The cat had run away.
Cheng Lin’s worst nightmare had come true, leaving his mind blank.
By the time he snapped out of it and rushed outside, the weather was beautiful, with the sun shining brightly. But there was no trace of the cat.
“Maimai—”
At first, Cheng Lin held onto some hope, thinking Maimai might be hiding somewhere. He searched every patch of grass in the complex, starting with the flower beds nearest his building. He combed through the garden, the basketball court, and even the gym. But there was no sign of his cat anywhere.
In his frantic search, he made too much noise, disturbing a few stray cats stationed in the complex. His reputation among the local feline population quickly took a hit.
The winter sun set early, and soon the light began to fade. The hope he had been clinging to started to wane as his nerves were stretched to their limit. The situation felt increasingly dire, like everything was spiraling out of control.
Knowing the police would be of no help, he turned to the property management and checked the security footage. He also called Yuan Jiaming and Jin Li to assist him.
The camera angles weren’t great. All they could see was an orange cat darting out of the building and vanishing into the bushes, just like in his prophetic dream.
It was like a drop of water disappearing into the sea. There was no way to find it.
Cheng Lin was so anxious that his hand shook as he repeatedly dragged the progress bar back and forth, asking, “What happens next? Where’s the next camera?”
“Not every area has surveillance… The spots behind the building are mostly just grass, so there’s no footage to review,” the property manager explained, clearly feeling awkward about the situation.
“Could he have been scared by something?” Yuan Jiaming speculated, unaware of the full context. “Otherwise, why would Maimai suddenly rush out like that for no reason?”
“I hugged him when I got home today.” Cheng Lin couldn’t explain the real reason, so he just closed his eyes and said, “He immediately bit me and ran out through the door that wasn’t fully closed.”
Jin Li analyzed, “Maybe he was freaked out by the scent of the stray cats on you? My cat wouldn’t stop sniffing me when I got home today.”
That might be true, but it also might not be.
Maimai wasn’t just any ordinary kitten, and Cheng Lin had no idea how to explain that.
In fact, he wasn’t even sure why the cat had run off in such a rage. Was it really just the smell of the stray cats?
By 8 PM, the professional cat-finding team Cheng Lin had contacted finally arrived. There were five of them—experienced, well-equipped, and expensive.
The team leader listened to Cheng Lin’s account and reassured him, “In most cases, house cats don’t go far. It’s likely still in the complex, just lost and hiding. They’re usually too scared to come out during the day. Now that it’s dark, it might come out to look for food. There’s a good chance we’ll find it.”
Cheng Lin, exhausted from running around all day, replied, “Maimai is smart. You can’t judge his actions by what a normal cat would do.”
The longer the search dragged on, the more uncertain he felt. If Maimai wanted to come home, he wouldn’t get lost. The fact that they still hadn’t found him left only one possibility: the cat had run far away and didn’t want to return.
But in such a big world, where was he supposed to find a cat?
While the professional team continued their search, Jin Li brought back takeout for three, and they finally had dinner.
As Yuan Jiaming unpacked the food, he casually asked, “Where’s your cousin? Did he leave?”
Cheng Lin looked up silently, his expression hard to read. In the end, he just nodded.
He opened his phone, and the screen was still on the photo album he had been looking at. He pulled up a high-resolution, full-body photo of Maimai and shared it with the cat-finding team for reference.
An orange cat, one-year-old, wearing a lock charm around its neck. Round face, round eyes, and responds to the name Maimai.
The bite mark on Cheng Lin’s hand had long since faded. It was the first time Maimai had bitten him—he must have been so angry. But even then, he hadn’t bitten hard enough to draw blood.
The meal was tasteless. Afterward, the three of them grabbed flashlights and continued searching around the neighborhood, gradually expanding their search to the nearby streets.
The professional team left no corner unchecked, carefully searching for four hours. But when their time was up, they found nothing.
It was past midnight. Cheng Lin could only pay the team and send Yuan Jiaming and Jin Li home.
Everyone treated this as “Cheng Lin’s cat is lost.” No matter how much his friends cared, they couldn’t truly understand what he was feeling. Even the one directly involved couldn’t begin to describe one percent of his emotions.
It was a sleepless night.
Cheng Lin was still standing in the entryway when his phone lit up. Jin Li had sent over a new contact and then immediately called him. “Try contacting these people tomorrow. Xiao Mi just recommended them to me. They’re supposed to be amazing.”
Cheng Lin felt a knot in his chest. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he also couldn’t afford to waste time. He couldn’t wait until morning, so he made the call, thinking it was worth a try—and surprisingly, it connected.
A young woman on the other end listened to his situation and said, “Got it. We’ll head over right away. What’s the address?”
At 2 AM, Cheng Lin went downstairs to meet them.
He expected a team similar to the last one, but to his surprise, it was just one girl, carrying a beautiful Maine Coon1
cat.
Cheng Lin immediately felt skeptical. “Just you?”
The girl, unfazed, started giving instructions. “I’ll need a photo of your cat and a few items with its scent—clothes, toys, anything will do. My cat gets scared easily, so you can’t come with us while we search.”
Cheng Lin agreed to everything and led the girl and her cat upstairs.
He sent her a photo of Maimai and handed over some clothes the cat had dropped when he ran out. But he couldn’t shake the unease in his heart.
After all, there were no longer any traces of cat Maimai around the house. He could only hope the scent left behind by the human and cat would be the same.
The girl calmly took the clothes, cradled her cat, and went into the bathroom. After a while, she came out and walked straight out the door without looking at Cheng Lin.
As agreed, Cheng Lin waited anxiously in the living room.
After searching all day, this was the first time he had a moment to sit quietly at home.
He couldn’t remember what life was like before he had the cat. The silence in the room was unbearable. Maimai should have been in the living room watching TV right now.
Cheng Lin stood up and walked into Maimai’s room. He turned on the light. Maimai’s bed was as messy as ever.
His phone lay uncharged on the bedside table, and the bed was cluttered with random items: a small blanket, a teddy bear, a few unopened cans of cat food, one of Cheng Lin’s jackets…and a thick red envelope.
On the floor was an empty backpack, the same one Maimai had used the last time he went out to look for a job.
The scene made Cheng Lin think of someone packing their bags. Maybe Maimai’s departure wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment decision.
Finally, Cheng Lin set aside his concerns about privacy and picked up Maimai’s phone from the bedside table, which didn’t have a password, hoping to find some clue about what had happened.
There weren’t many apps on Maimai’s phone, just a few that Cheng Lin had installed for him. When he opened WeChat, Cheng Lin was the only contact in the chat list.
The last time they had messaged each other was before the holiday. Maimai had sent a voice message asking when Cheng Lin would be home. But Cheng Lin had been too drunk to respond properly.
Now, Cheng Lin replayed that voice message several times before continuing to search through the phone.
In the chat history, there were more green bubbles from Maimai, who was using the default avatar, while Cheng Lin, who had set Maimai’s picture as his avatar, had fewer white bubbles in reply.
Cheng Lin had a habit of only responding to useful messages, like when Maimai asked a question. Occasionally, he would initiate a message, like asking if Maimai wanted salmon poke for lunch.
Maimai used to send a lot of random emojis, but over time, he sent them less and less. Cheng Lin’s replies remained as simple as always.
There weren’t many clues to be found in the chat app. After thinking for a moment, Cheng Lin guessed that Maimai might have used the browser more frequently.
Sure enough, when he opened Safari, it was still on the last page Maimai had viewed: a site for online courses. He had been watching a math lesson.
Cheng Lin’s heart raced as he hesitantly clicked on the browser history. A pang of guilt struck him for invading Maimai’s privacy, but he hoped to find some clues.
The search history was extensive, so much so that scrolling down made the screen lag slightly.
Maimai’s curiosity seemed boundless, his thoughts jumping from one topic to another. He had asked the internet all sorts of innocent questions, like how much a helicopter costs, how to solve a linear equation in one variable, and how to get better at math.
There was even a search from the night Cheng Lin got drunk: “What to do if someone drinks too much?”
He was so eager to learn.
Cheng Lin knew that Maimai wasn’t great at typing and preferred using voice input. The image of the cat seriously asking these questions into his phone made Cheng Lin chuckle.
But the smile quickly faded. Cheng Lin found a series of searches related to job hunting. The cat had thoroughly researched different jobs, even asking what kind of work someone without a degree or ID could do.
Why was he so determined to find a job?
Cheng Lin kept scrolling, and soon he found something that came close to an answer.
Amid the common questions, most of Maimai’s searches revolved around something else.
“Why are mixed-breed cats not popular?”
“How can I turn back into a cat?”
“What if my master doesn’t like me anymore?”
…
After becoming human, all of Maimai’s insecurities seemed condensed into questions he never voiced to Cheng Lin.
The cat had a lot of concerns, each one building on the last. Maybe because he couldn’t find a satisfying answer, he kept asking similar questions repeatedly.
He was clearly troubled, yet determined to find a solution.
“How can I make Cheng Lin like me again?”
Cheng Lin scrolled silently, but there were no older records.
This was the first question Maimai had asked after learning how to use the search engine.
Before looking at this phone, Cheng Lin had guiltily reflected on his own actions. Perhaps he shouldn’t have watched videos of other cats. Maybe Maimai had misunderstood, or perhaps the scent of stray cats had upset him.
Now, he finally realized that Maimai had been fully aware of his initial resistance all along and had remembered every joke he had made.
Maimai knew everything, sensed everything, but never said a word.
And Cheng Lin had foolishly believed that Maimai’s distance meant he didn’t care anymore. That the bite and the running away were out of anger.
How could he not care?
Cheng Lin’s world was filled with family, friends, work, hobbies, and an orange cat named Maimai.
But Maimai’s world was as simple and clean as his messaging app—there was only Cheng Lin.
What kind of hope had Maimai clung to while searching for a job? What was going through his mind as he looked up those questions?
Where could he be now? Was he eating well? Sleeping well?
…Cheng Lin hadn’t treated Maimai well at all.
He lifted his head in a daze, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the bag Maimai had left behind. Tears welled up and spilled over.
Author’s note:
Tears are a man’s best dowry.
