“Hang Tian! You ungrateful brat! Get down off my dresser right now!”
Hang Sheng often fretted, wondering if she’d given her little cat a name that was too grand for him. She feared her own fragile, lowly fate couldn’t contain him, which was why he kept using her pillowcase as a stage to party day and night without a care in the world.
Hang Tian was a black cat; not a single hair on his entire body was any color other than black—even the pads on the soles of his paws were pure black and fluffy. Being clumsy and awkward seemed to be a “natural talent” hardwired into his genes.
As everyone knows, genetic modification violates medical ethics. So even though Hang Sheng was deeply dissatisfied with her child’s genetic makeup, as a law-abiding, model citizen, she had no choice but to meekly endure and show boundless tolerance.
Besides, she deserved it all. After all, she had known full well that Hang Tian’s cat mother was a street thug, yet she still insisted on bringing its offspring home—at that point, there was no turning back.
On the vanity, the two-thousand-yuan bottle of blue powdered foundation was already half suspended in mid-air, waiting for just one last cat hair to be added before it would be crushed to death. Fortunately, Hang Tian, having a change of heart at the sound of a timely rebuke, reached back and pushed the precariously balanced bottle inward a few times, saving the innocent powder’s life.
Once done, Hang Tian nimbly hopped down to the floor, flopped down with a “thud” at Hang Sheng’s feet, stretched lazily, and began meowing sweetly as if nothing had happened, looking every bit the nonchalant cat.
Hang Sheng wasn’t having any of it. She lifted her foot and gave the cat’s plump little behind a light kick, scolding, “It’s only the 13th today. How many times have you done this this month? It’s only because I’m busy—otherwise, I’d definitely give you a good scolding!”
Just as she was scolding it, the computer suddenly buzzed a few times. Hang Sheng ignored the kitten, turned around, and looked back at the computer on the low table—it was a reply from the HR representative she’d been chatting with earlier.
[Dear, we have both long and short days off here~]
[The long day off is all day Sunday, and the short day off is Sunday morning. We guarantee everyone gets to sleep in every week—it’s very employee-friendly~]
【We’re genuinely looking to hire. We’ve reviewed your resume and found it to be excellent—it’s a perfect match for our position~ If you’re interested in our company, we’d love for you to come in for an in-person interview tomorrow. The address is XXX Building on XXX Road…】
To hell with your “employee-friendly” policy! To hell with your “genuine” intentions! The more something is lacking, the more they flaunt it—this is a perfect real-life example of the “show-off principle.”
Hang Sheng has to admit that looking for a job before the New Year is like panning for gold in shit, nitpicking in an egg, or searching for a Y chromosome in a female somatic cell—it’s meaningless! It’s unrealistic! It doesn’t exist! It’s completely impossible!
Yes, Hang Sheng is unemployed, just as the New Year approaches.
Four years ago, Hang Sheng joined a foreign-owned company through campus recruitment as an HR specialist. Recently, due to the economic downturn, many foreign companies have been pulling out of the domestic market. Her company was also on the verge of making similar moves, cutting three production lines in a row—and the task of laying off the staff from one of those lines was handed over to her, a newly promoted manager.
She gritted her teeth, endured the insults, and took the blame. Like an old ox plowing a field, she gave her all to complete the entire layoff process. But then her superiors turned around and found her hands stained with blood—no longer as pure and clean as when they first met her— so they swiftly cut ties with her and laid her off before New Year’s Day. Thus, she, too, became an unemployed drifter who spent her days wandering through the library.
When Hang Sheng left the company with her severance pay—equivalent to three months’ salary plus one month’s salary—she had originally resolved to use this opportunity to treat herself to a long, leisurely vacation after four and a half years of diligent part-time work. She planned to rest until after the Lunar New Year before considering the prospect of selling herself into employment slavery again.
But she’d forgotten that she’d never been one to sit still—or perhaps she was simply destined to toil for unscrupulous companies. After just a few days in bed, Hang Sheng became unbearably anxious, especially since her little tyrant of a son at home kept draining her finances every other day. This anxiety only made her more restless, so as soon as the New Year’s holiday was over, Hang Sheng plunged headfirst back into the vast ocean of job hunting.
As it turned out, looking for a job really was like looking for a needle in a haystack—though, of course, she was the needle being sought.
Hang Sheng strictly adhered to the saying that “work should leave its mark,” though she chose to leave the traces of her work on her increasingly rounded belly.
Hang Sheng pinched the fat she’d accumulated from overwork over the years. Hmm… it seemed her “needle” was sunk pretty deep.
A dozen or so days of miserable experiences brought Hang Sheng, who had long lived in an ivory tower, face-to-face with reality. Although she had clearly noticed while working in recruitment that she was receiving far more resumes than ever before, the job market was still far worse than she had imagined. It wasn’t until she put herself in others’ shoes that she realized: it wasn’t that there were no jobs out there, but there were certainly no decent ones left.
Hang Sheng immediately reported the company, citing the following reasons: “They don’t treat people like human beings, yet personify animalistic behavior; they lack empathy, yet disguise their wolfish hearts with human facades to deceive others.”
After penning another impassioned post, she finally stopped. When Hang Sheng looked up again, the sky outside the window had already taken on a dusky hue. Winter nights meant she had to clock in earlier and earlier each day, while her clock-out time kept getting pushed back—much like certain middle-aged male colleagues at the company who were married with children but reluctant to go home.
Hang Sheng sighed, deciding to call it a day for now. She stretched out her crossed legs and lay back on the soft carpet, closing her eyes as she stretched her limbs with a series of soft grunts, then let out a long howl to release all the pent-up frustration from her belly.
Her stomach seemed to have flattened slightly. In high spirits, she opened her eyes and locked gazes with Hang Tian’s mischievous, large green eyes. At some point, he had silently leaped onto the vanity table again, and the compact powder container that had just been saved from destruction was now once again in grave danger.
Hang Sheng didn’t even have time to shout a warning to assert the authority befitting a master before the blue bottle plummeted to its doom, meeting a brutal end as it shattered into a thousand pieces.
A shower of pale pink powder scattered everywhere—in the air, on the floor, and across Hang Sheng’s fair complexion…
There was no anger on Hang Sheng’s face, for the powder had frozen the calm she was pretending to be.
The woman and the cat stared at each other for a long time. Finally, Hang Sheng snapped out of it. She let out a series of “Ah! Ah! Ah!” cries as she leaped to her feet, pinning down the culprit—who was trying to make a run for it—by its four limbs, and scolded it: “Hang Tian! Are you a spy sent by my old company?!”
Before she quit, she’d managed to snag this freebie from the company—she’d only used it three times in total, which worked out to a little over seven hundred yuan per use, all spent on those worthless, damn interviews. And now it had met such an inhumane end—it really felt like a total rip-off.
To make matters worse, the culprit was still acting all arrogant and unrepentant, Hang Sheng was so furious she felt like spitting blood. But she was a civilized person who didn’t subscribe to the notion that “spare the rod, spoil the child,” so she wouldn’t hit the cat. Yet she wouldn’t feel satisfied unless she meted out some punishment. After much deliberation, Hang Sheng resolved to expose this naughty cat’s despicable behavior to the world to vent her pent-up rage.
She pinned the cat down exactly where she’d been lying. Because of the scattered loose powder, her previous posture was clearly imprinted on the carpet—just like a criminal suspect being brought back to the crime scene to identify the evidence.
Hang Sheng took photos of Hang Tian from six angles—top, bottom, left, right, front, and back—to capture a complete, unobstructed view, then uploaded them to a certain secondhand platform called “Yellow Fathead Fish,” accompanied by a detailed description:
Pet’s Age: 3 years old;
Pet’s Gender: Used to be a male;
Pet’s Weight: 4.6 kg (on an empty stomach + after defecating);
Vaccinations and Deworming: Has received rabies vaccine and combination vaccine; has completed internal and external deworming; recent physical exam showed no health issues;
Pet Characteristics: Good-looking, but has an extremely vicious temperament—the worst in the world, incorrigible, skilled at disguise, and illiterate (doesn’t understand human speech; having been separated from home since childhood, it likely doesn’t understand cat language either);
Pet Value: Acquired for zero yuan, but has destroyed 5 sets of tableware, 3 cosmetics, 11 toys, 2 pairs of slippers, and a toilet… Also responsible for the deaths of three fish (guppies). Cumulative value…
Additional Notes: Major flaw! Proceed with caution! Has dairy cow cat genes in its ancestry!
After typing in the ultra-low price of 0.01 yuan, Hang Sheng looked down at the kitten rolling around at her feet, trying to win her over with its cute antics, and her pent-up anger finally subsided a little.
She crouched down and vigorously patted the powder evenly coating Hang Tian’s black fur until it flew everywhere, muttering resentfully, “ “It’s no use struggling—a black cat is a black cat, and you’ll never wash that away!”
“Buzz—” Her phone suddenly vibrated briefly.
Hang Sheng let go of the cat, pulled out her phone—which she’d casually stuffed into her pajama pocket—and opened it. To her surprise, someone had already made a direct purchase from the cat-for-sale link she’d posted less than a minute ago…
[I’ve paid. Waiting for you to ship.]
Hang Sheng looked at the ugly cat avatar on the other end, feeling a bit confused. Wait… couldn’t this person tell she was just venting her frustration?
She clicked on the person’s profile and discovered that they were also posting cats for sale—or rather, to be precise, selling cats.
His cats averaged one yuan each; the prices were indeed rock-bottom, but every single one was just as unattractive as the bald cat in his profile picture—a creature that looked like a cross between a man, a woman, an old person, and a child. Naturally, his sales had never broken the zero barrier.
Hang Sheng casually clicked on a link and discovered that this “ugly cat weirdo’s” account was actually for cat adoptions. The requirements for adopters included: no criminal record, no history of cat abuse, a stable income and residence, adoption limited to residents of the same city, a commitment to live in the city for at least six months, and agreeing to a simple monthly online follow-up for the first six months, among others.
The adoption requirements were numerous but not overly strict. Hang Sheng suspected there must be a catch behind this money-losing venture. For instance, the line in the link stating, “If you adopt, you’ll receive six months’ worth of cat food delivered to your door monthly,” gave her a clue. She figured it was likely the same scheme as the “free adoptions” commonly seen in shopping malls— It’s simply shifting the cost of the cat onto the cat food—a “charity event” that’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, not something meant for people to take advantage of for free.
At this thought, Hang Sheng couldn’t help but shudder. She instinctively hugged the cat closer and took the opportunity to scold it: “ “Great, now you’ve got cat traffickers after you. Let’s see if you dare to misbehave again!”
Hang Sheng suspected that the other party had probably set their sights on her low price, hoping to snag a pretty cat for free, only to resell it on their own page later and make a huge profit.
“Could my little one be a child model? Absolutely! Hang Tian can do it—after all, he really is an adorable little kitten. Sure, he’s a bit of a troublemaker, but that’s hardly a capital offense.”
A chill ran down Hang Sheng’s spine at the thought, and she hurriedly clicked “Refund” and quickly took down the listing.
She muttered to herself, sounding a bit unhinged: “No more selling. We’re not selling anymore.”
“It’s just a lousy compact powder, isn’t it? It’s better that it broke. I should’ve cut all ties with that heartless, ungrateful company long ago. Who knows if they put a curse in it? How else can I explain why everything’s been going wrong for me lately?”
The strange customer expressed skepticism about the one-cent refund: [Hello, why did you request a refund? Is the price going to be adjusted?]
Hang Sheng wanted to call him a heartless cat merchant, but since her earlier thoughts were just unverifiable speculation, she swallowed her harsh words and maintained a false sense of decorum: [Hahaha, it’s not about the money. I just suddenly don’t feel like selling it anymore.]
There was a moment of silence on the other end. Just as Hang Sheng thought the other person had given up and was about to close the chat window, another message popped up: [Then could you give me priority next time?]
Wait, who are you? Isn’t that a bit too suggestive?
Hang Sheng packed up all the question marks swirling in her head and sent them over: [?????????]
The other person explained: 【What I mean is, if you sell a cat next time, please give me priority. Thanks.】
Hang Sheng scoffed: 【No trouble, no priority, no consideration, and no thanks needed—because there won’t be a next time [smile]】