At dusk, the city skyline was painted in a blurred wash of orange-red and purple-gray.
Su Yuqing dragged her legs, which felt as if they were made of lead, out of the office building’s revolving doors.
What met her was not the refreshing evening breeze, but a complex cocktail of fatigue, frustration, and a strange, lingering fear.
The disastrous misunderstanding in the office that afternoon, the sight of Xiao Ying’s back as she ran away in a breakdown, and the fleeting yet haunting sensation of that cool, soft touch against her neck…
The scenes flashed through her mind, making her temples throb.
“Phew — finally off work…”
She let out a long sigh that held no sense of relief, only the exhaustion of a survivor.
She desperately needed to return to her nest—a place that, although occupied by another “tyrant,” was at least familiar.
She wanted to bury herself under the covers and let her chaotic brain shut down and restart.
Her phone buzzed, notifying her that her ride had arrived.
A white ride-hail car slowly pulled up to the curb.
Su Yuqing verified the license plate and the phone suffix.
She pulled the door open, preparing to collapse into the back seat to enjoy a few moments of isolation and peace —
“Phone ending in 0624, is that you, Miss?”
The driver asked, turning from the driver’s seat to confirm in a local accent.
“Yes, that’s me.”
Su Yuqing forced a small smile and bent down to get in.
“Wait a second.”
The driver raised a hand, pointing at his phone screen before peering behind her with a slight frown.
“I should tell you now, this doesn’t match the ‘single passenger’ order you placed. Are you bringing someone else? Company policy says extra passengers are fine in principle if the route stays the same, but if there are bridge tolls, tunnels, or other extra fees, you might need to pay the difference or update the order on the platform.”
His tone was polite enough, but it carried a routine warning.
“Huh?”
Su Yuqing blinked, instinctively looking back.
“What second passenger? Sir, I’m alone…”
Her words caught in her throat.
On the sidewalk a few paces behind her, amidst the ambiguous light of the fading dusk and the newly lit neon signs, stood a figure.
It was Bai Wanxue.
She was still wearing that elaborate, delicate English-style Maid Outfit that looked so out of place against the urban backdrop, her silver-gray hair fluttering gently in the breeze.
The iconic Black Lace Parasol was folded now, held tightly against her chest like a pillar of security.
She just stood there quietly, her pale red eyes appearing even more translucent in the dim light.
She stared at Su Yuqing without blinking, her face devoid of any expression.
There was no pleading, no anxiety—just a steady gaze, as if she had been standing there since the dawn of time, waiting to be discovered.
“Isn’t that young lady with you?”
The driver had clearly seen her too, gesturing with his chin toward Bai Wanxue.
“Exactly, the one who’s been following you and watching you, Miss. She’s been following you since you left the building. I thought you were together.”
The blood in Su Yuqing’s veins seemed to turn cold.
She spun around and marched over to Bai Wanxue.
Due to the afternoon’s chaos and the absurdity of the current moment, she kept her voice low, yet she couldn’t hide her exasperation and disbelief:
“What?! You…! I—I’m already off work! Wh—What do you want, following me like this?!”
She scanned the girl, trying to find a hint of intent on that exquisite but hollow face.
“Don’t you have a home to go to?! What’s the point of following me?!”
She couldn’t understand why this girl of unknown origin, who had just done that to her in the office, was now appearing on her commute like a ghost.
Bai Wanxue seemed to shrink back slightly at the sudden approach and questioning, her arms tightening around her parasol.
She blinked her pale red eyes, her long silver lashes trembling like the wings of a startled butterfly.
Then, in her characteristically ethereal, monotone voice, she slowly uttered a single word:
“Meow…”
Then came a clearer sentence that made Su Yuqing’s heart sink:
“No home.”
She paused, seemingly searching for the right way to express herself, then added:
“Wanxue… has no home now.”
“Wait!”
Su Yuqing gasped as an absurd yet strangely logical thought hit her.
“Do you mean… you don’t even have a decent place to stay? Not even a… a cat house made of cardboard boxes to keep the rain out?!”
The words blurted out before she could stop them.
She froze, wondering why she had used the term “cat house.”
But considering the girl’s true nature, the word felt eerily appropriate.
“Hey, Miss!”
The driver’s impatient voice came from the car.
He leaned halfway out the window, pointing at the increasingly gloomy sky.
“Are you going or not? This weather looks like it’s going to dump rain any second! Didn’t you get the alert? The Meteorological Observatory said the outer bands of a typhoon might hit us from late tonight into tomorrow. There’s going to be heavy wind and rain! I really can’t wait much longer. The platform has rules; if I time out, I have to follow procedure and cancel the order!”
A typhoon!
The word was like a cold needle piercing through Su Yuqing’s scattered thoughts.
She instinctively looked up.
Sure enough, the earlier sunset had been swallowed by thick, leaden clouds.
The air felt heavy and humid, and the wind began to stir with an unsettled energy.
A storm—perhaps even a typhoon-strength one—was brewing.
Almost the moment the driver finished speaking, the previously quiet Bai Wanxue suddenly gave a very slight shiver.
She clutched her parasol even tighter, her fingertips turning white.
In those usually emotionless pale red eyes, a flash of panic flared, like that of a startled animal.
She took a tiny, almost imperceptible step toward Su Yuqing.
Her lips parted slightly, and a faint, trembling whimper escaped:
“Typhoon… sc—scary… meow…”
The pure, primal fear in that voice acted like another needle, catching Su Yuqing off guard.
She looked at the girl—with her strange clothes, mysterious origins, and non-human traits—showing such vulnerability in the face of nature’s power.
She saw her clutching that parasol as if it provided some meager sense of safety while standing on a street where the crowds were thinning, claiming she had “no home.”
Her logic was screaming at her to stay away.
This girl was the definition of “unknown trouble,” not to mention the unresolved storm back at the office.
But something deeper and softer—perhaps an old hang-up about never being able to abandon a stray cat, or simply the basic human pity felt for someone facing “homelessness” and “fear”—seized her heart.
Right then, Su Yuqing’s phone vibrated in her pocket.
She pulled it out mechanically.
The screen lit up with a new message.
The sender: Zhi Ai.
[I have to go out for a bit tonight, so you better hurry your ass home after work, meow.]
The text carried her usual, unquestionable commanding tone.
Immediately after, another message followed:
[If I don’t see you when I get back… hmph, I’m sure you know exactly how I’ll punish you…! (Smiley Face)]
That smiley face looked cold and sinister, a blatant threat.
Zhi Ai was going out?
She wouldn’t be back for the evening?
This information provided a brief, twisted sense of “breathing room,” but the warning that followed made the back of Su Yuqing’s neck turn cold.
‘Punishment…’
Su Yuqing knew all too well what that meant when it came from Zhi Ai.
“Ugh—!”
A groan of despair escaped her throat, feeling backed into a corner.
On one side, a typhoon was coming for a homeless “stray cat girl” who was clearly terrified of storms.
On the other side, there was the death notice from the “Home Cat Queen,” who might return at any time to check on her.
There were cliffs on both sides, and she was standing on a wobbling log in the middle.
“I’m not trying to rush you, Miss!”
The driver’s patience finally evaporated, his voice rising.
“The rain is about to start! Are you getting in or not? If not, I’m leaving!”
“Fine! Fine, fine, fine!”
As if the final straw had broken her, Su Yuqing slammed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.
When she opened them, they held a mixture of resignation, helplessness, and a “to hell with it” determination.
She turned to the driver and spoke rapidly:
“We’re getting in! We’re coming right now! Sir, please wait 10 seconds! Just 10 seconds!”
Then, she grabbed Bai Wanxue’s cold, slender wrist—it felt as if the girl had no body heat—and pulled her toward the car door with near-roughness.
“Get in first! We’ll talk about everything else in the car! Move!”
Being pulled, Bai Wanxue finally seemed to snap out of her fear of the typhoon.
She didn’t struggle.
Instead, she followed Su Yuqing’s lead, stumbling once before following.
The moment Su Yuqing tried to usher her into the back seat, Bai Wanxue suddenly let go of the parasol she had been clutching.
The parasol clattered to the ground by the car as her arms wrapped around Su Yuqing’s waist like vines.
She leaned her entire cold, light body into Su Yuqing’s embrace.
Her cheek even unconsciously nuzzled the crook of Su Yuqing’s neck—the same spot her lips had briefly touched that afternoon.
“Hey! You! What are you doing?! Don’t just hug me out of nowhere!”
Su Yuqing froze as if struck by an electric current.
She hissed the words, frantically trying to peel the “attachment” off her.
This was too intimate, and it was right on the side of the road!
If someone she knew saw this…
But Bai Wanxue seemed not to hear.
She buried her face in Su Yuqing’s shoulder, her voice sounding satisfied and instinctively dependent:
“It’s… so warm here. Meow~”
That soft, velvety cat cry was like a feather brushing against her ear, causing Su Yuqing’s struggles and rebukes to catch in her throat.
She stood there stiffly, letting the cool, soft body—emitting a strange, cold fragrance—press against her.
She felt the girl’s slight trembling (whether from the cold or residual fear) gradually subside.
Of course, the driver cast a bizarre look through the rearview mirror.
At that moment, the phone vibrated again.
It was Zhi Ai.
This time, she had sent a photo.
The background was dark and blurry, appearing to be some unfamiliar street.
Zhi Ai had only photographed her own foot, which was stepping on a cheap smartphone with a shattered screen.
Her glass-colored eyes glinted with a cold, mocking light in the camera’s flash.
The caption was only three words:
[Come. Home. Now.]
It was a threat—a blatant, visual threat.
Su Yuqing looked at Bai Wanxue in her arms, who was instinctively nuzzling her and letting out a faint purr as she found a source of heat.
Then she looked at the foot crushing the phone on her screen.
Finally, she looked up at the clouds that were growing thicker and darker, as if they were about to crush the city.
Between a rock and a hard place.
Caught between a wolf and a tiger.
Finally, she gritted her teeth.
Using all her strength, she half-carried and half-pushed the still-nuzzling Bai Wanxue into the back seat.
She scrambled in after her and slammed the door shut.
“Sir, drive.”
Her voice was thick with exhaustion and resignation.
The car slowly merged into the evening traffic.
Outside the window, the city lights were beginning to flicker on, but they couldn’t dispel the stagnant air inside the car or the clouds thickening in Su Yuqing’s heart, leading toward an unknown destination…