The cat was gone.
Although Lin Hening often complained that the cat was disobedient, refused to be touched, and would be thrown out one day, he had never actually abandoned it. He still fed it well, took care of it, and even left the air conditioning on during the peak of summer to prevent it from overheating when no one was home.
Lin Hening thought, I’ve treated you so well, yet you still ran away. Do you even have a conscience?
That night had been too eventful—his anniversary, An Nian, Wang Tu, Gu Fei—and then a huge argument with Xia Zhile right at his doorstep. His head was spinning, and he had completely forgotten to close the door.
When he woke up, he saw that the door was wide open, just enough for a cat to slip through.
Lin Hening panicked. He rushed out in his slippers to search for the cat.
He lived on the 18th floor, in a building with one unit per level. For security reasons, the elevator was programmed so that residents could only access their own floor, preventing them from stopping at others.
The cat couldn’t have taken the elevator. It could only have gone down the emergency stairwell. Lin Hening dashed down the stairs, recalling from online pet owner experiences that lost cats rarely stray far from home. Unfamiliar with the environment, they usually linger in the hallways.
But after searching all eighteen floors, there was no sign of the cat.
He ran back up, checking from the first floor to the thirty-third. He searched the entire building—still nothing.
With no other choice, he went outside to look. First, he visited the property management office to check the security footage. He stared at the screen for nearly three hours before finally spotting his cat near a bush.
That bush was only three meters from the perimeter wall of the complex.
If the cat had climbed over and jumped out… it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Panicked, Lin Hening rushed to the “disappearance site” for clues, then circled around to the back gate of the complex. Just then, he heard someone call his name.
Turning around, he saw Jian Xiaoxi sticking his head out of a police car.
“Hening, why are you dressed like that? And barefoot? What happened?”
Lin Hening replied, “Your godson is missing.”
“…What?”
Seeing someone handcuffed in the back of the police car, Lin Hening said, “You go take care of your business. I’ll keep looking.”
As the car drove off, Jian Xiaoxi shouted, “Don’t rush off searching! Go home and put on some proper clothes first, or you’ll freeze!”
But Lin Hening didn’t go home. He was afraid that if he left, he’d miss the chance to find the cat.
He searched the entire day.
Nothing.
Even the old property manager told him to stop looking.
Back home, the cat food, canned treats, litter box, and toys were all there—but the cat was gone.
Lin Hening couldn’t help but call Xia Zhile. “Zhile, the cat is missing.”
“What did you just say?”
“The cat is gone.”
“How did it go missing?!”
On Xia Zhile’s end, it was noisy—clinking glasses, laughter, loud music. He was probably at some banquet.
A sudden wave of anxiety hit Lin Hening. “I forgot to close the door, and it ran out. It’s been gone for a whole day and night now.”
“What is wrong with you?! How could you forget something so simple? Hurry up and find it! Winter is coming soon—how is it supposed to survive outside, starving and freezing?!”
Lin Hening wanted to tell him that he had already searched—searched the entire day, called out nonstop.
If anything, he was the one starving and freezing now, not the cat.
His throat burned painfully. He didn’t want to talk anymore.
He hung up the phone, rested his head against a cushion, and shut his eyes tightly against his pounding headache.
The last time he was this desperate searching for something, he was seven or eight years old.
He had woken up from a nap, and his mother was gone.
The nanny told him she had left.
“Where did she go?” he asked.
“She left with another man,” the nanny said.
“When is she coming back?”
The nanny scoffed. “She’s not coming back. Your mother will never come back.”
His eyes turned red as he ran outside to look for her. He searched and searched, until the sun sank beneath the horizon, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find her.
As the last rays of sunset faded into the distant sky, he felt his heart collapse into the depths of his chest, heavy and suffocating.
Just like how she had vanished without warning, his mother never returned.
No signs, no farewell—just gone. No matter how much he screamed until his voice broke, no matter how hard he ran until his legs cramped, gone was gone.
Lin Hening had a bad feeling. The cat wasn’t coming back either.
His phone vibrated. It was Jian Xiaoxi calling.
Lin Hening answered, “Hello?”
“What’s wrong with your voice? Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Did you find the cat?”
“No.”
“…Well, since you didn’t raise it from a kitten, and it was a stray to begin with, maybe this was just its nature. It chose to return to the wild.”
“Mm.”
“Don’t stress over it. Who knows, maybe it’ll come back on its own tomorrow morning. But you—you don’t sound right. Are you sure you’re not sick?”
Lin Hening wasn’t sure. He just felt uncomfortable, his head heavy and foggy.
Jian Xiaoxi asked, “Have you eaten?”
“Not hungry.”
“You need to eat. You trying to become an immortal or something? We’re ordering food anyway—I’ll get you something.”
Lin Hening wanted to refuse, but his throat tightened before he could speak, and Jian Xiaoxi had already hung up.
He sighed lightly and tossed his phone aside. Even talking felt like too much effort, let alone calling back.
Somehow, he ended up falling asleep on the sofa.
He was jolted awake by the sound of ringing.
The house was dark—he hadn’t turned on the lights.
He reached around for his phone but couldn’t find it. That’s when he realized—the ringing wasn’t from his phone. No wonder the screen wasn’t lighting up.
He slipped on his slippers and walked to the entryway, pressing the intercom. “Who is it?”
“Prosecutor Lin.”
Lin Hening froze in surprise and looked at the screen.
It was Gu Fei!
His voice rose involuntarily. “What are you doing here?”
The man on the screen lifted a plastic bag. “Delivery.”
…Delivery?
Oh—was this what Jian Xiaoxi had ordered for him?
Lin Hening unlocked the door and called the elevator. After about three minutes, the elevator chimed, and the “delivery guy” arrived.
Gu Fei was dressed in a dark gray windbreaker, holding the food in one hand, looking energetic as ever.
Lin Hening was a little dazed. “You delivered it yourself?”
Gu Fei said, “There weren’t enough delivery guys, so I thought I’d do it myself. It’s not far anyway.”
Lin Hening, weak and exhausted, leaned against the door. “Oh.”
Gu Fei blinked, then stepped closer and pressed the back of his hand to Lin Hening’s forehead.
The sudden touch caught Lin Hening off guard, especially since the man’s hand was ice-cold. He shivered. “What are you doing?”
Gu Fei said, “Do you have a thermometer? You seem to have a fever.”
…Huh?
Only then did Lin Hening realize how weak he felt. His head was spinning, his body aching. No wonder even walking to the door had felt like dragging lead weights.
Now, a wave of chills washed over him, and he felt lightheaded.
Gu Fei pursed his lips. Worried that Lin Hening would collapse face-first onto the floor, he sighed and reached out to steady him. “Are you alone here?”
Lin Hening mumbled, “There used to be a cat.”
“…”
Gu Fei sighed again and helped the wobbly prosecutor inside.
Gu Fei asked, “Where’s the light switch?”
Lin Hening muttered, “Thirty centimeters to your right.”
The living room lit up.
Lin Hening sat down on the sofa and watched as Gu Fei placed the takeout bag on the coffee table. Then, Gu Fei asked, “Where’s the thermometer?”
“First drawer on the left side of the TV cabinet.”
The thermometer was stored with various medicines. Gu Fei gave it a shake before handing it to Lin Hening.
As he held the thermometer, Lin Hening spent the next five minutes contemplating how he had managed to catch a cold.
Probably because he had gone out in just a thin shirt to look for the cat. He had worked up a sweat climbing the stairs, then spent the whole day out in the cold wind. Of course, he’d end up with a fever.
It wasn’t because he had a weak constitution—it just wasn’t fair otherwise.
Meanwhile, Gu Fei crouched down, rummaging through the medicine box. He picked up one bottle—expired. Picked up another—also expired.
“…”
He gave up and dumped the entire medicine box onto the floor, sorting through every single packet and bottle. Then, without hesitation, he gathered them all up and sent them to their rightful destination—the trash can.
“Time’s up.” Gu Fei reached out his hand. “Thermometer.”
Lin Hening had intended to check it himself, but his usual 2.0 vision had turned into 0.2. Before he could even make sense of the numbers, Gu Fei snatched it away.
“40 degrees.”
Lin Hening thought, No wonder I’m seeing stars. I’m practically blind.
Gu Fei said, “Hospital. Now.”
Lin Hening refused immediately. Who goes to the hospital for a common cold? Such a hassle. Besides, he was already feeling miserable—he didn’t want to move at all.
“No way, no way,” Lin Hening mumbled as he flopped onto the sofa. “I’ll just sleep it off. You can go.”
Gu Fei stood still for a few seconds.
Then, he really left.
The door clicked shut. He was gone.
Well, fine. They weren’t family or anything. It made sense for him to leave without a second thought.
Sure, they had a creditor-debtor relationship, but that didn’t mean he could keep Gu Fei here and treat him like a personal nurse.
Still… he regretted not asking him to pour a cup of hot water before leaving.
A few minutes later, the door opened again.
Lin Hening startled and looked up—Gu Fei was back?
Oh. The door hadn’t been fully shut earlier.
“I thought you left?” Lin Hening asked.
“I went to buy medicine,” Gu Fei replied. “All your meds were expired.”
Gu Fei scanned the living room, quickly located the kitchen, and walked in like he owned the place.
Lin Hening had been about to tell him where the pot, ladle, and gas switch were—but wait.
Hold on a second.
Gu Fei had left and come back in, what, ten minutes?
It took two minutes just for the elevator ride up and down. His building was over 300 meters from the neighborhood gate, and the nearest pharmacy was more than 800 meters away. Plus, he had to pick out medicine and pay for it…
Damn. This guy was fast.
Lin Hening couldn’t help but blurt out, “How are you this quick?”
Gu Fei, filling the kettle with tap water, answered casually, “I’d be even faster if I took the elevator.”
Lin Hening: “???”
Gu Fei plugged in the kettle and returned to the living room. With practiced efficiency, he unpacked the takeout, broke apart a pair of disposable chopsticks, and handed them to Lin Hening.
“You don’t want to go to the hospital? Fine. But eat first. Then take the medicine.”
Lin Hening looked down at the food.
On his left was moo shu pork. On his right, braised eggplant. Above that, shrimp and vermicelli soup. Below, sizzling tofu. And in the center, the beloved national classic—scrambled eggs with tomatoes.
Four dishes and a soup—this was practically a feast.
He silently sent his gratitude to Captain Jian.
Taking a few bites of rice, he winced as the pain in his throat flared up, but he forced himself to swallow.
He picked up a piece of tomato and egg. Originally, he had no appetite, but the flavors somehow awakened his hunger. Before he knew it, he had finished more than half a bowl.
Setting down his chopsticks, he noticed that Gu Fei had also poured him hot water and left it to cool on the table.
Lin Hening saw that Gu Fei didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, so he reminded him, “Isn’t your shop busy? I don’t need company.”
Instead of answering, Gu Fei raised an eyebrow and asked, “You’re sick, and you’re not calling your boyfriend?”
Lin Hening didn’t like discussing personal matters with people he wasn’t close to—especially not with Gu Fei, who had the unfortunate privilege of witnessing the mess Wang Tu had stirred up. That just made things even more awkward.
He mumbled, “He’s busy.”
Gu Fei didn’t pry. Instead, he got up and asked, “Where’s the bathroom?”
Lin Hening pointed, and Gu Fei disappeared inside for just a few seconds before coming back out—with a mop in hand.
Lin Hening: “?”
Gu Fei walked to the entrance, took off his Martin boots, and stood on the floor in a pair of thin black socks. Lin Hening instinctively wanted to tell him there were slippers in the shoe cabinet, but before he could say anything, Gu Fei had already taken a pair out and placed them on the floor.
“They’re a bit small for you,” Lin Hening added. “Just make do.”
And so, wearing slippers that left his heels half-exposed, Gu Fei mopped every part of the floor he had walked on.
Lin Hening sat there in a daze, feeling a warmth rise in his chest.
When Gu Fei finished and returned to the bathroom, the sound of running water and scrubbing could be heard. A few minutes later, he walked out, his hands still damp.
Lin Hening felt oddly self-conscious and wanted to say something. “…Thanks.”
Gu Fei responded calmly, “It’s only right.”
He didn’t say, Sorry, I rushed in and dirtied your floor. He simply cleaned it up without a word—less talking, more doing.
Lin Hening had never met someone like this before. He was a little reserved, but solid and reliable.
“Oh, right, Gu Fei,” Lin Hening suddenly remembered. “I still owe you for the noodles from last time.”
Gu Fei parted his lips slightly but said nothing.
Then, his phone buzzed. A transfer from Lin Hening—100 yuan.
Gu Fei looked surprised. “Where have you ever seen noodles that expensive?”
Lin Hening chuckled. “That includes the medicine. You really have a heart of gold, huh? Treating money like dirt, not even caring about it?”
Gu Fei said, “It still doesn’t add up to 100. The two medicines together were only 50 yuan and 2 mao.”
Lin Hening shook his head, amused. “The rest is a delivery fee. Really, thank you. Just accept it.”
Gu Fei didn’t tap to accept right away. Instead, he simply said, “The water’s cooled. You can take your medicine now.”
Hearing the phrase heart of gold made Lin Hening naturally think of Zhou Zhou.
He recalled that Gu Fei’s restaurant was quite large, even having a second floor. He’d never been up there, so he didn’t know if it was used for business or as a living space.
The location of the restaurant wasn’t bad, and Gu Fei served generous portions of delicious food at reasonable prices. Business had to be good. Lin Hening also remembered checking the takeout platform—the monthly sales were impressive.
Maybe he had underestimated Gu Fei’s savings.
But two million was no small amount.
To have saved two million before turning thirty, relying entirely on himself—sure, there were people out there capable of such feats. But if Gu Fei truly had that kind of money, he probably wouldn’t be driving a second-hand van.
As a creditor, Lin Hening found himself oddly worried about the debtor. “You’re willing to take a knife for your brothers, but shouldn’t you at least consider reality? Are you planning to sell the restaurant?”
Even if Gu Fei did, he’d still be short by half.
Gu Fei snapped a capsule blister pack with a crisp crack crack and said, “A farmer, no matter how poor, won’t sell his land.”
“Then what’s your plan?” Lin Hening wondered. If you’re thinking of taking out a high-interest loan, you might as well just owe me instead. At least I’m not in a hurry to collect, and I don’t charge interest.
Gu Fei handed him four capsules and suddenly asked, “Do you like the food from my place?”
Lin Hening froze. An answer vaguely surfaced in his mind, almost within reach. “…What do you mean?”
