Chapter 25: To test the waters again?

“Then can you explain why this painting is exactly the same as the last one my ex-boyfriend drew before we broke up? Even the progress is almost identical to that time?”

Ning Dongya’s eyes were as terrifying as a black hole. The moment her gaze swept over me, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

“Meow!!!”

I shivered in fright, my tail stiffening like a rod.

Ning Dongya’s fingertips suddenly left my wrist, and instead began to tap gently on the tabletop, producing a steady “tap tap” sound.

She let out a breath, gazing at her interlaced fingers. Under the light, her silvery-grey pupils gleamed coldly. “This screen… I queued for three months back then just to buy it.”

Ning Dongya’s voice was soft, as if she were speaking to herself. “Back then, to save money, I only ate two meals a day. On weekends, I even worked part-time whenever I could. It wasn’t exactly hard, but still—if the gift I gave just gets sold off like trash… Eh, forget it, it’s his choice after all.”

It felt like something had struck my heart, a dull ache spreading within.

The tip of my tail curled unconsciously around the leg of the chair.

“And now, he just sells it off like junk.” She suddenly let out a bitter laugh, the sound laced with self-mockery. “Well, since I already gave it away, what he does with it is his business.”

It seemed Ning Dongya didn’t notice she had repeated herself.

If her earlier words brought a dull ache, now it was like being pricked by needles—a sharp, piercing pain…

Cold sweat slid down from my temple, dripping onto the tablet and blurring into a small water stain.

Should I tell her the truth? Tell her I was that ex-boyfriend?

But just as the words reached my lips, I swallowed them back. I knew that would be a terrible idea. Even if Ning Dongya wouldn’t be sad, who knows what might happen afterward…

My cat ears drooped involuntarily. I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting a faint trace of blood.

Looking at Ning Dongya’s dim eyes and feeling that stabbing pain in my chest, I desperately searched for a solution. Soon, I thought of something—though I wasn’t sure if it would work.

“Oh, oh! I must be mistaken!” I lifted my head, pretending as if I’d just remembered something. “I got it wrong… This isn’t second-hand!”

Ning Dongya looked up. She stared at me, and I hurriedly avoided her gaze, my claws scratching chaotic marks on the tablet’s edge. “I-it was borrowed from a distant relative! He has the same name as me—he’s also called Gui Yun… I saw it gathering dust at his place, so I borrowed it for painting!”

Ning Dongya silently watched me, her fingertips absentmindedly rubbing the rim of her cup.

She kept her head down, the warm bar light casting uneven shadows across her face. I couldn’t make out her expression—her gaze felt like a searchlight.

“A relative with the same name? You two are related?” she suddenly asked, her voice softer than before.

“Y-yeah!” I nodded furiously. “He’s a painter too, and he lent me this tablet after I arrived here.”

Clearly, I wasn’t good at lying. My tone was flustered, and even my tail behind me swung around like a helicopter rotor.

She suddenly let out a light laugh. There was no trace of her earlier mockery in it; the gloom in her eyes vanished, replaced by something hard to describe. “Is that so?” She stood up and straightened the hem of her suit skirt. “Since it’s borrowed, you’d better take good care of it.”

With that, she picked up her packed coffee and dessert, and walked toward the door.

Just as I thought it was over, Ning Dongya’s voice sounded at the entrance again.

“By the way, let me stress this again. Since it’s borrowed, you need to look after it properly. Especially your claws—don’t scratch the screen or you’ll ruin it.”

She looked at me. Rather than a warning, her tone and gaze felt more like a verdict: If you damage it, I’ll hold you responsible.

Leaving those words behind, Ning Dongya left the shop.

I stared at her figure disappearing around the corner, my cat paw absentmindedly scratching the wood grain at the bar’s edge.

The wind chime on the glass door still tinkled softly, but the oppressive air left behind hadn’t faded, making it hard to breathe.

Why was she so hung up on this old tablet?

I ran my fingers along the cold frame of the tablet, feeling the faint groove on the back. Back then, she’d secretly carved our initials into it with a utility knife. I’d laughed at her for being childish.

Now that I thought about it, when she mentioned “queuing for three months” and “eating only two meals a day,” it wasn’t about the money—it was about the meaning this tablet held for her.

I never imagined Ning Dongya would still remember me—and care so much about this tablet she’d given me.

At that thought, a cold sweat soaked the fur on my back. My lies just now were full of holes! First I said it was second-hand, then changed it to being borrowed from a relative, with my tail spinning like a runaway propeller.

I wondered if Ning Dongya had noticed anything odd.

My cat ears flattened tightly against my head. I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. That last “take good care of it”—was it really meant for me?

Not for me as a catgirl, but for me as Ning Dongya’s ex-boyfriend.

The warm bar light above flickered suddenly, casting a distorted patch of light on the floor. I stared at my shadow on the table—a fuzzy, black outline, my cat tail twitching nervously, leaving messy marks on the wood.

And just now, when Ning Dongya heard me say the tablet was bought second-hand, she looked so hurt. I almost considered telling her my true identity.

But if she really knew that the catgirl in front of her was her former boyfriend, how would she react? Shock? Disgust? Indifference?

Maybe Ning Dongya only cared about the tablet’s condition, not about me at all. After all, she’d spent ages saving up for it; its meaning alone was heavy enough.

Still, there was another possibility—that Ning Dongya had already figured out who I was, and everything just now was an act: her sadness, my flimsy excuses, even her final warning.

But if that were true, why didn’t she say anything? Was she waiting for something?

I couldn’t figure it out, but I felt that possibility was real.

The door to the staff lounge suddenly opened. Yue Ran stepped out. “We can close up now! Good work today, everyone~”

Ling Xiaoxiao let out an “awoo” and collapsed on the bar, her pink-and-white rabbit ears drooping like two fluffy ribbons. “Finally, we’re off work!”

Shi Yu lazily put the last coffee cup into the sanitizer. Her turquoise fox tail drew a languid arc behind her. “I’m exhausted too.”

Still clutching the tablet in a daze, I suddenly felt a sharp pain atop my head.

“Pa!”

Ling Xiaoxiao flicked my cat ear with her finger. “Hey! Gui Yun! Where did your soul wander off to? Everyone’s gone ages ago! Come help clean up the tables!”

Her bunny ears were dusted with flour and swayed in front of my eyes as she spoke.

“Huh? Oh, right!” I hurriedly stuffed the tablet into my bag, my cat paw accidentally knocking over a bottle of syrup, spilling a little amber liquid across the bar.

Shi Yu swiftly handed me a napkin, her fox tail brushing lightly across the back of my hand. “Careful, you’re all spaced out today.”