HCKSAB ~ 05

Chapter – 05

The work week was finally over, and the weekend had arrived.

Still no word from the cat’s owner.

Shao Sui, from a meter away, used the backscratcher to scratch under Mimi’s chin, his tone lazy. “He wouldn’t have abandoned you, would he?”

The Great Cat King pretended not to understand and couldn’t be bothered to respond.

Over the past few days, the relationship between the one human and one cat had drawn much closer. Mainly because Mimi’s front leg was fractured, wrapped in bandages and slung, so there were many spots it couldn’t reach to groom, and the backscratcher had proved invaluable.

Of course, Shao Sui didn’t really care whether the relationship was good or not.

He was going to send this cat away sooner or later anyway.

Most of Mimi’s injuries had healed, though it still had to keep taking medicine for its liver damage from the poisoning, and the bandages on its fractured leg couldn’t be removed yet—probably another ten or so days.

At any rate, it was getting smoother and smoother at jumping up onto the bookshelf.

Fortunately, it was fairly polite. Apart from the far-right grid on the second-to-last row, it hardly ever jumped anywhere else. Its activity area was limited to the litter box, the food dish, and the floor-to-ceiling window.

Shao Sui was also gradually getting the hang of scratching the cat, mastering the right amount of pressure. Mimi was so comfortable it started to let itself go, resting its chin on the backscratcher, its eyes narrowing more and more, unconsciously letting out a rumbling purr.

At first, Shao Sui thought he’d heard wrong. While scratching, he discreetly picked up his phone and recorded the sound, then sent it to Dr. Ren: It sounds like there’s phlegm in its throat. Could it have a respiratory condition like bronchitis?

Dr. Ren replied with six dots: ……

He probably really wanted to ask if this cat was even Shao Sui’s.

Dr. Ren: That’s purring. It means happy and comfortable, not a disease.

Shao Sui was relieved.

Good. That saved him from having to spend more money.

“Your fur grows way too slowly,” Shao Sui said. “Not very attractive.”

Though once it all grew back, it might shed even more, but at least it would look symmetrical.

Shao Sui withdrew the backscratcher, and Mimi, caught off guard, couldn’t support itself on its fractured front paw and flopped straight onto the ground.

The cat looked up, staring at him darkly.

“Oh dear,” the culprit said, playing innocent. “How did you fall? Three legs and you’re still less steady than my two.”

Just you wait, Great Cat King!

Humiliated, Mimi refused to admit it had fallen and lay on the ground, nonchalantly licking its paw.

Shao Sui kindly reminded it, “You’re licking the bandage.”

Furious and embarrassed, Mimi scrambled up and swiped at Shao Sui’s leg. It looked fierce, but with his lounge pants in the way, it was just a feint—no damage done.

Male humans were all no good!

This cat had such expressive features.

Almost without thinking, Shao Sui swiped open his camera and snapped a few crisp shots. By the time he realized what he was doing, his photo album was already full of cat pictures.

“When did you take so many photos… Your phone must be infected with a virus.”

Shao Sui tapped open the search bar and typed in: how to make a cat’s fur grow faster, because it looks too scraggly right now.

Baidu’s answer was: feed it fish oil and egg yolks.

Easy. Both of those are cheap.

Shao Sui found the app that liked pushing cat posts to him the most, put together a simple brand guide, and then opened the orange-colored shopping app to buy the fish oil netizens had recommended.

Less than three hundred yuan, enough for two months—more cost-effective than canned food.

As for egg yolks, he already had those at home. He didn’t like eating them anyway, so from now on, whenever he boiled an egg in the morning, he’d just peel out the yolk and give it to the little creature.

He was about to put down his phone when his colleague Cheng Ke messaged: How’s the cat?

Shao Sui didn’t understand the enthusiasm of pet owners, but he still replied right away: Just purred at me.

Teacher Cheng: It let its guard down with you that fast? Calico cats really do have such good tempers.

Shao Sui: Yeah, it really likes being scratched, sticks close.

Teacher Cheng: If you’re planning to keep it long-term, you should take it to get its vaccine antibodies tested. If it doesn’t have any, you’ll need to get it vaccinated again.

Shao Sui: Not planning to.

Next line: How much?

Teacher Cheng: …Are you bipolar? Vaccine prices have gone up these past two years. Three shots cost about four or five hundred.

Shao Sui: How long does it cover?

Teacher Cheng: One year, then you just need one booster each year after that.

Shao Sui: Having a cat is such a hassle.

Teacher Cheng: Your Mimi is already pretty good. My blue-and-white cat was also a stray, abandoned by someone. After I brought it home, it hid under the bed for a whole month before it went from hissing at me on sight to barely letting me touch it.

Shao Sui: Oh.

Mi Mi was lying on the floor, using the cat bed as a backrest, lounging there leisurely watching the scenery.

Shao Sui took a photo and sent it to Cheng Ke, making sure to turn off the shutter sound—otherwise the cat would turn its head, looking at him with that delicate, pampered expression but pretending to be fierce.

It was too funny.

Teacher Cheng: …

Teacher Cheng: You’re showing off, aren’t you.

Shao Sui: Don’t misunderstand, that wasn’t my intention.

Shao Sui didn’t tell Cheng Ke that he’d changed the cat’s name to a homophone, Mi Mi, for fear she’d think he planned to keep it long-term.

Keep a cat? In his next life, maybe.

Every day it shed a few hairs on the floor—imagine how bad it would be once all the shaved fur grew back.

Shao Sui brushed the cat aside and used the lint roller he’d bought yesterday to clean up the fur.

Maybe he should buy a vacuum cleaner.

Before, when there was no cat and he cleaned every day, he never needed one.

Shao Sui washed his hands, disinfected them, and started cooking.

He ate simply by himself—made a rice noodle dish with cilantro and beef, and simultaneously boiled a plain egg in a small pot.

Shao Sui never ate anywhere except at the table. He separately peeled out the egg yolk and walked toward the study. As soon as he entered, he felt something snag at him.

He looked down. By the door crouched a sneaky cat.

The funniest part was that because its left front leg was fractured, whenever it tried to trip someone and failed, it would end up flat on the ground, sprawled out pathetically.

Mi Mi pretended to act dignified as it stood up, brushed against Shao Sui’s calf, and turned away, as if nothing had happened.

Shao Sui: “…”

That cat was trying to trip him just now, wasn’t it.

He crumbled the egg yolk into the cat bowl and said casually, “After you eat, come out with me.”

The cat definitely understood.

Because its back stiffened.

It ate a few bites of yolk and licked some kibble, as if to say: I’m not that much of a spendthrift—kibble is passable too.

His Majesty the Cat had not actually chosen this servant.

It was just that although his home was small, it was very clean, and he cleaned its litter box twice a day—which was very helpful for recovery.

Its body hadn’t fully healed yet, and it wasn’t yet time to explore the vast outside world.

At two in the afternoon, the reluctant Mi Mi was brought out by Shao Sui and taken to a pet hospital—not the one where Dr. Ren worked. Since he wouldn’t even buy the cat canned food, Shao Sui didn’t want to spend money there for now.

Shao Sui weighed the cat first—it had gained 0.5 jin, now 4.8 jin, still too skinny.

Turns out it was just a checkup.

Mi Mi relaxed, bracing its body as the doctor felt its bones, but when the doctor tried to take advantage, it suddenly broke free. Since when could just anyone touch His Majesty the Cat’s belly?

“This calico is actually a male!” the doctor exclaimed in surprise. “So gorgeous—looks like a little female cat.”

Mi Mi shot him a look: You’re the female cat.

“Gorgeous? It’s passable, I guess.” Shao Sui wasn’t impressed. “When I brought it home, I didn’t know cats could have fleas. Can fleas survive off the cat?”

He’d seen a short video about this while eating lunch and immediately lost his appetite. Just thinking about fleas everywhere in the house gave him a headache.

The doctor said, “Fleas generally don’t leave their host—at most, they’ll jump from the cat onto you.”

“…” Better not have said that.

“If you’re not itchy or breaking out in red rashes, it probably doesn’t have fleas,” the doctor said. “But just to be safe, you should do a deworming treatment. Even if your home is very clean, you should still do it every two or three months going forward.”

He asked about the price—internal and external deworming combined came to under two hundred.

Acceptable.

The doctor suggested, “Let’s do the internal deworming too—there might be parasites in its stomach.”

Before the doctor even finished speaking, Mi Mi jumped from the table to the stool, then from the stool to the floor, and hobbled off.

Unfortunately, before it reached the door, the doctor caught it: “Good kitty, it won’t hurt.”

Mi Mi resisted fiercely, hissing at the doctor.

Back when it was free, it had lived near a traditional Chinese medicine clinic for a while, and an old human man there often said: “Medicine is always three parts poison.”

It bathed itself every day—how could it possibly have fleas!

These two-legged creatures were just trying to poison it!

The doctor couldn’t hold it down, so he shoved it straight into Shao Sui’s arms: “You hold it, I’ll give it the medicine.”

Both man and cat froze.

Shao Sui’s whole body broke out in goosebumps, as if what he was holding wasn’t a cat but a clump of filth. When the doctor tore open the deworming package and looked up again, he saw Shao Sui staring at him with an expression that said he wanted to kill him.

The doctor was baffled: “Are its claws digging into your skin?”

“No.” Shao Sui closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and kept brainwashing himself: the clothes are already dirty, there’s nowhere to change right now, just get through this, finish the deworming and go home.

He pulled out one hand and smacked the cat on the rump: “Behave. It’s not poison—it’s for your own good.”

When Shao Sui was serious, his voice was deep, with an indescribable texture—like thick hot spring water, very soothing to the ears.

His Majesty the Cat twitched his ears and stopped struggling.

The doctor parted the fur on the back of the cat’s neck: “See? So well-behaved in its owner’s arms.”

Mi Mi rested his chin on Shao Sui’s firm forearm and let out a hiss: Your whole family has an owner!

Too bad humans couldn’t understand his mockery.

Shao Sui asked: “It’s been eating a lot lately—almost two cans a day—but it never drinks water. Is that a problem?”

“Canned food already contains a lot of moisture,” the doctor said. “It’s not a big issue, but it’s best to find a way to get it to drink some—like soaking freeze-dried treats in water.”

“Alright, I’ll buy some later.”

The external deworming was done, but the internal deworming pill—the cat absolutely refused to take it. Mi Mi buried his head straight into the crook of Shao Sui’s arm, not giving the doctor any chance to pry his mouth open.

Apparently feeling it wasn’t safe enough, Mi Mi nuzzled in deeper, burying his head further.

“…” It was like a soft, fine-tipped brush poked Shao Sui right in the heart.

He held the cat with one arm and took the medicine from the doctor with the other: “I’ll take it home and give it to him.”

“No problem.”

“Do you have a cleaner cat room here?” Shao Sui said. “I have some errands to run outside. I’ll pick him up later.”

“Oh, yes, we do.”

Mi Mi instantly stiffened, clinging tightly to Shao Sui’s arm.

This male human wasn’t planning to abandon him, was he!

Mi Mi had seen many such abandoned cats through pet hospital windows before—clueless, adorably foolish ones that never learned to assert their place at home, and ended up boarded because their caretaker’s partner couldn’t stand them. As time passed, they never got to go back.

“Do you have alcohol wipes?”

“…Yes.”

Although the cat room looked spotless, Shao Sui was still a bit put off. He held the cat with one hand and wiped everything down with the other, only putting the cat inside after making sure there was no oversight.

But Mi Mi clung to his arm and absolutely refused to let go.

“My sleeve’s about to stretch out of shape.” Shao Sui pried open the cat’s claws—a three-legged cat was no match for a strong, able-bodied male human. He accidentally touched the cat’s paw pads… Mm, rather bouncy.

Pretending to accidentally squeeze them a couple times, Shao Sui then promised: “I’ll be back to pick you up in an hour.”

Only then did Mi Mi relax his guard, his round eyes fixed intently on Shao Sui.

If Shao Sui broke his word, he’d never trust a male human again!

Shao Sui went to the hospital next door—the one primarily for humans.

Today was the day of his fourth rabies vaccine shot.

–

Mi Mi lay in the spot closest to the door, staring intently at the clock across the room.

It was almost an hour!

Just as the hour hand was about to jump to the next number, Mi Mi abruptly stood up—but didn’t see the male human at the door.

Liar.

He turned his head away, back facing the door, and started trembling.

From anger.

No one knew how much time had passed when he caught a familiar human scent. His ears perked up, but his body didn’t move. The glass door behind him was opened by the human, and a voice sounded: “Let’s go. Home.”

Mi Mi ignored him.

His Majesty the Cat had a temper, after all.

Shao Sui instinctively reached out, but paused when his hand touched the cat’s fur—he had just washed and disinfected his hands at the hospital.

But these clothes were already dirty.

Holding him one more time wouldn’t make a difference.

Shao Sui convinced himself and, with a clear conscience, scooped Mi Mi into his arms.

The cat put up a token struggle, twice.

Shao Sui found it amusing: “What are you mad about? It hasn’t even been an hour.”

He’d left at 3:30, and now it was only 4:20—just fifty minutes. The doctor had told him to stay for thirty minutes of observation before leaving, but thinking that Mi Mi was a rather sensitive cat, and that if he did have a concept of time he’d probably be furious, Shao Sui had only observed for twenty minutes before coming out, doing his best to be a temporary caretaker who kept his promises.

Mi Mi remained aloof. Mi Mi didn’t want to listen: It had clearly passed the next hour mark—still lying.

“Such a hot temper. No wonder your owner didn’t come looking for you.”

His Majesty the Cat’s claws were getting itchy.

Shao Sui greeted the doctor and headed outside, thinking as he walked: How can he be so soft?

Mi Mi’s softness wasn’t a round, plump softness—it was more like his very bones were boneless, melting into a puddle, somehow bringing to mind the phrase “warm, fragrant, soft jade.”

Shao Sui gave Mi Mi’s belly a rub: “You’ve got a little belly even though you’re this skinny?”

Mi Mi froze all over, looking up in disbelief—not only was this male human late, he was also copping a feel down there!!

Some things could be tolerated, but not this!

His Majesty the Cat executed a classic koi-flip and landed two solid bap-baps right on Shao Sui’s face!