Chapter 45

The phone placed on the bedside vibrated, and Xiang Mo casually picked it up to check. He found a message from the “相亲相爱一家人” (Loving Family) group chat.

In addition to the seven words in the group chat title, there were red, yellow, blue, and purple hearts. Before seeing the title changed like this, Xiang Mo had never thought that Du Chi’s dad, once he got familiar with him, would be so playful in his style.

【Du Bin: Link】

【Du Bin: Take a look at this article】

Xiang Mo clicked on the link and found an article about last weekend’s art exhibition and press conference. The article was published by a relatively authoritative public account in the art industry. While it was quite subtle, its core message was that one should be bold when engaging in art, and it provided a very positive evaluation.

【Du Bin: I have some friends interested in buying Xiang’s paintings】

【Du Bin: How much inventory do you have?】

【Du Bin: @Du Chi】

Du Chi’s dad must have accidentally tagged the wrong person.

Xiang Mo’s profile picture was Sanmao, and Du Chi’s was Sanmei. Both had the backdrop of the small garden on the third floor. It was easy to mistake them.

Nevertheless, despite the mix-up, when it came to matters involving elders, Xiang Mo still replied. Even though his current posture wasn’t very convenient, he managed to type with one hand.

【Xiang Mo: Not much left】

A response popped up in the chat box immediately.

【Du Bin: Then create more】

Xiang Mo would naturally paint when he felt like it. He hadn’t been prompted by elders to paint like this in a long time.

Art is something that can’t be coerced. Xiang Mo wasn’t in the mood to paint right now, which was why he was lying in bed.

“Mr. Xiang,” Du Chi, behind the easel, frowned disapprovingly. “Can a model play with their phone? Could you be a bit more professional? ”

Xiang Mo quickly sent an “OK” emoji in response. He put his phone back on the bedside table, adjusted his pose, and asked, “Haven’t you finished painting yet?”

Tonight, Du Chi was the artist, and Xiang Mo was the model. He lay on the bed on his side, naked, his long legs casually crossed, hinting at some kind of secret.

Du Chi wasn’t sketching, but painting in oils. They had started around 8 PM, and while they were painting, the bedsheets had ended up rumpled. They finished around 10 PM but started again later.

Now, it was past midnight, and Du Chi was still engrossed in his work behind the easel.

“Almost done,” Du Chi made the final strokes on the canvas. He looked at his work with a serious expression and nodded approvingly, seemingly quite satisfied. “Wife, come take a look. Can this level pass as your husband?”

Xiang Mo leisurely put on his pajamas and sleep pants. Just then, Du Chi said again, “When I have free time, I can also help guide your students.”

Indeed, Du Chi could offer guidance on basic art knowledge, as he had been an art major in high school.

However, when Xiang Mo came to the easel, his thinking immediately changed.

“What is this?” He stared at the abstract painting before him. “Why do my legs look like this? Are you painting radishes?”

The pure white pigment and straight lines were just too free-spirited, perhaps too much so.

Recalling the portrait Mr. Zhang painted of Mr. Li, Xiang Mo finally understood why Du Chi could appreciate his art. It was because Du Chi’s own paintings were even more abstract than Picasso’s.

“This is a simplified style,” Du Chi confidently explained. “You don’t have to depict every detail. People can tell these legs belong to you just by looking.”

“What about here?” Xiang Mo pointed at a certain organ in the center of the painting. “Why did you paint this part with such detail?”

It was evident that this part had consumed a lot of pigment and had been refined numerous times to achieve its vibrant texture. Xiang Mo suspected that Du Chi had spent at least half of their painting time on this area.

“Because this is the focal point of the painting.” Du Chi spread his hands as if introducing an exhibit, pointing at that area on the canvas. “See how it hides between your legs? Doesn’t it have the charm of a partially veiled pipa?”

Xiang Mo: “?”

“It bows its head in pity, don’t you find it cute?”

Xiang Mo: “Cute??”

“I also paid special attention to your lips.” Du Chi pointed at a blob of red pigment on the paper. “Doesn’t it look like a flower?”

The part that should have been lips was portrayed as an irregular circle. If one insisted it was lips, it looked more like puckered lips awaiting a kiss.

Xiang Mo skeptically furrowed his brows. “A rose?”

“No,” Du Chi shook his finger regrettably. “You haven’t grasped it. It’s not a specific flower, it’s an abstract flower. If I had to find a representation for it—”

He paused, then continued, “Don’t be fooled by the red color, actually, it implies chrysanthemums.”

Xiang Mo blinked and immediately understood Du Chi’s metaphor.

What kind of nonsensical things was this smelly dog thinking all day?

Xiang Mo took a deep breath and gritted his teeth, “So, you’re creating your own style now?”

He had never seen anyone use red to symbolize chrysanthemums—although it was indeed pink there.

“Of course.” Du Chi shamelessly declared, “This is what I call the Erotic Art Movement.”

“Du Chi!!” Xiang Mo’s voice rose as he pressed a hand against his chest. His furious shout startled Sanmao, who was sleeping in the dog bed, causing him to roll over.

“What’s wrong?” Du Chi, wearing a innocent expression, blinked. “Is my painting not good?”

“It’s good.” Du Chi was obviously doing this on purpose, and Xiang Mo falling for it only made him laugh harder.

At that moment, Sanmei in the birthing room suddenly emitted a meow, instantly rousing Sanmao, who had been dozing. He rushed to the birthing room and started anxiously calling to them.

Sanmei was about to give birth.

That was also why the two of them had been staying up all night in the room.

Right now, whether the painting was good or not was not important. They quickly washed their hands and sanitized them, standing outside the birthing room waiting for Sanmei to deliver. They were afraid that something might go wrong.

After a while, the amniotic fluid broke, Sanmei’s belly kept undulating, but there was no sign of the first kitten coming out.

“Is she having difficulty giving birth?” Xiang Mo anxiously furrowed his brow, unsure of what to do.

Du Chi called the veterinarian from the pet hospital, but it seemed the phone was on silent or nobody was answering. He tried twice but still got no response.

“It’s okay.” He seemed somewhat anxious too, but still reassured Xiang Mo, “Countryside cats are quite strong, Sanmei will be fine.”

After a few more minutes, the first kitten finally arrived. However, after removing the birth sac, it didn’t cry and there were no signs of breathing.

Du Chi used tissue and a suction bulb to clear the amniotic fluid from the kitten’s mouth and gently shook its body downward. However, even after a while, the kitten remained silent.

The expressions on both their faces became serious. Sanmao, sensing that something was off, let out a woof, causing the lifeless kitten in Du Chi’s hands to suddenly struggle and let out a loud cry.

“Sanmao,” Xiang Mo exclaimed, both surprised and relieved, as he rubbed Sanmao’s head, “You really know how to deliver babies.”

Sanmao barked a couple more times, then circled around Du Chi, clearly wanting to sniff the kitten, but also aware that he shouldn’t do so.

The next kitten, the second and third, were born more smoothly. Among the three kittens, there were two calico cats and one orange kitten, none of them with the same pattern as Sanmei.

After the third kitten, Sanmei remained motionless for a while. Xiang Mo supplemented her with canned goat milk and then leaned against the wall to sleep with Du Chi.

It wasn’t so much sleeping as it was resting with their eyes closed. The two of them and the dog stayed by Sanmei’s side throughout her labor, sharing in this significant event for their family.

After an uncertain amount of time, Sanmao’s barking woke them up.

Sanmei successfully gave birth to the fourth kitten. Whether it was due to experience or some other factor, she no longer needed Du Chi’s assistance; she was taking good care of the fourth kitten herself.

The fourth kitten was a Holstein, with black spots around its eyes, resembling a panda and exuding an endearing charm.

The fifth kitten was another calico. At this point, Xiang Mo was almost certain that it was the local calico cat that had defiled their pure Sanmei.

After a night of turmoil, Sanmei was evidently exhausted, but she still had one more kitten to deliver—number six.

Dawn was approaching, and the sky outside was gradually turning a pale blue.

Unlike the bustling scene to the west, the east side of the old villa complex was quieter. Only a few old low-rise buildings were visible. Xiang Mo had never woken up at this hour before and had thought of catching the sunrise, but the sun remained hidden behind clouds, showing no signs of emerging.

As Xiang Mo was about to succumb to sleepiness, the final kitten, the sixth one, finally arrived.

The sixth kitten was a tortoiseshell, with the same coat pattern as Sanmei.

Du Chi was slightly more alert than Xiang Mo. He picked up the sixth kitten and looked at it, then turned to Xiang Mo with a mildly surprised expression. “It’s a male.”

“Huh?” Xiang Mo’s drowsiness instantly disappeared. “Are you sure?”

During this time, Xiang Mo had done a lot of research and knew that male tortoiseshell cats were extremely rare due to genetic factors. It was said that their birth rate was about one in four hundred thousand.

After confirming the kitten, it turned out to be a male.

“Is this possible?” Xiang Mo placed the sixth kitten back beside Sanmei and scratched her chin. “You’re amazing, Sanmei.”

Sanmei lazily meowed, accepting Xiang Mo’s praise.

The six kittens crowded around Sanmei, each energetically nursing from her. Xiang Mo leaned against Du Chi’s shoulder, and Sanmao lay next to the birthing room. The two of them and the dog watched in silence. Gradually, the sun broke through the clouds, casting golden rays of light through the window onto their hair.

The dim room suddenly became bright, as if illuminated by sunlight, and as if lit up by the presence of these six tiny new lives.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Xiang Mo could hardly hold back a yawn.

“Need to catch up on sleep?” Du Chi asked.

“Yeah.” Xiang Mo leaned against Du Chi and closed his eyes completely. “Carry me over.”

“You’re becoming clingier.” Despite his words, Du Chi easily picked up Xiang Mo.

“I thought you liked it.” Xiang Mo wrapped his arms around Du Chi’s neck, his voice taking on a lazy tone. “If you don’t like it, I won’t cling to you.”

“Try me.” Du Chi glanced at the kittens in his arms. “You’re stuck to me for the rest of your life.”

In one’s lifetime, there were not only destined farewells but also destined encounters.

Luo Yang, Aunt Zhou, Zhao Shifu’s family gradually faded from Xiang Mo’s life, but he had Du Chi, he had Sanmao, he had a loving family, and now there was a new member in their family.

Once influenced by Xiang Mei, Xiang Mo stopped believing in marriage. Later, because of Qian Kun, he stopped believing in love.

What he thought was indifference was actually a form of avoidance. Perhaps Du Chi’s words were right; he had turned his single life into a kind of illness.

Every illness had a cure rate—some high, some low. Xiang Mo wasn’t sure about the cure rate for the illness of being single, but he believed it must be higher than one in four hundred thousand.

Sanmei gave birth to a male tortoiseshell kitten, something with such a small probability, yet it had happened. What else was impossible?

“Du Chi.” Xiang Mo lay on the bed, nestled in Du Chi’s embrace, and softly called out.

“Hmm?” Du Chi responded lazily.

“You’ve cured my ‘singlehood syndrome’,” Xiang Mo looked up at Du Chi.

“Perhaps,” Du Chi slightly raised his chin, a gentle curve forming at the corner of his mouth. He gazed into Xiang Mo’s eyes. “It will never relapse again.”

{END OF STORY}

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