HCKSAB ~ 06

Chapter – 06

Shao Sui pinched the cat’s paw pad, holding it away from his face. “You’re a spy sent by Director Cao, aren’t you? You’re practically trying to ruin my face.”

But for humans, a kitten’s paw-swipes without claws could only be called a reward.

Fierce in appearance, yet completely harmless.

Shao Sui pacified her half-heartedly. “Alright, don’t be mad. I’ll open a can for you when we get home.”

Mi Mi tried to pull her paw back, but failed.

This particular human seemed to have forgotten to let go—all the way to the parking lot, he kept holding her paw pad.

“Meow!”

Her Majesty the Cat tried to remind Shao Sui.

Holding it like this made her feel very insecure.

“What’s wrong?” Shao Sui looked at his hand joined with the cat’s and suddenly realized, “Oh, you’ve got a broken leg—I’m just helping you keep your balance.”

What a devious human.

Shao Sui had driven out today and still needed to stop by the 4S shop later. The car wasn’t actually dirty—it had been covered with a dust cover during the six months it sat in the underground garage—but since it hadn’t been driven in so long, it was safer to have it checked over just in case.

He opened the trunk, intending to put Mi Mi into the carrier.

However, Mi Mi’s anger had not yet subsided, and she refused to comply, arching her body against the entrance, impossible to stuff in no matter what.

“Cats can’t ride in the passenger seat,” Shao Sui threatened. “The police uncles and aunties will catch you.”

Mi Mi kicked him with her hind leg.

In the end, the human yielded to Her Majesty the Cat’s tyranny: “Just this once.”

Shao Sui grabbed two pet pee pads, laid one on the passenger seat and one on the center console, then set the cat in his arms down: “Nowhere else allowed.”

As soon as Mi Mi sat down, she began licking her belly where the human had touched her.

What “little tummy”? This was the primordial pouch that every cat has! Very sophisticated—equivalent to a portable fridge, used to store excess food intake for times of need.

What did this foolish male human know?

Seeing how disgusted she was, Shao Sui couldn’t resist being mischievous and reached out to scoop her belly again.

But once again, he was met with two swift bops.

“Ow!”

Whether it was because of eating too much canned food or good genetics, Mi Mi was recovering quickly, and her voice no longer had that raspy smoker’s tone. Now it sounded coquettish—even her anger was delicate.

Shao Sui didn’t rush to drive. First, he searched online for why cats don’t like having their bellies touched.

One highly upvoted comment said this: Touching a kitten’s belly is like sticking your hand down someone’s pants. If it’s an acquaintance, they might just punch you and be done with it. If it’s a stranger, they might call the cops and report you for sexual harassment.

So what?

Can a cat call the police?

With lightning speed, Shao Sui reached out and rubbed Mi Mi’s little belly again.

Mi Mi, who had just finished smoothing down her fur, was absolutely furious. She twisted her head around and glared at Shao Sui.

Shao Sui couldn’t help but laugh: “What are you being all clingy for?”

With her legs spread so wide, wasn’t she deliberately luring a human to touch her?

If Her Majesty the Cat knew what Shao Sui was thinking, she’d probably scratch his face off: she was facing away from the driver’s seat!

Shao Sui drove to the 4S shop. His cleanliness obsession still reminded him to get the car washed—a few cat hairs had fallen on the driver’s seat.

And since he had held the cat, he was now in a “dirty” state himself, not fit to sit in a freshly washed car. So he told the 4S staff: “Wash it first. I’ll come back later to inspect.”

“…Okay.” Wherever Shao Sui went, people didn’t easily forget him. The 4S employees all remembered him. “Mr. Shao got a cat?”

Every time they washed Shao Sui’s car, they had to be extra meticulous because he had OCD.

Yet today, this severely OCD customer was actually holding a cat.

Shao Sui answered irrelevantly: “Too clingy, had no choice but to hold it. Quite a hassle. I suggest you don’t get one.”

Employee: “…”

Did I ask you that?

Her Majesty the Cat was even angrier, letting out an “ow” and frantically kicking at Shao Sui’s arm.

*You’re* the clingy one!

The mechanic said: “Has your car not been driven for a long time? There’s an issue with the tire pressure—might need to replace the tires.”

“Okay, replace them.”

Shao Sui was easygoing today and didn’t argue about whether the tires really needed replacing or if the employee was just upselling.

He hailed a taxi on the street. Before getting in, he first took out a portable disinfectant wipe and cleaned the seat cushion. The driver said exasperatedly: “My car’s spotless. Hurry up—you can’t park here for long.”

Shao Sui sincerely apologized: “Sorry, I have OCD.”

People with OCD always do many things that others deem unnecessary when they’re out, sometimes even causing inconvenience to others. To some extent, this is an illness.

So whenever Shao Sui apologized or explained, he always added the word “disorder” at the end.

He knew he had a problem, but he couldn’t help it.

Disinfecting the house twice a day seriously affected his life, especially for someone in a profession as busy as teaching. During class, if he suddenly remembered that some corner of the house hadn’t been properly cleaned, it would gnaw at him like torture.

Mi Mi was back in the carrier, but still in Shao Sui’s arms.

The driver kept glancing in the rearview mirror: “You’ve got OCD and you still keep a cat? Can you stand it when the house gets dirty and smelly?”

Shao Sui lifted his eyelids slightly: “Whether a house smells or not depends on the person, not the cat.”

Even if a pet makes a huge mess, as long as the owner can’t stand it, they’ll clean it up. Those who can stand it will let the house get dirty.

If you like cleanliness but don’t want to clean, then don’t get a pet.

It’s the same as having children—it adds a lot of unnecessary worries and responsibilities.

Although Shao Sui didn’t keep a cat and didn’t plan on having kids, he still felt that if you choose to walk that path, you have to shoulder the necessary responsibilities, rather than passing the blame onto children or pets.

Besides, cats are somewhat different from dogs—they are naturally clean creatures. For example, Mi Mi licked herself eight hundred times a day.

Yesterday, Shao Sui had been very worried: this damn cat ate canned food every day, all that rich meat and fish, and didn’t brush her teeth—wouldn’t her breath get all over her fur when she licked herself?

So he pinched his nose and leaned in to smell her—and it was actually fragrant.

Very miraculous.

The driver was still worried: “She’s not going to pee in my car, is she?”

People who don’t have cats always worry about things like this.

Her Majesty the Cat, through the gaps in the carrier, glared unhappily at the driver. Unfortunately, she was too pretty-faced, which only invited the driver’s winks and grins.

Her Majesty the Cat coldly stepped back a few paces. *Watch the road, you.*

“Usually she doesn’t pee randomly,” Shao Sui said precisely. “There’s a pee pad in the carrier. Even if she does, it won’t get on your car.”

He used to have a lot of stereotypes about cats and dogs too—like that they’d relieve themselves everywhere. But in reality, aside from shedding, Mi Mi hadn’t caused him any trouble. Except for needing canned food every day—that was a real money burner.

But even the shedding wasn’t as bad as Shao Sui had initially imagined. Just a stray hair here and there—maybe it wasn’t shedding season yet.

Usually, Mi Mi would stay quietly in the study. Occasionally she’d try to sneak out after him, but if caught, she’d nonchalantly retreat as if nothing had happened.

And she never meowed randomly—never disturbed the neighbors or interfered with Shao Sui’s work. Only when teased into anger would she let out a couple of yowls.

“That’s true too.” The driver laughed heartily. “If she really does pee, you’ll be the one suffering first—it’ll get on your pants. When you get out, people might even think you’re the one who wet yourself.”

“…” Shao Sui, with his OCD, instantly broke out in goosebumps, nearly suffocating from the driver’s words.

He still remembered Cheng Ke saying in the office that cat urine was pungent—once it got on a sofa or bedding, it was almost impossible to wash out completely.

Maybe his legs would get marinated in the smell too.

“Meow!” Mi Mi, through the carrier door, angrily swiped a paw at him.

“…” Shao Sui didn’t even dare to take a deep breath—he could already smell it. It took him a while to calm down and stop paying attention to the driver.

Back home, he immediately ordered takeout delivery—cat toothbrush, toothpaste, as well as waterless grooming gloves and towels.

When the delivery arrived, he carried the cat into the bathroom.

Over the past few days, Shao Sui had learned a lot of new information from push notifications on various apps—for example, cats are much more afraid of water than dogs, and they’re terrified of loud hairdryers.

Before washing her, Shao Sui tested the hairdryer first. Mi Mi indeed shrank alertly into the corner, staring at him fearfully.

Looking closely, her body was even trembling slightly.

Shao Sui turned off the hairdryer and softened. “It won’t hurt you. It’s just for drying your fur. The weather isn’t as hot as before—if you don’t get dried, you’ll get sick.”

The cat stared at him with those brown jewel-like eyes, as if she didn’t understand.

Shao Sui said patiently, “Just a simple wash. No pouring water.”

The cat’s cowering expression made it impossible to be harsh.

Shao Sui couldn’t find a reason to be harsh anyway—after all, he was the one insisting on bathing a cat with a broken leg, which was quite unfeeling.

So he laid out the terms: “After the wash, you can roam freely. Except for the sofa and my bedroom—the living room and balcony are all yours.”

“Meow once if you understand.”

Just as Shao Sui thought he was being ridiculous—what was the point of saying all this to a cat—and was about to give up, Mi Mi actually opened her mouth: “Meow~”

The meow was different from her usual feisty cute tone. Since she was still scared, it sounded especially delicate, no different from a whine.

Afraid Shao Sui might not understand, she even proactively touched the towel.

“…”

Coincidence, right?

She understood all that?

Shao Sui didn’t think too much about it. He closed the bathroom door and took off his shirt to prevent it from being ruined by too much cat hair during the bath.

The mirror reflected Shao Sui’s lean, fit upper body—well-proportioned pectoral muscles connected to jade-like abdominal muscles. But soon, the cat blocked the view.

For the first time, Shao Sui scratched under the cat’s chin with his finger. “It won’t hurt. I’ll be gentle.”

He lifted the cat onto the sink, scratched her for a while, and only after she started purring a little did he begin using the waterless grooming gloves to give her a rubdown. She wasn’t very dirty—just slightly yellowish.

Then he switched to a new pair of gloves and rubbed her down again. This time, the gloves came out as clean as if they’d never been used—very pristine.

Satisfied, he patted the cat’s rear. It was clear Mi Mi liked it—her tail perked up like a ragged feather duster.

Shao Sui said, “One more pass with the towel.”

The waterless grooming gloves claimed to have clean ingredients, but Shao Sui wasn’t convinced—he felt it was safer to go over everything with plain water. Mi Mi licked herself so much—if she got poisoned again, she might actually die.

But as soon as he said that, the cat’s tail drooped, tucked between her legs.

The towel was wet.

Mi Mi struggled to jump down. Shao Sui had no choice but to scoop the cat into his arms to soothe her. “It’s okay, this is clean water. It’s not like the rain outside—it’s warm. Don’t you want to try?”

Mi Mi gradually calmed down, lying still in his arms and even burrowing her head into the crook of his elbow.

Without the barrier of clothing, Mi Mi felt even softer in his arms. This almost clingy gesture was something no human could resist.

For the first time in his life, Shao Sui said this word to a living being: “Good girl.”

He first wiped the back of Mi Mi’s neck. Seeing that the little thing didn’t resist much, he continued to wipe her entire back, then her tail and forehead.

After finishing the back, he turned Mi Mi over: “Almost done, just a tiny bit left.”

Shao Sui barely touched her little belly—just wiped her chest fur.

The cat was already nervous—touching her private areas might cause a stress reaction.

“Meow!”

“Almost there.”

Mi Mi was furious.

You said no pouring water, but then you used a wet towel! You said a simple wash, so why do you keep squeezing my paws!

She wasn’t a human toy.

Shao Sui pried open the kitten’s mouth: “Time to brush your teeth.”

Mi Mi bit down on Shao Sui’s finger: “Ow!”

You didn’t say anything about brushing teeth earlier!

Shao Sui could tell the cat wouldn’t actually bite down, so he just followed the curve of her mouth and felt around: “Nice teeth. Pretty straight.”

And very white too—but even white teeth couldn’t escape the fate of being brushed.

Shao Sui pulled out his damp finger, squeezed some toothpaste onto the finger brush, but the furious Mi Mi broke free at that moment, twisted around, and bit down right on Shao Sui’s abs!

Shao Sui instinctively arched his body and tensed his core: “Let go!”

Mi Mi held on, a stubborn sound escaping from the corner of her mouth: “Mraow.”

Shao Sui went around behind and pinched the kitten’s balls: “Then let’s do this—hurt the enemy a thousand, lose eight hundred yourself.”