March 3rd.
A light, drizzling rain had fallen past midnight, but it wasn’t heavy. Today’s sun had emerged, and it didn’t take long before the dampness left by the rain evaporated and vanished completely.
Cheng Yan was squatting under a tree, locked in a silent staring contest with a very fat orange cat.
“Won’t let me pet you?”
Cheng Yan’s gaze was somewhat unkind as she stared at the orange cat meowing fiercely at her.
A hand with distinct knuckles reached out again. Seeing this, the orange cat raised a paw and meowed repeatedly, throwing a flurry of cat punches at the air with great satisfaction, its refusal extremely clear.
“Meow! Meow meow! Meow meow meow!”
The orange cat’s demeanor was incredibly arrogant, showing no trace of the sweet, happily petted cat who had been pinned under Cheng Yan’s hand while accepting liquid cat treats just days ago.
Cheng Yan’s long lashes drooped slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching a couple of times.
Ungrateful bad cat.
“You came to find it again.”
A gentle female voice, tinged with laughter, sounded from behind her.
Cheng Yan showed little reaction. Only when she sensed footsteps stopping beside her did she open her mouth to greet, “Senior.”
Chen Shuhua looked at the girl and cat in their standoff, especially this orange cat that had been around before they even enrolled. She smiled, “Hm? Are you sure you’re addressing me?”
Cheng Yan, staring at the cat fat as a little piglet, nodded, “Of course.”
Chen Shuhua crouched down, the hem of her coat drooping to lightly brush the pant leg of the person beside her. She paid no mind to the dust it picked up, casually adjusting her coat. She tentatively reached out to pet the orange cat and met no resistance. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes; she hadn’t expected the cat, which refused the empty-handed Cheng Yan’s touch, to obediently let her pet it. The smile at her lips involuntarily widened.
“Since you like it so much, why not take it home?”
Staring at the cat’s fat body, Cheng Yan’s gaze turned a bit frosty.
She stood up, the previously relaxed and helpless mood fading. A touch of boredom surfaced, and her voice became lazy, lacking energy. “The dorm isn’t convenient.”
Watching the orange cat’s double-standard behavior, Cheng Yan still felt somewhat annoyed.
Ungrateful bad cat, how many times has she fed you? As many as I have?
An untimely, unprovoked, groundless possessiveness flared up. Cheng Yan folded her arms, feeling it was all rather pointless.
Hearing this, Chen Shuhua’s hand paused mid-pet.
The orange cat sensed the hand on its back had stopped, meowing twice as if urging her on.
It even flipped over, exposing its soft belly for Chen Shuhua to rub.
A thought flashed through her mind. Suddenly, Chen Shuhua felt her throat go dry. She petted the cat absentmindedly, which finally stopped its meowing.
The two fell into silence. Just as Cheng Yan was about to turn and leave, Chen Shuhua called out to her.
“Junior, say… what if I take it home to raise?”
Cheng Yan paused, her gaze shifting to Chen Shuhua crouching there, the other looking up at her, waiting for an answer. Her expression held a nervousness that was hard to conceal.
It was just about adopting a stray cat wandering the campus, and the cat clearly liked her. What was she so nervous about?
Cheng Yan’s lips unconsciously flattened.
The change in her expression was subtle, and Chen Shuhua, caught up in her own nervousness from harboring other feelings, didn’t notice.
She could only feel Cheng Yan’s gaze seemingly roaming over her face.
Cheng Yan had always known Chen Shuhua was good-looking. Not the stunning, attention-grabbing kind of beauty, but a gentle aura steeped in scholarly elegance. It elevated her seventy-point facial features to eighty-five points in an instant.
Moving her from ‘quite good-looking’ to ‘very good-looking’.
Of course, this was Cheng Yan’s own private standard of evaluation.
She actually really liked Chen Shuhua’s gentle, harmless temperament. It gave her a sense of reassurance deep down.
Cheng Yan forced a smile: “If you want to raise it, then raise it.”
It had nothing to do with her, it wasn’t her cat.
Chen Shuhua felt a bit relieved, smiling as she said, “I have a place off-campus, so it’ll be convenient to raise. Besides, this way, you can come feed it anytime and won’t have trouble finding it.”
This way… they could see each other more often.
“You make a good point,” Cheng Yan said. “But since it has a home now, I don’t need to keep paying out of my own pocket to feed it.”
Ah?
Chen Shuhua froze for a moment; that wasn’t her intention.
Cheng Yan gestured for her to look. The orange cat’s meows had started to turn coy. “It really likes you, doesn’t it?”
Chen Shuhua looked down. The cat was purring loudly as she petted it.
It seemed to really like her.
She tentatively picked up the orange cat and didn’t meet the resistance of cat punches.
Holding the reasonably heavy cat, Chen Shuhua caught up with Cheng Yan’s steps and naturally asked, “Does it need to go to the vet for a checkup first?”
Having never raised a cat, Chen Shuhua wasn’t familiar with these procedures.
“Seems so,” Cheng Yan replied.
Chen Shuhua said, “I’m free next, so I’ll take it for a checkup and buy some things to set up at home.”
She laid out her next plans, her eyes looking at Cheng Yan, silently filled with expectation.
Cheng Yan smiled, “Senior, I have to submit my lab report to my advisor soon.”
“Alright,” Chen Shuhua said, slightly disappointed she couldn’t accompany Cheng Yan. “I’ll drive and take it myself.”
Cheng Yan hummed in acknowledgment. “Take care on the road.”
At the fork in the path, watching Cheng Yan’s slender figure gradually walk away, a layer of melancholy settled in Chen Shuhua’s heart.
She liked Cheng Yan.
Chen Shuhua had fallen for Cheng Yan at first sight during a debate competition.
At that time, the other’s demeanor was steady and composed, yet her words fiercely tore the opposing team apart, her brilliance dominating the entire venue, capturing everyone’s attention, leaving no room for anyone else in one’s eyes.
Chen Shuhua couldn’t help but develop feelings for her.
After interacting later, she discovered that privately, Cheng Yan was someone with a very calm disposition. She wasn’t domineering when chatting with people. The sharp, cold-spined edge that pushed opponents to the brink of tears on the debate stage was rarely seen in her off-stage persona.
She liked the Cheng Yan on the competition stage, but she liked the even-tempered Cheng Yan in daily life even more.
It gave her the feeling that the distance between them had shortened.
Chen Shuhua was sure Cheng Yan knew she liked women, and she even felt that with Cheng Yan’s intelligence, she probably also knew about her feelings.
And after witnessing firsthand how Cheng Yan rejected others, how she tactfully distanced herself from those who liked her, this feeling in Chen Shuhua’s heart became more certain.
Cheng Yan probably really knew she had feelings for her.
But she hadn’t distanced herself from her.
Thinking of this, Chen Shuhua felt a surge of joy.
She had previously thought that perhaps Cheng Yan also had feelings for her. But after the tentative exchange about adopting the cat just now, she was uncertain again.
Could it just be that Cheng Yan thought of her as a friend and therefore pretended not to notice?
Holding the cat, Chen Shuhua’s eyes held a trace of disappointment.
She simply couldn’t grasp what Cheng Yan was thinking.
…
Cheng Yan didn’t know that after she left, someone was staring at her retreating figure, lost in thought.
She really did have a lab report to submit to her advisor.
The report had been written up as soon as she finished the experiment yesterday, but Cheng Yan had a habit of reviewing it one more time before submitting, sending it only after confirming there were no final errors. So she went back to the dorm and opened her computer directly, not bothering with the library.
After checking the data once more and finding no problems, and correcting two punctuation marks, Cheng Yan clicked send.
“Back so early? Didn’t see the cat?” Jiang Luoying, just out of the bathroom and drying her hair, asked casually upon seeing Cheng Yan at her computer.
Cheng Yan’s gaze flicked over for a second. Jiang Luoying had a very valiant name, but her looks were those of a genuine sweetheart, half a head shorter than the 175cm Cheng Yan.
She closed her laptop. “Saw it, then came back.”
Jiang Luoying was a little surprised. Having lived together in the dorm for almost a year, she knew a bit about Cheng Yan’s recent routine of spending some time feeding the orange cat at the cherry blossom grove.
“Oh,” she said, not overly curious, drying her hair slowly. “So did you submit your report?”
“Submitted,” Cheng Yan blinked, feeling a bit sleepy. “I came back to take a nap.”
Jiang Luoying glanced out the window. The sun was slanting west, and her phone showed it was already 3 PM.
But noticing the faint dark circles under Cheng Yan’s eyes, she said considerately, “Go ahead and sleep. They went out shopping, and I was just planning to sit on the balcony and enjoy the sun.”
Cheng Yan nodded, changed into her pajamas, climbed into bed, and drew the bed curtains, plunging her view into darkness.
Her sleep was usually very good; once asleep, she rarely woke easily. But last night, she had woken up in the middle of the night, a rare occurrence, and hadn’t been able to fall back asleep for a long time.
The culprit behind it all was a brief dream.
A dream that revisited yesterday.
The dream was about something that happened a few days ago.
It was pouring rain. Worried the water might splash on her, she stopped walking and stood by the roadside, waiting for the speeding cars to pass.
But the approaching car, instead of rushing past, slowed to a gradual halt as it drew closer. A half-window rolled down, reflecting a pale, frail silhouette.
In the dream, Cheng Yan looked sideways. She stood a little distance from that low-key, luxurious car. The torrential rain poured down, forming an uncrossable curtain between them. Someone in a black suit came over and handed her an umbrella.
The umbrella ribs were cold, but holding it shut out the heavy rain. Cheng Yan’s vision gradually cleared.
A quiet, pallid face, exuding frailty and an extreme allure, was etched deep into her eyes.
But the next second, the car window rolled up, cutting off her distant gaze, as if cutting off all possibility for further portrayal.
The expensive car drove away, the ground briefly rippling before settling as if nothing had ever come.
Cheng Yan, holding the gifted umbrella, was left alone by the roadside.
The rain poured heavily, and she stood there, slender and isolated.
After waking up, coupled with the light rain that had fallen past midnight, her nose seemed to still catch the dampness of the rain. An irritable emotion surged up. Cheng Yan restrained herself from rolling out of bed and leaving the dorm—the dorm doors had long been locked.
But she couldn’t fall back asleep for a while. She played on her phone for a bit before finally brewing enough drowsiness to fall back asleep.
So annoying.
Thinking of the orange cat’s double-standard behavior, Cheng Yan closed her eyes expressionlessly and fell into a deep sleep.
