Wei Xicheng wrinkled his nose, shifting his arm that was firmly restrained. The humidity in the room was too heavy, the temperature a bit too high, and the faint smell from the floor made it hard for him to like the place.
“Let me go,” he said.
Yi Chengze, whose sense of smell was even keener, was already familiar with the scent Wei Xicheng had just detected after lying on the floor. What Yi Chengze noticed more was the little cat’s scent, now clinging to his “bed.”
The experience felt odd. Watching the small face pressed against the mat, Yi Chengze suddenly had the urge to curl up and sleep with the little cat. But he quickly dismissed the thought—it was impossible. Considering his size compared to this tiny thing, he might unintentionally suffocate the cat if he followed through. Best to abandon the idea.
With a loosened grip, Wei Xicheng, who hadn’t braced himself, collapsed onto the mat, his body making even more contact with the surface this time. Rolling over, he looked up at Yi Chengze, now standing at a distance that seemed unusually far.
“What do you even use this room for?” Wei Xicheng finally asked the question he’d been holding back. The room was far too strange. Even if it were a sparring room, it shouldn’t have clutter scattered on the floor. Apart from the obvious humidifiers on the walls, there were probably heating devices installed as well.
The whole room felt stifling. Though ventilation was decent, the room had only a small window. Now it was nighttime, and the lighting was fine, but Wei Xicheng was sure the room would need artificial light during the day as well.
Wealthy people really have eccentric tastes, huh? Judging by the high-end construction of this neighborhood, such a counterintuitive design was unlikely to be part of the original layout. This must have been the owner’s doing.
This guy definitely has some secrets. Wei Xicheng sat up, watching Yi Chengze and waiting for the “owner” to answer.
From Yi Chengze’s perspective, it was a little cat perched on his “bed,” blinking and staring at him with wide eyes.
He licked the corner of his lips, retracted most of his strength, and threw a light punch toward Wei Xicheng’s face.
Having already suffered from Yi Chengze’s strength, Wei Xicheng didn’t dare to block this time. He rolled twice on the mat, dodging the punch. Before he could get up, Yi Chengze, now half-kneeling on the mat, had already grabbed him by the neck.
Wei Xicheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “Are you insane?”
“The sparring isn’t over yet. Why are you surrendering early?” Even in this humid environment, Yi Chengze felt his throat dry. His fingers moved slightly, feeling the warm, fragile skin beneath them.
With his neck held tightly and one arm twisted behind his back, Wei Xicheng knelt on the mat, unable to see the expression on the man behind him. But even with just his tail, he could guess what kind of indecent thoughts this “repeat offender” was having.
“Fine, it’s over. You win. Now let me go,” Wei Xicheng said, turning his head slightly. He felt a faint breath brush against his neck, leaving a damp sensation for a fleeting moment.
What was that?
Unable to see, Wei Xicheng didn’t notice how the man’s pupils behind him darkened, narrowing into slits. Yi Chengze could feel the light sweat on the little cat’s skin under his palm, inhaling the scent that the cat continued to emit. This little cat demon had invaded his personal space, but instead of irritation, he found himself enjoying it—wanting the invasion to go deeper, more complete.
“What are you doing?”
Yi Chengze snapped back to reality, his eyes quickly returning to round human pupils. He couldn’t rush. Impatience would only make the prey wary and flee too early. Releasing his grip, he pulled Wei Xicheng to his feet.
“Sorry, got distracted for a moment.”
“Oh,” Wei Xicheng responded casually without pressing further. He stood up and walked toward the door. “Weren’t we going to paint? Let’s go.”
“You lost,” Yi Chengze said, taking a long stride to catch up.
“I know.”
“You shouldn’t go home with strangers so casually. It’s dangerous.”
…Why did that suddenly sound so familiar?
Wei Xicheng nodded seriously, his expression solemn. “You’re right. It’s very dangerous. Maybe I should leave now?”
“To paint.”
Watching the man’s retreating back, Wei Xicheng couldn’t help but chuckle. He glanced back at the strange room, a layer of doubt settling in his mind.
It was one thing in previous worlds, but why, in this one, could he—a demon capable of cultivation and transformation—be defeated by a mere human? Was it because he was a cat?
Wei Xicheng twitched his ears, suddenly realizing something was off.
Crap, his hat!
Reaching up, he found not only his hair but also two fluffy, upright ears.
Was Yi Chengze blind? Wei Xicheng turned to look, spotting his hat lying lonely on the floor. He hadn’t even noticed when it fell off. This meant Yi Chengze had definitely seen it. But strangely, he hadn’t screamed, panicked, or… Was this inexplicable love really that powerful?
Wei Xicheng put his hat back on and walked out the door, only to find Yi Chengze leaning lazily against the hallway wall. Seeing him come out, Yi Chengze glanced at his head and then, without a word, headed toward the study.
“Follow me.”
Neither of them mentioned the odd ears.
The study was worlds apart in style from the peculiar room. Though still a bit unconventional, it looked far more normal. The walls were painted in cool tones, and the room was sparsely furnished. A large computer screen sat on a desk, with the keyboard and mouse neatly arranged on the surface.
“Here?” Wei Xicheng pulled out the art supplies from his bag. Since it was the first lesson, he didn’t plan on teaching anything too advanced. He decided to start by introducing this rich, idle “husband” to some basic art tools.
“Mm.”
Wei Xicheng had been explaining for a while. When he looked up again, he noticed the man sitting across from him seemed completely distracted, staring blankly at his face instead of listening to his words.
Wei Xicheng waved a hand in front of him. “Pay attention! This is costing you 80 an hour.”
“Mm. Do you like playing games?”
“Huh? Yeah, I do.” But the abrupt change in topic was a bit jarring.
“Then let’s stop the lesson here today. Want to play a game?” Before Wei Xicheng could answer, Yi Chengze stepped forward, packed up the art supplies back into the bag, and pulled Wei Xicheng into the office chair. He powered up the computer.
Wei Xicheng checked the time. He had taught for an hour. Honestly, he was tempted. He did enjoy games, but in his previous world, he hadn’t even seen a console during those long years—it just wasn’t feasible. In this world, Lin Yang was so broke he could only wander around with a laptop, let alone buy a console for his fluffy companion.
“Alright, just one round, and then I’ll head home,” Wei Xicheng said, placing his paws on the mouse.
“Mm.”
Yi Chengze stood behind him, watching the little cat’s paws maneuver the mouse and keyboard. He had assumed the cat wouldn’t know how to play such games, thinking it would prefer yarn balls or feather toys.
As he thought about it, he startled himself with how ridiculous the idea was. He glanced at the cat’s hat, recalling the scene he had witnessed earlier in the bedroom—the little cat lying sideways on the bed, its messy hair framing two fluffy ears gently pressed against its head, soft and obedient.
At that moment, his first thought wasn’t about shedding fur. He had wanted to touch them. But he held himself back.
Walking down the street, Wei Xicheng couldn’t help but laugh when he thought about how Yi Chengze had insisted on seeing him off before he left.
This world might just be the most inexplicable one yet. They had only met two or three times, but it felt as if they were long-time friends, perfectly in sync.
As for his ears, after playing a couple of rounds of games, Wei Xicheng was so satisfied he didn’t even bother worrying about it. In any case, he firmly believed that his lover would never harm him. This belief stemmed from a feline instinct.
Wei Xicheng pulled out the red bill that Yi Chengze had “found” for him, hailed a cab, and went home quickly. If he guessed correctly, Lin Yang should be returning around this time. In the original storyline, Lin Yang was supposed to be sent home by Si Yongyi. After Wei Xicheng’s interference, he wondered if Si Yongyi would still show up.
By now, they had probably realized that no matter how hard they searched, they wouldn’t find any trace of him in their investigations.
Lin Yang’s rented apartment was in an older residential area. Every household piled their miscellaneous items in a corner of the complex, and the parking spaces were poorly planned. Wei Xicheng found a random spot, transformed into his cat form, and carried the art supplies back home through an open window under the cover of darkness.
The lights were off. After confirming that Lin Yang wasn’t home yet, Wei Xicheng put everything back in its place, leapt onto the bed, rolled around, and closed his eyes to nap. He had run around all day, sparred, and acted—it was exhausting.
Not long after, he heard the sound of a car door opening and closing downstairs. Wei Xicheng opened his eyes, his round cat pupils gleaming faintly in the dark.
With a graceful arc, he jumped onto the windowsill. As expected, only Lin Yang got out of the car this time. Si Yongyi, who was supposed to escort Lin Yang home, didn’t follow him upstairs.
Watching Lin Yang’s figure, Wei Xicheng felt his heart soften. It had only been two or three worlds, and he had already found his lover. His lover would certainly never let him starve, but he still didn’t want to stop meddling in Lin Yang’s affairs just yet.
Lin Yang, reeking of alcohol, quickly entered the apartment and opened the door. The first thing he did after coming in was look for his cat. Seeing the ball of fluff curled up on the windowsill, he finally relaxed.
“Fluffy, come here.” Lin Yang stretched out his hand, signaling for Wei Xicheng to jump over.
Wei Xicheng scratched his ear. With all that alcohol stench? No way.
Lin Yang, however, refused to give up. He walked over, scooped up his cat, and lay flat on the bed. He placed the cat on his chest, petting it messily until its once-sleek fur was entirely disheveled.
He mumbled, “Fluffy, I think… Senior Si doesn’t like me anymore.”
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Author’s Note:
Babies, check out our comments section! This is supposed to be a fluffy, wholesome story! People who don’t know might think I’m some kind of smut writer…
