The pleasant dinner gathering had turned into a trip to the clinic.
Chu Hui was afraid of cats and dogs, and Wang Lianhua disliked the smell of the pet hospital, so the two of them found a nearby tea house to rest and catch up.
At first, Wang Lianhua was uneasy and wanted to follow them back to the hospital to check on them, but she saw Jiang Chuhuai calmly asking the doctor about the examination procedures. It seemed there was no need to worry, so she glanced at her irresponsible daughter, silently compared them in her mind, said nothing, and left.
Inside the pet hospital, Jiang Chuhuai sat in the waiting area holding the little Orange Tabby whose wound had already been bandaged, while Qiu Xuan was inside discussing which physical examination items to run with the doctor.
Several intern doctors stood at the Reception Desk, watching this pair of high school students with interest.
From the moment they entered, their youthful aura was palpable.
It was obvious they had no prior experience taking their pets for medical treatment, much less handling a fur baby, so their eyes and body language revealed their tentative exploration of adult responsibilities.
The boy was strikingly handsome—his hair tousled, his bone structure superior, lips habitually pursed, giving off an unaware aloofness. His hold on the cat was awkward and clumsy, and his expression didn’t show much enthusiasm.
The girl’s style was a bit quirky, completely different in vibe from the boy’s. Her eyes were sharp, and though she spoke energetically, she remained lively and sincere.
One spoke only when necessary; the other didn’t stop talking.
Could they be young lovers?
“What? Neutering?” came the girl’s startled exclamation from inside.
The doctor explained the procedure.
Qiu Xuan: “So that means castration!”
The doctor and nurse couldn’t help but chuckle: “Yes.”
“That’s so cruel—cutting off their future without consent. What about cat rights?”
“Little miss, that’s not cruelty, it’s scientific rescue,” the doctor patiently explained for the uninformed. “Stray cats breed fast, one litter after another. The mother cat’s belly gets so skinny from hunger; each birth weakens her body and shortens her lifespan. The tomcats, meanwhile, fight every day to claim territory and mates, often ending up bloodied and infected. Look, the one you brought in is just like that. So neutering reduces births and helps them live healthier lives—it’s better for the entire cat population.”
Qiu Xuan was a bit stunned and tried to see it from another perspective: “Eugenics? If conditions are poor, then have fewer babies?”
The nurses stifled their laughter again. “Yes, that’s basically it.”
Qiu Xuan looked at the Orange Tabby near the Consultation Room door and marveled, “Wow, so it gets into fights just to win over a wife. Considering that, you’re kind of handsome.”
Jiang Chuhuai was scratching the cat’s chin, trying to soothe the little cat who couldn’t move due to the bandage. His movements froze at her words, and when he looked up, their eyes met—the gaze of a girl who never stopped speaking provocatively.
Qiu Xuan was taken aback for a moment. “I meant it’s handsome, don’t get the wrong idea.”
Jiang Chuhuai, innocent and without any sign of misunderstanding: …
“So, should we neuter him or not?” she hesitated, wanting someone to decide.
Jiang Chuhuai: “Listen to the doctor.”
Qiu Xuan tried negotiating: “Wouldn’t it be better to give him a chance to prove his masculinity?”
Jiang Chuhuai: …
Qiu Xuan: “Neutering means castration.”
Qiu Xuan: “If it were you, wouldn’t you feel it’s a pity? Wouldn’t you hold a grudge? Wouldn’t your masculine dignity be bruised? Would you be so angry that you’d bite me?”
Jiang Chuhuai frowned, lowering his eyelids fractionally with each sentence, a sharpness gradually surfacing in his usually indifferent eyes.
Several intern doctors bit their lips to suppress their laughter.
The boy seemed to have reached his limit. He placed the cat on the seat beside him, stood up, and walked toward the Consultation Room without saying a word, snatching the pen from the girl’s hand.
Qiu Xuan looked at him, confused.
He stood beside her, left hand resting on the table, his gaze quickly scanning the item list, right hand selecting options swiftly and precisely.
“Orange Tabbies, especially males, are at a disadvantage in the stray cat population’s sexual selection. To obtain mating rights, they expend far more energy than average marking territory, often with ineffective courting. The doctor’s advice is the best way to improve individual survival rates,” he explained softly as he made the selections.
He rarely spoke so much, and standing so close, his presence lingered in her nostrils. Qiu Xuan felt dizzy, unsure if it was because of his words or just him.
“Oh…” Qiu Xuan responded, about to say something when Jiang Chuhuai had already taken the list to pay the fees.
Why did she feel like he was angry?
She only talked about the cat, after all.
The doctor administered deworming medication and said the cat would need two or three days of observation before vaccination, then another week before neutering surgery.
Since it was a stray cat, the hospital waived the hospitalization fee, which gave Qiu Xuan time to think about how to care for the little cat.
After completing the hospitalization procedure, the nurse carried the cat into the Hospitalization Ward and asked Jiang Chuhuai, who was closer, “What’s its name? Give it a name.”
Jiang Chuhuai looked at Qiu Xuan.
Qiu Xuan had no words.
The little cat seemed to know they were leaving and pawed at Qiu Xuan’s hand through the cage.
Qiu Xuan: “Let’s call it Ba Shou.”
Silence.
The nurse twitched the corner of her mouth, her eyes flicking between the boy and girl in disbelief. “Ba Shou?”
“Never mind, that’s not good,” the girl quickly retracted.
The nurse silently breathed a sigh of relief on the cat’s behalf.
Qiu Xuan changed it: “How about Xiao Zei? Sounds nicer.”
The nurse’s eyes begged the other owner for confirmation.
Jiang Chuhuai replied, “It’s her cat.”
“Alright…” The nurse wrote on the hospitalization card: Xiao Zei, 1 year old, China Orange.
–
Leaving the pet hospital, the two walked toward the tea house.
Qiu Xuan still wanted to clarify what she had said earlier: “When I said holding grudges, anger, and masculine dignity, I was talking about Xiao Zei, not you.”
Actually, the “bite me” part was also about Xiao Zei, not him.
She slowly turned her head, quietly trying to gauge his reaction.
“Qiu Xuan.” He suddenly called her name.
Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes? Huh?”
“Is my face red?”
He stopped walking and turned to face her.
What was this? Was he thinking about that “bite me” line too?
This sudden closeness and blunt teasing was really embarrassing.
Qiu Xuan bit her lip and slowly lifted her eyes. He lowered his head slightly and leaned in closer for her to see better.
She held her breath, her gaze traveling from his collarbone upward, past his tense neck, prominent Adam’s apple, sharp jawline, and smooth cheek, finally resting on his earlobe.
Every spot was flushed with an unnatural blush, patches of pink streaked with deeper red.
Her voice barely audible, she announced the diagnosis: “Yep, it’s red…”
“And the eyes too,” he said.
Their eyes met—his were reddened as well.
The early autumn sun was soft and warm, dancing on his hair.
Pink bubbles floated in the sunlight, and amid this romantic, special autumn episode, she heard his voice, like a male lead in a Japanese manga, say—
“It’s an allergy.” The tone was definite.
The pink bubbles burst instantly.
“Ah?” Qiu Xuan snapped back to this cold, merciless three-dimensional world.
He lifted his arm and turned it so she could see the rash all over it, then made the diagnosis again: “Probably allergic to cats.”
“Ah?”
“It’s fine. Just apply something later.”
“That can’t be. Allergies aren’t a small matter,” Qiu Xuan fretted.
The big Orange Tabby was important. Even as a stray, Xiao Zei was well fed and weighed a solid five kilograms. Jiang Chuhuai had been holding him the whole time, and now his eyes were red too. This seemed more than just contact allergy.
“It’s fine.” He stroked the rash on his arm, which hadn’t raised yet.
“No way, we need to go to the pharmacy immediately,” Qiu Xuan refused, already marking the address on her phone map. She turned around on the spot to confirm the direction. “Only two hundred meters this way,” then dragged him without a word back toward the pharmacy.
She was focused on the map, not noticing the stunned look on the boy’s face behind her.
A fine electric current sparked from her fingertips, rushing quickly and fading at his ear. Jiang Chuhuai experienced a moment of ear ringing and, for the first time, his usually sharp mind briefly froze.
Does her hand have no bones?
This strange sensation defied all known physical or biological explanations, like an unresolved final exam question, quietly lodging itself in the brief space between heartbeats.
One of their palms began to sweat first— Qiu Xuan realized belatedly, using the motion of checking her map to retract her hand, placing it back on the phone screen as she zoomed in and out.
Her eyes didn’t know where to focus, so she glanced around instead.
She pointed in a direction: “There, I see it.”
When she turned back, Jiang Chuhuai’s gaze was fixed on her hand, then naturally followed the direction she pointed.
It was that very hand.
“Okay.” He withdrew his gaze, acknowledged it, and stepped ahead of her.
Qiu Xuan patted her wildly pounding heart and followed.
They weren’t strangers to physical contact; she had tackled him before as a kid to snatch things. So why was her resistance so weak now?
The pharmacy had a stationed physician who handed over a box of Chlorpheniramine Tablets and dropped it on the glass counter.
Qiu Xuan felt like the doctor barely looked at them and urgently asked, “Is this enough, doctor? Maybe not enough?”
She reached to touch his arm but remembered past experience and pulled back her hand, leaning closer to inspect the affected area. What she saw made her even more anxious.
“It’s worse. It wasn’t this red just now, especially the neck—look how red it is. And the ears—they weren’t red before! Doctor, is this serious?”
Jiang Chuhuai’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Just listen to the doctor.”
The physician glanced over his reading glasses at them. “Don’t misuse or overuse medicine. Start with this; if it doesn’t work, you need to go to the hospital for a check-up promptly.”
Qiu Xuan whispered, “Alright…”
Still feeling uneasy.
Jiang Chuhuai picked up the medicine and paid; Qiu Xuan sighed and followed behind.
After paying, he grabbed a cup of water, took the medicine as prescribed.
Outside the pharmacy, Qiu Xuan was still worried, mumbling about reporting the quack if the symptoms didn’t improve soon.
Jiang Chuhuai let out a short laugh, but the soft breath in his voice didn’t escape Qiu Xuan’s notice.
She tilted her head like she had discovered a new world.
The next second, he pressed her shoulder and sat down on the chair at the pharmacy entrance.
Why sit outside on a sunny day that was kind of hot?
Just as she was about to protest, he took a box of Band-Aids from the bag and handed it to her.
“Here.”
She was puzzled: “Why?”
He pursed his lips, sighed almost imperceptibly, placed the Band-Aids on the chair beside her, then pulled out a bottle of Iodine Cotton Balls and squatted in front of her.
Qiu Xuan was completely frozen, quietly watching him twist off the cap, pick out a cotton ball soaked in iodine, and clean a faint scrape on her ankle.
“I—I didn’t notice it before. It doesn’t hurt…”
She spoke and realized her voice had morphed into a kitten’s meow. Why was she so affected?
Thankfully, the boy didn’t seem to notice, focusing on disinfecting. Then he tore open a Band-Aid and carefully applied it to the wound.
Qiu Xuan held her breath, afraid the sound of her heartbeat would disturb him.
Her hands gripping the edge of the chair nearly gouged the metal seat.
Jiang Chuhuai stood up, and his black hair slowly drifted out of her line of sight.
This wasn’t the first time she’d seen the top of his head, but it was the first time she noticed that he had two hair whorls.
“Done. Try not to get it wet,” he instructed.
“Okay…”
She lifted her leg and tilted her head, watching the Band-Aid.
It was applied perfectly—avoiding any bumps, the edges neat, and no glue touching the wound.
“Let’s go.” He reminded her.
Qiu Xuan looked up, eyes smiling: “You should’ve said earlier. I just saw Kuromi Band-Aids.”
Jiang Chuhuai: “…”