Xia Lening confirmed that Gu Yucheng was drunk.
Because he had been pinned on the bed, lying there in utter despair while listening to Gu Yucheng repeat “I didn’t treat him like a toy” dozens of times.
Unable to struggle free, he simply gave up.
A newborn cat didn’t have much energy to begin with, and with the soft bed beneath him, he eventually fell asleep under Gu Yucheng’s hypnotic chanting.
In his dream, he vaguely felt someone lifting him up and walking around with him.
When he woke up, it was broad daylight. Sunlight streamed in from the balcony, turning every strand of his fur into a golden shimmer. He saw the dangling ornament on top of the cat bed and realized he had returned to Gu Yucheng’s home.
As he got up, his head was still buzzing.
Gu Yucheng deserved to be punished a thousand times over! Chanting like some curse spell!
He wasn’t sure whether that obsessive clean freak had slept at the hotel afterward or returned home drunk-but-pretending-to-be-normal.
He lingered in bed for a while before lazily getting up.
As soon as he left the nest, he saw the unfinished cat food from yesterday.
He refused to eat overnight leftovers—he needed Gu Yucheng to open a fresh can.
So Xia Lening slid dramatically into Gu Yucheng’s room, and from a distance saw a lump bulging under the blanket.
He wandered back to the living room and checked the clock: 8:30.
Not exactly late, but definitely past Gu Yucheng’s usual waking time.
Feeling justified, he marched in and started yowling.
The curtains were tightly shut, the room was pitch black, and cat cries echoed everywhere.
But the person on the bed only moved slightly, rolled over, and completely ignored him.
Something was wrong.
In his memory, Gu Yucheng had a built-in “wake up or die” system—he almost never slept past seven.
In all these years, there had only been one situation like this.
He might have a fever.
The moment that thought appeared, Xia Lening tried to jump onto the bed.
His cat legs were too short—he couldn’t make it up.
It was as if heaven decided that when he was human, his legs had been too long, so now he had to experience short-leg injustice.
After thinking for a moment with his head lowered, he left the room.
Soon after, he returned, pushing a small wooden chair with his head.
The chair was just the right height for him to climb onto the bed.
First, he turned on the bedside lamp, then jumped onto Gu Yucheng and patted his face.
As expected—it was burning hot.
Good thing he wasn’t just an ordinary cat, or else Gu Yucheng might have died at home without anyone noticing.
Gu Yucheng had a habit: when he had a fever, he became extremely stubborn. He refused medicine, refused hospitals, and refused water. He would just lie in bed and trust his immune system completely.
Xia Lening had witnessed this a few times before. Every time, he had to roughly grab Gu Yucheng by the hair and force him to sit up and take medicine.
It wasn’t concern—it was purely fear that if Gu Yucheng got brain damage while staying with him, the Gu family would come for accountability.
Now, the Gu family obviously wouldn’t argue with a cat—but if Gu Yucheng actually turned stupid from fever, there would be no one to open cat food.
Thinking this, Xia Lening slapped him hard across the face with all his strength.
“Don’t make trouble,” Gu Yucheng murmured hoarsely, face flushed.
Don’t make trouble? Did he think they were playing some kind of flirtatious game?
Xia Lening struck him again.
Gu Yucheng grabbed him. “Xia Lening… stop messing around.”
At that moment, instead of the cat being startled, it was Gu Yucheng who suddenly opened his eyes.
His unfocused gaze slowly focused, finally locking onto the cat in front of him.
His chest rose and fell heavily. His breath was hot, sweat soaked his back, and his clothes clung tightly to his skin.
He had probably tried to grab a person’s wrist instinctively—but had instead grabbed a cat.
The grip was too strong.
Xia Lening struggled like a worm, cursing nonstop.
Startled, Gu Yucheng released him and raised a hand to cover his eyes.
Xia Lening kicked his chin.
The person he had painstakingly woken could not be allowed to fall back asleep.
Thanks to his relentless efforts, Gu Yucheng finally sat up. Under the dim bedside light, his gaze was unfocused, jaw tight, throat bobbing as he sat there dazed.
Then Xia Lening leapt up and kicked him again mid-air.
Only then did Gu Yucheng grab his hair and stand up, walking out.
Xia Lening immediately followed behind to supervise.
Gu Yucheng poured some cat food into the bowl, then turned to go back to the room.
Xia Lening was speechless. He rushed forward to block him.
For the first time, Gu Yucheng saw seriousness and anger on a cat’s face.
The cat raised its tiny front paw and pointed at the coffee table.
Gu Yucheng looked over and, as if suddenly enlightened, pulled out a water bowl from a pile of cat toys and poured water into it.
“Sorry, I forgot to give you water.”
“Meow!” Xia Lening protested.
“That’s not what I meant, idiot! I meant you drink water and take medicine!”
He jumped onto the coffee table, about to push the only glass of water there—but before he could touch it, the glass was lifted away.
Gu Yucheng held it firmly. “Don’t touch that.”
Xia Lening rolled his eyes.
Who even wants your broken cup? If I weren’t afraid of staying in a house with an idiot, I wouldn’t care.
His expression made Gu Yucheng pause.
“You want me to drink water?”
Xia Lening sat on the table, arms crossed, turning his head away while meowing angrily.
Drink all you want. Just die from fever already.
Suddenly, his face was pinched.
Gu Yucheng asked seriously, genuinely puzzled:
“Are you actually Xia Lening’s biological child?”
Great. He really had burned his brain.
But at least he finally realized he needed medicine.
He pulled out several blister packs from the cabinet, boiled some water, and sat on the sofa waiting.
His expression was dark and unreadable, as if his mind were running some unknown calculations.
Xia Lening yawned, thinking that once this idiot took his medicine, he would go bask in the sun on the balcony.
The water boiled. Gu Yucheng poured the steaming water into his black “baby cup.”
Then—
A face appeared on the cup.
A youthful, arrogant, extremely rude face.
Middle finger raised.
Xia Lening stared at it.
“…?”
He seriously wondered if he was hallucinating.
Maybe becoming a cat had broken his brain.
He facepalmed helplessly.
Meanwhile, Gu Yucheng suddenly noticed the cat had become strangely depressed, walking to the balcony and kneeling dramatically like it had lost its soul.
Gu Yucheng: ?
“Are you mentally ill?”
Yes. Xia Lening was indeed mentally broken.
He had been defeated.
That cup—
was the birthday gift he had given Gu Yucheng in middle school out of pure laziness.
It had been a heat-sensitive “magic cup.” At room temperature it looked black, but when hot water was poured in, a hidden image slowly appeared.
On Gu Yucheng’s birthday back then, he had printed a photo of himself flipping the middle finger and custom-made it at the most expensive shop he could find.
When he gave it, he even smiled sweetly and said it was a carefully prepared gift.
At the time, he only wanted to prank Gu Yucheng.
He never imagined it would still be used today.
Now, he felt as if his malice had been fully and sincerely accepted by the world.
A strange sense of defeat drained out of him.
Gu Yucheng, you win.
“Such a small one.”
A voice came from the side.
Xia Lening lifted his eyelids lazily—and froze.
A giant cat was looking at him curiously from the balcony railing.
“…Maine Coon?”
He had learned a lot about cats when he picked one up before, so he recognized the breed immediately.
If he had to be reincarnated as a cat, at least let it be a Maine Coon. At least he would look intimidating when fighting Gu Yucheng.
The Maine Coon tilted its head. “What?”
Right. Cats didn’t understand breeds.
“Nothing. I was talking nonsense,” Xia Lening said.
“Okay,” the Maine Coon replied.
The conversation was painfully boring—but it was the first real interaction Xia Lening had had with another cat since becoming one.
Gu Yucheng only dripped saliva on his head.
Excited, he moved closer to the railing.
“What’s your name? I mean—what does your owner call you?”
“Owner? He’s not my owner. He says we’re revolutionary partners. He calls me Wangcai.”
“…Wangcai?”
“Yeah. What about you? What does your… owner call you?”
“He’s not my owner!” Xia Lening immediately bristled.
“Your revolutionary partner?”
“No, no.” He shook his head furiously. “He’s… he’s my servant!”
He said it with sudden clarity, as if enlightenment had struck him.
“Yes! He’s my servant!”