CHAPTER 7: CATS

Today’s schedule was relatively relaxed, with Jade Dragon Snow Mountain as the main attraction. But after spending time on the bus as well, by the time they returned to the hotel, it was already seven in the evening.

Chen Jiayan enthusiastically invited Ruan Zhizhi to join them for dinner, but after a full day of physically demanding activity, she had already reached her limit just getting back to the inn.

She raised a hand to her forehead, forcing down the dizziness and nausea, and politely declined. Then she followed the group of gray-haired professors up the creaking wooden stairs of the inn.

It wasn’t until she returned to her room that Ruan Zhizhi finally allowed her nerves to relax. She sat on the bed staring blankly out the window for a while before slowly getting up to take a hot shower.

Water splashed everywhere, steam filled the small room, and the air became warm and comforting.

After showering, she carefully put on her pajamas, dried her hair, and stepped out of the bathroom. She absentmindedly pulled a fruit candy from her backpack to replenish her energy. When she unwrapped it, she realized it was also orange-flavored — the same as the one Shi Yan had handed her in the car.

Strange… why did she remember such small details so clearly?

To be fair, the inn was very conveniently located, right in the heart of Lijiang Old Town.

Once she tidied everything up, Ruan Zhizhi stood by the window, idly looking out at the night view. For some reason, a deep sense of loneliness washed over her.

Her parents had separated when she was very young after years of a marriage that had descended into mutual resentment, finally breaking up when she was in high school. Since then, she had lived with her mother, who had always been a strong, busy woman. Apart from financial support, she had little time to care for her.

Quiet by nature, Ruan Zhizhi had never experienced family warmth, nor did she have many close friends — until she went abroad and met Li Sicheng. He approached her, introduced her to his friends, and gave her initial warmth and companionship in a foreign land.

For the past three years, no matter how difficult things were, she had clung to that small, pitiful memory, unwilling to forget it.

Leaning against the window, Ruan Zhizhi drifted into thought, lost in her memories.

Late at night, a cool breeze blew in from the half-open window, making her shiver.

Tomorrow, they would leave Lijiang for Shangri-La. Should she… go out one last time tonight?

After a brief mental struggle, she surrendered to her restless impulse. Too lazy to change clothes, she stepped out wearing her cotton pajamas with a down jacket loosely thrown over, hair down, face bare.

The streets of Lijiang were built along the mountains and rivers, rich in history, delicate in texture. The cobblestones glimmered under the night lights, exuding an ancient charm.

Hands in her jacket pockets, Ruan Zhizhi strolled leisurely through the bustling old town. After a busy day, she felt unusually relaxed.

She wandered into Sifang Street, the central square of Lijiang Old Town, often called the heart of the old town. The area preserved much of its Ming and Qing architectural style, with tiled houses neatly lined up, intricate and exquisite.

The streets were lively, especially at night, illuminated by colorful neon lights that created a dazzling, dreamlike atmosphere. Shops selling Yunnan handicrafts were everywhere. After browsing for a while, Ruan Zhizhi decided to pick a small gift for Gu Nian, since she had essentially taken his spot on this Yunnan trip.

After careful consideration, she chose a finely crafted pink-and-blue lotus-leaf shawl.

But when she went to pay, the most awkward moment occurred. Perhaps because she had left on a whim, she had forgotten to bring her wallet.

“Little miss, you have such good taste! This shawl is the last one. Originally 120 yuan, but I’ll sell it to you for 100,” said the shop owner, a woman in her early thirties, her long, narrow eyes full of warmth.

But now, not only could she not pay 100 yuan — she didn’t even have a single yuan in her pocket.

What should she do… so embarrassing…

As she stood there flustered, unsure of what to do, that impossibly familiar voice appeared again, like a hallucination, saving her.

“Boss, one hundred even.”

Instinctively, she turned toward the sound. There was Shi Yan’s hand, pale with well-defined knuckles, holding out a 100-yuan note to the shop owner.

The owner accepted the money with a smile and efficiently began wrapping the shawl as a gift.

“Ah… I’m really sorry. I’ll pay you back at the hotel,” Ruan Zhizhi murmured, head lowered, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

Shi Yan didn’t reply, only glanced at her silently.

Ruan Zhizhi felt mortified, utterly ashamed. But… why did it always happen that every time she got into a situation, Shi Yan happened to be there?

The coincidence was not comforting — this man was too dangerous. Even the calm, self-controlled Ruan Zhizhi feared she might accidentally fall into those deep, dark eyes.

After the purchase, the two of them naturally walked side by side through the crowded streets.

They walked in silence, the atmosphere strangely tense.

After a while, Shi Yan broke the silence first. “You haven’t eaten anything tonight?”

“Mm… not yet.” Ruan Zhizhi shook her head honestly.

Without asking, Shi Yan stopped by a nearby street stall and bought some snack.

For her?

…No way.

When he handed the steaming food to Ruan Zhizhi, she genuinely felt a little stunned.

“Thanks, but it’s fine. I’ll just go back to the hotel, grab my wallet, and come back to buy it.” Ruan Zhizhi shook her head firmly. She really couldn’t keep accepting help from a stranger, even with the tempting food in front of her.

Shi Yan frowned. “You’re not hungry?”

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to ignore the fragrant food, keeping her gaze neutral. “Not hungry.”

He lifted his eyes to her, his tone carrying a hint of insistence. “Eat. It’s already late.”

The implication was clear: if she waited until returning to the hotel to get her wallet, the street vendors would probably have packed up and gone home.

The lights stretched on for miles, reflected in the rippling water. Shi Yan stood against the flow of people, quietly watching her. His black eyes always carried a faint weariness, a sense of detachment from the world, but at this moment, they seemed almost touched by life itself—warm, knowing, and accepting.

After a long pause, Ruan Zhizhi finally raised the white flag, surrendering to the depths of his gaze.

“Alright… thank you.”

Taking the food from him, she opened the packaging. It was a local Yunnan specialty: Lijiang sticky rice cake.

Warm, soft, and chewy, it seemed to heat her heart as well.

She walked while nibbling on it, thinking that she absolutely had to repay him at the hotel. Her memory was terrible, and if she forgot, he might think she was deliberately holding back. That would be terrible.

Then, an idea struck her—simple and convenient.

She swallowed a bite of the sticky rice cake and mumbled somewhat incoherently, “Shi Yan… why don’t we add each other on WeChat? I can send you the money right now through a red packet. That way I won’t forget later.”

She said it while staring unblinkingly at him, feeling an unexpected nervousness.

Shi Yan didn’t hesitate at all. He immediately handed her his phone.

She opened WeChat, tapped the add friend icon, typed in his ID, and added him. Done.

Ruan Zhizhi didn’t even glance at his chat history, quickly returning the phone. Considering all the help he had given her over the past few days, she decided, for the first time in her life, to take the initiative with a stranger.

“If you ever need anything, let me know. I’ll definitely help if I can.”

She expected him to nod perfunctorily, or even ignore her. But unexpectedly, he turned his head and looked down at her. The corners of his lips lifted slightly.

“Really? I won’t hold back then.”

“…Haha, alright, no need to be polite. Just say it if there’s something,” Ruan Zhizhi said stubbornly, regretting her words the moment they left her mouth. This man looked far from easy to handle.

They chatted lightly as they walked, eventually reaching the rockery at the guesthouse entrance.

“Meow.” A long, slightly coaxing meow sounded. Before Ruan Zhizhi could react, a snow-white cat dashed out from behind the rocks, leaping straight into Shi Yan’s arms.

Animals were far more enthusiastic than people. Ruan Zhizhi bet that the fellow traveler, Yan Rui, wouldn’t dare be so bold.

Shi Yan pursed his lips, gently stroking the cat as it settled in his arms. Ruan Zhizhi watched, struck by how beautiful the scene of man and cat was.

“You like animals?” she asked.

“Only cats.”

Curious, she pressed on, “Why?”

He rubbed the cat’s head, then set it down and stood straight. “Cats are very particular about their partners. They’re always independent, so they’re always lonely.”

Lonely…

Without thinking, Ruan Zhizhi blurted out, “Like you?”

Shi Yan’s lips curved into a faint smile. Due to the height difference, he habitually lowered his gaze to meet hers. There was a subtle sparkle in his eyes, and his voice was light, almost dissolving into the wind.

“I meant… like you.”

Ruan Zhizhi couldn’t sleep. All because of Shi Yan’s words.

She tossed and turned in bed, her mind racing, still trying to figure out what he meant.

On impulse, she grabbed her phone. Shi Yan was far too enigmatic, so she decided to snoop through his Moments.

To her disappointment, the mysterious man hardly posted anything, and most content was dry, professional updates.

The only thing that caught her attention was a post from three years ago—the very first post he ever made on Moments.

It was a cover song titled False Truth.

Recalling the events at the bar the night before, Ruan Zhizhi thought it would be a waste not to hear Shi Yan sing, so with curiosity, she pressed play.

“I don’t want to ruin the false truth, faithfully forgetting my identity. One day, you remain unmarried, yet I cannot accept it.”

It was a melancholic Cantonese song, his voice low and slightly hoarse, the pronunciation surprisingly precise.

Compared to now, three years later, his voice seemed colder, gloomier, devoid of any worldly warmth—completely isolated.

“Even if you marry tomorrow, I still cannot accept it.”

…

For some reason, her eyes grew damp as she listened.

Was Shi Yan also longing hopelessly for someone far away? Just as she missed Li Sichen.

She rubbed her slightly sore eyes and typed carefully into the post: Very beautiful. Good night.