Shen Lizhou rarely dreamed of his childhood.
His memories were like colorful soap bubbles, swelling in the sunlight into perfectly round shapes of happiness, floating with a nostalgic iridescence.
In the dream, he was still that little boy who couldn't even reach the top edge of the easel. His mother held him in her arms as they painted together, teaching him in a gentle voice about lines, contours, light and shadow, structure, and the relationships between objects…
He listened, half-comprehending.
The beautiful bubbles drifted through the air.
Then, without warning, they shattered completely.
There was no sign at all.
Young Shen Lizhou didn't understand why his mother stopped loving him overnight.
She no longer praised his paintings, no longer told him bedtime stories, no longer cared about what he wanted to eat, and no longer hugged him.
When night fell, the thin door couldn't block out the sounds of his parents arguing.
The sound of glasses being thrown, hysterical crying, muffled attempts at comfort, occasional roars of anger…
He buried himself in his pillow, covered himself with his blanket, but those sounds still drilled into his ears without obstruction, like countless needles piercing his skin, fine and dense, making him tremble uncontrollably.
He heard his name always mixed into those arguments.
Had he done something wrong?
It was then that he suddenly heard a distant piano melody.
It was played rather poorly—halting, stumbling, broken. But the player was extraordinarily persistent, playing it over and over. Making mistakes and starting again, starting again and making more mistakes, in an endless cycle that seemed it would never stop.
Little Shen Lizhou's mind wandered for a few seconds, and then he discovered that when he listened carefully to that piano music, his parents' arguing became distant and faint.
Those sharp, terrifying quarrels were completely blocked out by the music. He heard the melody growing smoother and better with each repetition. Somehow, inexplicably, he began to believe that he too could become better, just like that piano music, and that one day, his beloved mother would love him again.
Just like before.
He should try even harder, work even harder at painting.
His mother loved his paintings the most.
She said he looked just like her when he painted.
Later, he met the owner of the piano music.
On a late spring evening, the sky was dyed a gentle orange-pink by the setting sun. After finishing his painting, he was leaning on the windowsill to get some fresh air when he suddenly met a pair of sparkling eyes.
Not far away, a little girl was staring at him without blinking, her head tilted up.
In her hand, she held a small dried fish, which she waved at him as if luring him down to eat it.
He was startled. "You—"
The little girl quickly pressed her index finger to her lips and shushed him, her gaze drifting to below the windowsill.
Shen Lizhou froze for a moment, then followed her gaze down. He spotted a little white cat crouching on the drainpipe, its round eyes fixed directly on the dried fish in her hand. Its pink nose twitched, but it wouldn't move.
It didn't move. She didn't move.
He couldn't move either.
The two of them and the cat remained frozen in this standoff. Finally, the little girl spoke, her voice soft and fluffy, her black grape-like eyes darting between him and the kitten. "Come down, Little White, cute little Whitey, come down and I'll give you the dried fish… super fragrant dried fish, made by my grandma herself, the best dried fish in the whole world…"
The kitten tried to take a step forward, then immediately shrank back.
Shen Lizhou had fed this kitten together with his mother before. He knew that when feeding cats, the best approach was to put the food down and step away, so the cat could come over and eat in peace.
But the little girl didn't know that. And she had a stubborn streak—a determination to never give up until she achieved her goal. When her arm holding the dried fish grew tired, she simply switched to the other hand. Watching her, Shen Lizhou felt like she could stand there until nightfall.
He hesitated for only a few seconds before reaching out, grabbing the little white cat swiftly and firmly by the scruff of its neck.
The cat let out a thin "meow," its four legs scrambling briefly before it was lifted up steadily in his grip.
"Wait a moment," he said to her. "I'll come out right now."
He thumped down the stairs and ran around to the front.
But when he pushed open the door, he saw a very beautiful car parked beside the little girl. From it stepped a young, elegant woman who bore a striking resemblance to the girl.
Shen Lizhou stopped in his tracks.
The woman looked quite displeased, scolding the girl with things like "You're not practicing the piano properly again," "You're always running wild outside," "Don't touch stray cats," and "If you don't behave, I'll never let you come to Grandma's house again."
Then she carried the girl back into the car.
The girl pouted unhappily, pressing her face against the glass, looking in his direction.
Then her eyes lit up.
In the second before the car started, she managed to roll down the window, reached out, and tossed the dried fish out, pointing at the little white cat in Shen Lizhou's arms.
"Big brother," she said in a crisp voice, "can you feed it for me?"
It was the first time anyone had ever called Shen Lizhou "big brother." He nodded instinctively and said, "Okay."
The car window quickly rolled up, and the car slowly drove out of the alley, disappearing into the end of the orange-pink sky.
She had left him and it the best dried fish in the entire world.
Shen Lizhou woke up from a deep sleep. The sky had already turned pitch black.
It had been a long time since he'd had such a dark, sweet sleep. He blinked groggily, his lashes fluttering several times before his eyes could barely focus.
The sky outside the window, which should have been covered in orange-pink sunset glow, was now as heavy as ink. Only the neon lights of the distant city cast a faint, blurry halo through the glass.
His head felt dizzy and heavy from sleep, his body limp, his consciousness floating up slowly like it had been submerged in warm water.
Where is this…
"Awake?"
A gentle female voice sounded—the same voice as that "big brother," but more mature.
Shen Lizhou's body stiffened, and he was completely awake.
He turned his head and saw a small patch of warm light cast by the floor lamp beside the sofa. Shi Ran was curled up on the sofa, a half-read copy of Feline Applied Behavior spread across her knees, her long hair scattered over her shoulders. She looked up at him, a slight curve at the corner of her lips.
He felt a heavy warmth covering him.
Looking down, he realized he was resting on a pink pillow shaped like a cat head, wrapped in that pink fleece blanket with the kitten pattern. Surrounding him was the faint, familiar scent of citrus.
"I—" His ears were red, his voice hoarse. "I… I'm sorry…"
"It's nothing."
Shi Ran smiled and got up to pour him some water. He followed suit and stood up, but unexpectedly his legs were weak. As he rose, his vision went black for a moment, and he stumbled forward. Fortunately, he managed to grab the table in time and didn't fall.
The commotion was loud enough to startle Shi Ran. "Careful. Sit down first."
She brought the water back, but Shen Lizhou was still standing there. He had gotten through the dizzy spell, took the water, and said in a low voice, "…Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Drink some water first." Shi Ran waited for him to drink, then asked, "Are you hungry?"
Shen Lizhou swallowed the water, instinctively wanting to shake his head, but then thought of something and asked in a low voice, "Are you hungry?"
They had originally agreed to go eat together, so why was it already dark now?
What time was it…?
He secretly glanced at his phone.
Then his eyes widened instantly.
22:36.
He had slept for about five or six hours?
Him?
He had been having trouble falling asleep since middle school, and he woke up early. It had gotten worse over time, developing into only light sleep. Then later, he couldn't sleep at all through the night and had to rely on sleeping pills… until the sleeping pills stopped working either.
How could this be?
The feeling of waking up was also very different.
Every time he woke up before, his head would ache like it was about to explode, his body would feel as heavy as if filled with lead, and nausea would keep rising from his stomach, making it impossible to eat anything. But now he only felt soft and limp all over, his eyelids still a bit heavy… as if he could fall back asleep if he closed his eyes.
No nausea in his stomach at all.
In fact… it even seemed like he could smell the aroma of food.
"I've already eaten." Shi Ran pointed to the takeout bag by the table and said, "I eat on time. I also ordered some for you, but I didn't expect that I'd finish eating before you even woke up…"
She had never seen anyone with such good sleep quality.
She had planned to eat quietly without disturbing him, even putting her phone on silent. But the doorbell here was very loud, and the delivery guy couldn't get through on the phone, so he stood at the door pressing it frantically, scaring her into a jolt… but he still didn't wake up.
So she just sat there and ate a normal meal, making normal sounds, taking a few normal glances at his relaxed, well-behaved features, and listening to a few normal sounds of his light, lingering breaths.
…It probably wasn't a sleep quality issue.
Shi Ran frowned slightly. "Have you even been sleeping these past few days?"
"These past few days…" Shen Lizhou paused, then said, "Work has been busy."
"Work long, live long. No matter how busy you are, you can't skip meals and sleep on time." Shi Ran said.
He nodded, answering as expected: "Okay."
Shi Ran glanced at him and went to put the takeout in the microwave. He seemed very embarrassed about not doing anything, but didn't know what he could do at this moment, so he followed behind her step by step, awkwardly.
Next to the microwave was a breakfast that hadn't been opened.
Shen Lizhou glanced at it, then looked away, then glanced again. Just as the two-minute heating time in the microwave was about to end, he asked in a low voice, "Was this breakfast bought for me?"
Ding—the dinner finished heating.
At the same time, Shi Ran said, "Yes."
So he put that breakfast into the microwave too.
That evening, Shi Ran ordered from that seafood congee place again.
When she ordered, there was only one serving left of her favorite shrimp and crab congee, so she casually ordered him the fresh fish fillet congee, along with blanched choy sum, steamed pork ribs with black bean sauce, crispy taro with pumpkin, and chilled jellyfish head.
The warm yellow light fell, and the vividly colored food brewed a gentle warmth in the air.
The congee was cooked until it was thick and creamy, the fish slices cut thin and tender, exquisitely fresh and sweet. Shen Lizhou lowered his head and drank it in small sips, his movements of scooping the congee with his spoon slow and gentle, completely silent.
Shi Ran sat down across from him and asked, "How does it taste?"
He nodded in praise. "It's very good."
She propped her chin on her hand and made a soft "oh" sound, saying, "That's good then," before her gaze drifted, seemingly casually, over the large patch of bruising visible beneath his collar.
He was clearly looking down, yet seemed to sense it somehow. His movements paused for a moment, and he naturally raised a hand to tighten his collar.
Shi Ran looked away.
"Take your time eating, no rush. I happen to want to read a bit more."
She curled back up on the sofa to read, turning a page, then another.
After a while, from the corner of her eye, she finally saw him start to pick up his chopsticks.
…
Why is he so cautious and wary, like a stray cat?
…
And why does he love fish the most, just like a stray cat?
Shi Ran watched him unhurriedly eat every last bite of the dinner and breakfast she had bought, then watched him briskly clear the dishes and carefully wipe down the table.
Then he sat there quietly.
He didn't urge her, didn't play with his phone, and didn't plan to leave the small area he occupied—like a well-behaved little cat temporarily taken in, yet ready to be sent back at any moment.
Shi Ran withdrew her rather inappropriate association.
She focused on her book, flipped a few more pages, then finally stood up. "I'm done reading. Let's go."
He also stood up. "Alright."
The bruise was clearly that severe, but he looked as he always did—clean, composed, radiating a faint pleasant scent of soap, as if nothing were wrong at all.
The two walked out the door, and the night wind rushed to meet them. The sky was a deep, bottomless indigo, dotted with sparse, scattered stars.
Shi Ran looked at the road ahead. "Has everything been going well for you lately?"
He nodded. "Everything's been fine."
That was the second time.
He offered her help without hesitation, yet carefully kept her at arm's length.
Shi Ran turned her head to look at him, saw his eyes—bewildered yet somehow vaguely guarded—and saw his phone screen lit up, showing a ride-hailing interface.
…
He can't even drive anymore.
And he says everything's fine!
For a moment, Shi Ran really wanted to call him out on it, to ask him why the bandage on his finger was still seeping blood after all this time, why there was such a large bruise on his shoulder, why he had pushed himself so hard that he slept like he'd passed out.
But she suddenly remembered the book she'd been reading while her mind wandered.
The book said that fear is the greatest obstacle in feline medicine—without trust, there can be no treatment. Injured or stressed cats must first build a sense of safety through slow approach, scent familiarization, and positive reinforcement before examination, bandaging, or medication; otherwise, it could trigger struggling, fractures, wound tearing, or even stress-induced shock. (Note)
So she pulled open her car door and called out, "Get in."
Shen Lizhou raised his head. The night wind stirred the stray hairs on his forehead, moonlight fell across his clear, handsome face, and those light-colored eyes, deep and bright, looked at her with focused confusion.
Shi Ran smiled at him, her tone gentle yet brooking no argument. "I'll drive you home."