If Only She Were a Young Woman…

The task of lowering the fever was, for Fei Yan, a piece of cake.

She first soaked a cloth in cold water and placed it on Chen Miansheng’s forehead, then went to the woodshed to boil a pot of hot water. With gentle care, she wiped down his neck, limbs, and palms.

Since Chen Miansheng didn’t drink, there was naturally no alcohol in the courtyard to help cool him down, so his fever took longer to subside.

Worried that his temperature wouldn’t go down before she turned back into a cat, Fei Yan’s eyes hesitated on Chen Miansheng’s inner robe. Gritting her teeth, she finally steeled herself as if facing death and reached out to undo his sash.

As she worked, she mumbled to herself, “I’m saving a life. I am not Chen Miansheng.”

After quickly loosening one side of his robe, half of his body came into view.

Perhaps due to years of illness, Chen Miansheng was quite lean, though his physique was well-proportioned. Under the flickering candlelight, his skin appeared even paler, making Fei Yan’s heart race and cheeks flush.

She deliberately avoided looking directly at him, forcing herself to keep her eyes away from where they shouldn’t be.

After wiping his underarms quickly, she tucked his robe back in place.

Next, she brought over a bowl of warm water, sat down by the bed, and carefully lifted Chen Miansheng into a half-sitting position against her chest. Holding him like this, she slowly fed him sips of water.

People in a fevered haze were always hard to manage. No matter how gentle Fei Yan was, a bit of water still slipped from the corner of his lips.

Worried it would soak his robe, she quickly set down the wooden bowl and reached to wipe it away—only to have Chen Miansheng reflexively stick out his tongue.

That tongue happened to brush lightly against Fei Yan’s fingertip—warm and damp. The sensation was like a jolt of electricity, sending a shiver up her spine.

Chen Miansheng’s brow furrowed slightly, and he gave another tentative lick before withdrawing his tongue.

He was unaware—but Fei Yan was very much aware.

With a thunk, she slammed the bowl back onto the table and stood up.

But with her gone, Chen Miansheng’s unsupported body immediately began to slump sideways.

Seeing this, Fei Yan cursed under her breath and hurriedly propped him back up. Once she was sure he wouldn’t fall again, she strode out of the room in a few quick steps.

To do what?

To sit in the courtyard—in the cold wind.

Tonight had caught her off guard in far too many ways. Her mind was a mess, and only after several minutes in the chill air did she finally begin to think clearly again.

She sat on the stone steps, arms wrapped around her knees, staring blankly at a corner of the courtyard wall.

She had to admit: ever since arriving in this era, her feelings toward Chen Miansheng had always been a bit ambiguous.

After all, ever since she crossed over, she’d been in a cat’s body—and thanks to the system’s imposed restrictions, her focus had always been: When will Chen Miansheng fall for her?

Never once had she paused to confront a different, more important question:

Would she ever fall for Chen Miansheng?

But now, that question wasn’t even a question anymore.

Fei Yan could say with certainty:

She liked Chen Miansheng. A lot.

And maybe, just maybe, those feelings had begun a long time ago.

But…

Fei Yan tightened her grip around her knees.

But what about Chen Miansheng? Could he really fall for an ordinary orange cat?

If she put herself in his shoes, it seemed highly unlikely.

Just thinking about it made her laugh bitterly.

A perfectly normal man—how could he possibly develop feelings for a cat?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden chime from the system in her mind.

[Affection level detected between Host and Designated Target. Congratulations, host. “Midnight Cinderella” has been upgraded — duration extended to two hours.]

Fei Yan blinked.

An increase in affection?

But wasn’t Chen Miansheng still unconscious with a high fever? Could someone grow more fond of her while unconscious?

Or… was he actually awake already?

Fei Yan cautiously poked her head back into the room, only to see Chen Miansheng still lying peacefully on the bed, eyes closed, showing no signs of waking.

Suppressing her doubts, she approached and reached out to check his forehead again.

The fever had gone down significantly compared to before. Fei Yan let out a breath of relief and resumed her work, tirelessly cooling him down again and again.

Minute by minute, time ticked by. Just before the system setting expired, Fei Yan returned everything to its original place, ensuring there was no evidence left behind. Then, she removed her inner robe, folded it neatly, and placed it back into the wardrobe.

What she didn’t realize was that the moment she opened the wardrobe, Chen Miansheng—still lying on the bed—slowly opened his eyes.

His mind was still hazy, vision blurry, but he could just barely make out a slender, snow-white figure standing by the wardrobe at the foot of the bed.

He had no time to process the situation. At that moment, only one thought rang out in his dazed mind:

He wanted to open his eyes wider—to see clearly who that person was.

Unfortunately, things rarely go as one wishes.

That figure vanished almost instantly, as if she had never been there at all.

Immediately after, Chen Miansheng felt the bed beside him dip under a weight, followed by the familiar fluffy touch of his little cat brushing against him. He could vaguely sense her tiny head burrowing hard into the crook of his arm.

___

The next morning.

Sunlight streamed through the lattice window into the inner room. Chen Miansheng’s brow furrowed ever so slightly as he slowly opened his eyes.

The instant the light entered his eyes, his thoughts blanked for a moment. He simply stared ahead for a while before gradually recalling what had happened the previous night.

He was exhausted. But rather than “tired,” the more accurate word might have been “worn out.”

As someone with a frail constitution, he was no stranger to fevers. Thinking back on the cold shower he had taken that night, he gave a self-mocking smile.

He knew himself better than anyone. He had always prided himself on being restrained and rational, never doing anything impulsive or foolish. Yet this time, he had let the fever run its course. It wasn’t until after dinner, when he could barely walk in a straight line, that he realized something was wrong.

But it was already late. He wasn’t sure he even had the energy to make it to the clinic, so he simply went to bed.

He was well aware that even if he passed out from the fever, Gu Wu would come check on him at the courtyard first thing in the morning.

But now—

Chen Miansheng slowly raised a hand to his forehead. Aside from a slight grogginess typical of just waking up, the fever had miraculously vanished completely.

Could a fever that high really go away just by sleeping?

Of course not.

His fingers twitched slightly by his side. He was acutely aware that there was something important he had forgotten.

Then, when he lowered his gaze and saw the little orange cat sleeping beside him, the memory came rushing back.

That’s right. He remembered waking up once in the middle of the night. In his daze, he seemed to see a woman standing in the room. His mind had been too foggy to make out her features clearly.

The next moment, that woman vanished as if by magic. And it was only then that his little orange cat—who should have already been sleeping by his side—jumped onto the bed to curl up next to him.

It all felt far too surreal to explain. The only plausible explanation was that he had been dreaming. But if that were the case, the dream had been unbelievably vivid.

Just then, the little orange cat beside him stirred slightly. The next second, she lifted her head as if suddenly awakened from a dream, and stared blankly at Chen Miansheng.

The man and cat stared at each other for a few seconds. Then the cat suddenly leaned forward and, with her fluffy head, pushed insistently into his palm.

Mm. Good. Her temperature had dropped to a normal level. Her effort last night hadn’t been in vain.

Fei Yan, satisfied, pulled her head back. Her tail swayed lazily behind her, and her dark, moist eyes blinked up at him in a way that couldn’t be more obedient.

Chen Miansheng’s heart softened at once. He reached out and rubbed her little head.

He had never believed in the supernatural. In the past, when people tried to treat his illness, some had even suggested hiring shamans or performing rituals, but he had always refused, knowing that no amount of effort would make a difference.

But now, Little Orange had become the one and only exception.

For the first time in his life, he found himself hoping that those shamans, those spirits and ghosts—they were all real.

If Little Orange could really turn into a human, how wonderful that would be.

But such a thought was laughably absurd.

Chen Miansheng chuckled at himself and lifted the quilt to get out of bed. As he habitually looked up, his gaze caught on the candle by the bed, and his movements paused for a moment.

Though he hadn’t been in the best state last night, he clearly remembered that the candle had just been replaced the day before yesterday. Based on how fast they usually burned, it should’ve lasted at least five nights.

And yet now, only two nights later, it had burned all the way down, leaving nothing but a pool of wax in the lamp dish.

There was only one explanation—someone else had been in the room during the night, lit the candle, and kept it burning for quite a while.

Chen Miansheng’s hand, resting at the side of the bed, tensed almost imperceptibly. His fingertips turned pale from the pressure, like some emotion had surged to a breaking point in that instant.

Just then, the little cat rubbed against him again. He looked down and met her gaze.

He had seen that expression on her face many times before—ears slightly drooping, tail swaying slowly, her jet-black eyes moist and glimmering.

It was an expression common to any cat.

But this time, Chen Miansheng realized—belatedly—that he could clearly read the emotion in her eyes: worry. A human emotion.

He pressed his lips together and gently placed his palm on her head. When he spoke, he noticed his throat was a little dry.

“I’m fine.”

And in that moment, a new thought suddenly occurred to him. His tongue pushed lightly against the roof of his mouth, and a faint smile curved his lips. Half-jokingly, he said:

“If Little Orange cares about people this much, it would be wonderful if you were a young lady. Whoever married you would be incredibly lucky.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he distinctly felt the cat’s body flinch ever so slightly, like she was suppressing some emotion.

Because his palm was resting on her, even such a minuscule movement didn’t escape him.

Chen Miansheng subtly raised his brow and tilted his head down, following the little cat’s line of sight.

He let out a lazy “hm,” dragging the sound just a bit.

“What are you shaking for?”

He asked.

The little cat froze, then tilted her head and blinked innocently at him a few times.

Clearly pretending to be clueless.

But Chen Miansheng still picked up on the growing tremble in her body—she was nervous.

He narrowed his eyes slightly and fell silent for a moment before letting out a low chuckle. His tone was casual:

“Just teasing. Little Orange is only a cat. How could you possibly turn into a human?”

As he spoke, his fingers slid down to the tag on her collar, absentmindedly tracing the back of it.

Oh well, the days ahead were still long. There was no need to push her too hard just yet.

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