Chapter 11: Pets

Summer nights arrived late. Even at seven o’clock, the sky remained a pale gray.

The city slowly began to light up.

Cheng Zhanya had slept all day, and her body felt like it was falling apart.

Lin Hanbing still hadn’t come home. It looked like she was working overtime again tonight, with no idea when she might return. There hadn’t been a single phone call.

There were still some ingredients left in the fridge. Cheng Zhanya leisurely measured out some rice and stir-fried a couple of simple side dishes. She quietly ate her dinner alone.

Bored out of her mind, Cheng Zhanya had nothing to distract herself with.

Except for drawing.

She was starting to regret not getting a pet.

Lin Hanbing was always busy with work and often went on business trips, or came home late after leaving early. Cheng Zhanya spent her days painting, losing herself for hours on end. The house felt so empty it was like no one lived there.

A little cat or dog would be nice. It could just lounge around panting when she had nothing to do.

Cheng Zhanya opened her computer.

With no serial illustrations to work on, she doodled aimlessly out of sheer boredom.

As she thought about getting a pet, her mind suddenly flashed back to that picture on the girl’s phone. An idea struck her, and an image of anthropomorphic beastkin began to take shape in her head.

Her brush moved quickly at first, sketching out the rough outline before gradually adding details.

Night deepened.

The noisy city gradually quieted down.

The drawing was finished. Cheng Zhanya glanced at the time in the bottom right corner of the screen.

It was nearly eleven.

She murmured softly, “It’s so late already.”

She stretched her hands and feet, her gaze falling on the image on the monitor. Her bright eyes curved into crescent moons.

The drawing was quite bold.

At the bathroom vanity, a canine beastkin girl wore a daring black spaghetti-strap camisole with a deep U-neckline, faintly revealing the curves of her modest breasts. The girl’s face was flushed, her body arched backward, chin tilted up to expose the elegant line of her neck.

Water droplets trailed down her arms, the side of her neck, and her fluffy dog ears. Her damp hair clung messily to her snow-white skin.

Beside her, a feline beastkin girl with shoulder-length brown hair wore a matching camisole. Her pristine white back and alluring dimples were on full display.

She was buried face-first in the canine girl’s chest, twisting her head back toward the mirror. Though her expression was blank, a faint blush colored her cheeks.

The composition and poses of the cat-dog beastkin were inspired by the real passion she had shared with Lin Hanbing the night before, rendered here with even more intricate details.

It was her first time drawing beastkin, and Cheng Zhanya thought it turned out pretty well.

She saved the image and created a new folder to move it into.

She named the folder “Lost.”

It contained only that one picture.

Cheng Zhanya shut down the computer and went to the living room to pour some water. Gazing at the vast emptiness of the space, a pang of loneliness suddenly welled up inside her.

She picked up her phone and checked it.

There was still no reply to her morning message.

Lin Hanbing was so busy she couldn’t even spare a moment to respond. They’d been so intimate the night before, yet today she couldn’t be bothered with even a single text.

Cheng Zhanya gripped her phone a little tighter, her brows furrowing slightly. She pondered deeply for a moment before deciding to call Lin Hanbing.

The call connected.

“Yaya?”

“Still up?”

Lin Hanbing’s voice came through, soft and tinged with faint exhaustion.

Cheng Zhanya felt a twinge of grievance. She took a breath and asked, “Not done with work yet? When are you coming home?”

“No, my head hurts.”

“I’m not coming back tonight. You should rest early.”

Lin Hanbing’s office had a lounge with all the daily essentials. When she worked too late, she just crashed there instead of driving home, so she wouldn’t wake Cheng Zhanya.

Not coming back tonight?

Cheng Zhanya froze, her lips trembling slightly.

Lin Hanbing’s company was only about forty minutes away from home. Yet she just decided not to come back.

Cheng Zhanya said softly, “You’re that busy, huh.”

Lin Hanbing let out a breath. “Yeah, things have been hectic lately.”

“Then do you still remember what you promised me?”

The promise to spend a whole day with her—could she still keep it?

Cheng Zhanya wasn’t being unreasonable. Work was important, of course, but she just hoped Lin Hanbing would make some time to think of her too.

They were married. She had a family.

Yet with all the constant business trips and staying at the office, what did she think their marriage was?

Lin Hanbing fell silent for a moment before saying, “I remember.”

“Good.”

Cheng Zhanya hung up and tossed the phone onto the table.

She was pretty angry.

She’d thought that when Lin Hanbing returned from her trip, they could enjoy a few days of normal married life. Instead, even meals were rushed, followed by endless loneliness and emptiness.

Cheng Zhanya returned to the bedroom and lay on the bed, gradually calming down.

Looking back over the past two years, Lin Hanbing had grown busier and busier—off on trips every few days, gone for a week or half a month at a time. As her wife, Cheng Zhanya was lucky to see her once a month.

When would this life end?

Cheng Zhanya sighed and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow Lin Hanbing had slept on that morning. She could still catch the scent of her.

The night grew deeper, stretching on endlessly.

Cheng Zhanya felt trapped in a dead end, too upset to sleep—maybe from sleeping too much during the day.

She tossed and turned in bed until nearly three in the morning before finally drifting off.

By noon, the sky was a dreary gray, the air hotter and more stifling than usual.

It felt like a storm was brewing.

Cheng Zhanya wanted to go out.

Her birthday was the day after tomorrow, and Lin Hanbing had promised to make time to spend with her. She wanted to buy some ingredients for a romantic candlelit dinner at home.

No outsiders, away from the noise.

Eating cake, sipping red wine.

When they were tipsy, they could do whatever they wanted, everything flowing naturally.

The smile on Cheng Zhanya’s face faded quickly as she recalled the argument with Lin Hanbing the night before. Her head began to ache.

Unsure when the rain would start, she suddenly lost the mood to go out. She stood on the balcony for a while before heading back to her room.

She messaged Fan Yaobai on WeChat about getting a pet.

A little later, Fan Yaobai sent over a few photos of cats.

They were silver-white, small and fluffy—adorably cute.

Cheng Zhanya thought they were stock images at first, but then Fan Yaobai followed up with a few voice messages.

“I’ve been raising this one lately.”

“Its name’s Fan Jiujiu, a British Shorthair.”

“Isn’t it super cute?”

Fan Yaobai’s response made her stance clear.

Cheng Zhanya asked when she had time off and suggested they go look at pets together.

Fan Yaobai had been swamped lately with her company’s new project launch. She’d been working overtime, leaving early and coming home late, only able to check on Fan Jiujiu via the security cameras.

She thought Cheng Zhanya’s current state was perfect for having a pet.

Fan Yaobai sent another voice message.

“How about next week? Should be done with the crunch by then.”

Cheng Zhanya: “Sure.”

Once the time was set, Cheng Zhanya didn’t bother her anymore. She went online to browse pictures and learn about pet care in advance.

After a restless night, looking at the images helped her settle down, deepening her desire to get a cat.

A torrential downpour had started at some point, raindrops pattering against the windows.

She hadn’t bought anything new in ages, and the fridge was nearly empty.

Having skipped a meal past hunger, she didn’t even feel like eating anymore.

She’d gone a full day without a drop to drink or bite to eat, yet she wasn’t hungry.

She was practically enlightened, she thought.

Ding.

The distinctive QQ notification sounded, almost drowned out by the rain.

Cheng Zhanya rarely used QQ anymore, but her studio group made it handy for sharing files, so she kept it.

The only person who messaged her on QQ was her editor.

—Baby, Children’s Day is coming up soon. Planning any giveaways?

—Feedback on the last promo booklet was great. This time we’re doing standees.

Cheng Zhanya replied: Got it.

—Send me the standee art next week then.