby. I’ll get you something.”

Tang Danqing had smiled kindly. She’d just wanted to keep Zhou Yan from being excluded and isolated.

But Zhou Yan turned to look at her, then suddenly stood up and stormed off without a word.

There had been something like a glare in that look. Tang Danqing wondered if she’d imagined it. It reminded her of the way her Senior Sister used to glare at her as a child, angry and full of dislike.

Tang Danqing: “?”

Dazed, she followed Zhou Yan outside. Zhou Yan was leaning against the doorframe of an empty set, her eyes reddened as if she were about to cry.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t follow me! You’re a jinx!” Zhou Yan shouted, flinging out a hand.

Tang Danqing froze.

“You’re the reason I got on the wrong side of CEO Feng. Now I don’t have a single chance in this production. I’m just wasting my time on set. Happy now?!”

All Zhou Yan’s anger and hurt from the past few days poured out. “I hate you! Who asked you to meddle? Can you just get lost?!”

The concern in Tang Danqing’s eyes cooled at once. When she heard the word “get lost,” her gaze sharpened like a blade.

Her sudden glare startled Zhou Yan. Martial artists could stare like wild animals, and with the night dark around them, Zhou Yan abruptly stopped shouting.

Tang Danqing was tall, and her gaze slanted down, pupils fixed on Zhou Yan. She said nothing as the oppressive silence spread.

Zhou Yan swallowed. Her voice had vanished completely.

Then Tang Danqing let out a scornful laugh and turned away, walking into the night wind.

What a small world—

Tang Danqing met Feng Shiyi outside, watching the scene with an untroubled air.

Feng Shiyi stood tall beneath a fake cherry blossom tree. This time, she smiled at Tang Danqing.

“You have a great feel for the camera. You won’t lose a single scene you’re supposed to have,” Feng Shiyi said gently and calmly. “You’re a good actress. That last scene must have been hard. It’s too cold out here at night. Go rest in the catering truck.”

“…………”

Tang Danqing had met a hundred people like Feng Shiyi, if not more. The entertainment industry was just as messy as the back alleys; the methods were different, that was all.

She nodded to Feng Shiyi and walked past her.

What a pain.

Tang Danqing had been living on set with the rest of the crew, eating and sleeping alongside the staff, filming around the clock. She hadn’t been home in four days.

For four days, she hadn’t appeared in Shang You’s world.

On the first day, Shang You’s life at home went on as usual.

On the second, she confirmed that Tang Danqing really had meant it when she said she’d be away for work for a long time.

On the third, she enjoyed having the shelter to herself. As she stroked the cat on the sofa, she suddenly remembered the way Tang Danqing had held the cat out to her.

On the fourth, Shang You wondered: If Tang Danqing never came back, would the house and all this freedom belong to her?

On the fifth day, Shang You stayed home, played with her guns, worked out, and cooked.

The kitchen range hood was running, and oil was heating in a pan. Shang You took out some red-braised pork Tang Danqing had made from her Spatial Storage. It was still warm.

A palm-sized piece of tender, glutinous pork sat on a white porcelain plate. The skin and meat were coated in a glossy red sauce. Shang You leaned closer, and the rich aroma rose up at once.

The pork skin and meat clung tightly together, with nothing falling apart. Tang Danqing had taught her how to keep the meat intact.

You had to simmer it slowly, using the right amount of heat and sauce. Then, after lifting the lid, you could gently poke the tender pork with your chopsticks. It would wobble—duang, duang.

Shang You had already eaten one piece. It was rich but not greasy, with a sweet, fragrant sauce. This was the second piece Tang Danqing had made while teaching her, and then…there had been no more.

A gleaming layer of sauce still coated the pork skin. The tender lean meat would practically melt in your mouth. Shang You had never eaten pork this good, not even during the eighteen years she’d lived in comfort.

After the apocalypse, even a bowl of fresh rice counted as a decent meal. It had been so long since she’d tasted food that could objectively be called delicious.

The red-braised pork was better than lamb hot pot, better than steak, better than fresh vegetables, better than anything Shang You had eaten since she’d found it again.

At home, Shang You had tried to make the same dish seven or eight times, using that last piece as a guide. Each time she cooked, she took it out to look at and smell, swallowing at the aroma before reluctantly putting it back in her Spatial Storage.

She wouldn’t eat the sample until she could make a batch that tasted exactly the same.

But no matter what she did, hers never came close. Today was no exception.

She dumped the inedible pork into the trash, ate something else, and decided to try again next time.

Tang Danqing wouldn’t be back anytime soon. Shang You wanted to leave the hotel and see what was outside. She put on her gear and took the elevator down.

She only needed to check the immediate area. She had the ability to deal with danger now, she thought, as she reached the hotel’s battered entrance.

A wall of light stopped her.

Shang You hadn’t expected that she couldn’t leave the hotel.

【You cannot leave this area yet. Please return to your residence and wait patiently…】

【You cannot leave this area yet. Please return to your residence and wait patiently…】

【You cannot leave this area yet. Please return to your residence and wait patiently…】

Every time Shang You tried to take a step forward, a glowing wall appeared out of nowhere, displaying the same message.

“…………”

She stood there for a moment, gripping the handle of her umbrella and staring down at the tips of her boots.

Half a minute later, she returned to the elevator and went back to her room.

What did “yet” and “wait” mean? Shang You had encountered another strange and unbelievable phenomenon, just like when she’d watched Tang Danqing appear out of nowhere, conjure objects, and turn stone into gold. Even Shang You had gained the ability to store things in a space of her own.

This must have been some kind of ability that let people resist the natural world in the apocalypse.

If it helped her survive, then anything strange or impossible—anything she’d once thought too far-fetched to be real—could be real now.

Was Shan Qing busy in her oasis right now?

Shang You closed the door, set her umbrella aside, changed her shoes, and sat back down on the sofa. She turned on the television and game console, then started playing the game she’d played with Shan Qing.

Her thoughts drifted back to the days before.

Was Shan Qing all right? She was probably fine.

…

Shang You counted back through her memories. Today marked the twenty-eighth day since she’d met Shan Qing.

Since Shan Qing had last said she needed to go to work, seven days had passed without her showing up.

Shang You nonchalantly poured food into the cat’s bowl. The cat came over and ate with gusto, her teeth crunching away.

Shang You remembered Shan Qing saying her work could be dangerous, too. What kind of work was she doing? Could she die by accident?

Shang You thought about how Shan Qing had come to see her every day, but never asked her to do anything in return. When Shang You was unhappy, Shan Qing would just sit by the rabbit toys and amuse herself. She’d never given her “pet” a single order.

Shang You realized she didn’t mind Shan Qing coming home every day.

Would she really come back in a month?

What kind of dangerous work was she doing?

If Shan Qing vanished without a trace, Shang You…would light three sticks of incense for her at home.

After all, Shan Qing had treated her well. She’d saved Shang You and given her a new life.

“Little Red, Shan Qing rescued you. Are you waiting for her to come home?”

Shang You crouched beside the cat’s bowl and asked. She felt like she and the cat were much the same.

The cat kept eating with her head down.

Cats couldn’t understand human speech, but was the little creature worried that Shan Qing hadn’t come home for seven days?

Shang You didn’t understand cats either. Never mind. She stroked the cat’s back, running a hand over her fur.

As long as Shan Qing wasn’t dead, it didn’t matter when she came back.

Shang You lowered her eyes. She felt a little strange in the quiet house, and fiddled with the ring Shan Qing had given her, twisting it around her finger.

She finally started using the toys Shan Qing had bought her to pass the time.

【Blue Star Online: Server 1 has fewer than 10 survivors remaining. Beginning automatic merger…】

Tang Danqing had been working with the film crew for seven days when disaster struck.

A blizzard.

Feathery snow fell over the Capital City. After an urgent weather alert, the snowfall intensified overnight, burying the entire film studio.

Snow blocked the roads, and the outdoor temperature plunged to minus 20 degrees Celsius in the storm. The crew couldn’t continue filming and had to suspend production for the time being, returning to the hotel to regroup.

The director and investors were all frustrated. They’d held the opening ceremony, performed the ritual at the location, handed out red envelopes—so how had this happened so soon after filming began?!

Winter was over. According to the calendar, it was already the season of Awakening of Insects. How could a blizzard suddenly hit?

The crew had booked out the hotel, and the situation brought joy to some and worry to others. Some staff stretched out on soft beds beneath the warm air conditioning and thought happily, Another day of slacking off, and we still get our monthly salary. What a deal. This is great!

Just like the unexpected snowstorm fifteen years earlier, this early-spring blizzard had come out of nowhere, leaving everyone both astonished and oddly delighted.

The crew wouldn’t be able to start filming again anytime soon. The storm had already lasted twelve hours with no sign of letting up, and the film studio was buried in snow. Even after the snowfall stopped, workers would need a day or two to clear it before filming could resume.

Like her coworkers, Tang Danqing gazed out at the falling snow and tried to guess how long the shutdown would last.

At least three days, maybe. Beyond that, who knew? They could be delayed for a week.

She wanted to go home…

With filming suspended, the hotel was so boring. She wanted to go home, play games, and check on Little Jelly.

But she couldn’t. Three feet of snow had blocked the roads, and the news on television and online was urging residents to stay home and avoid dangerous routes. The meteorological bureau estimated that the snow would stop in about twenty-four hours.

Tang Danqing had no choice but to stay at the hotel, eat and drink, work out, and go to bed on schedule.