016: First, Scrounge Some Cat Food!
He thought it over very carefully and decided… no, this wasn’t the right time.
Tang Yu really didn’t look like he urgently needed that.
So he let it go, feeling a little deflated.
Otherwise, he honestly did want to show Tang Yu what a barbed tongue looked like. If not for his mission to pretend to be human, he would’ve loved to crack Tang Yu’s worldview clean open.
Because Sang Zhao had figured something out by now: Tang Yu didn’t actually have that much nerve.
To put it bluntly, Tang Yu was kind of timid. He hid it well, with his reliable CEO face and all, but from what Sang Zhao could see, the psychological shadow from that one scene with An Tihu still hadn’t fully faded.
Since his nerves were shaky, it only made Sang Zhao want to scare him even more.
Sang Zhao sighed and forced the idea back down.
No, he had to keep up his good little human act. Otherwise Director Li would probably show up from the Yao Bureau with a rocket launcher, chasing him down the street… and then all his wandering around eating and drinking would be over.
Absolutely not.
So he just muddled through. “Exactly. My tongue doesn’t have any barbs either. Definitely not. My cat tongue is just like yours, it only means I can’t handle hot food.”
That was technically true. Tang Yu watched those shifty eyes and thought, so what on earth is he feeling guilty about?
With that kind of guilty face, it was impossible not to care.
Tang Yu really couldn’t figure him out. But since everyone was busy eating at the tea break and there was so much food laid out, it didn’t take long for Sang Zhao’s attention to drift away.
His focus and patience were about on par with a three-year-old. Anything more than that just didn’t exist.
Once he was done with the grilled salmon, he went hunting for desserts.
The dessert table looked lovely. The paper cups and plates were all delicate, the clear glasses sparkled like crystal. Soft cake and scones and bagels sat inside, looking cute and tempting under the lights.
Trying to be restrained, Sang Zhao only put three desserts on his plate.
Then he walked two laps around the table, still holding his plate, and noticed the little note cards tucked among the fresh flowers.
Each card had a short line written in a different script: some Chinese, some English, and some in a language Sang Zhao couldn’t even identify.
He stared at one of them, and Tang Yu noticed.
Tang Yu walked over, followed his gaze, and glanced at the card. “Spanish,” he said.
“As in, Spanish.”
Then he lowered his voice and read the line out loud, the syllables flowing like a quiet little tune.
Blinking, Sang Zhao turned to look at him.
He noticed Tang Yu’s expression had gone very still. It was hard to read, but it seemed complicated.
Tang Yu translated for him. “Roughly, it means: ‘A little talent is still not enough to enter the hall of true genius… but I’d still rather be myself.’”
He sounded a little thoughtful. “Academic conferences always like to toss in things like this. You could call it… humanistic concern.”
Sang Zhao didn’t really get it.
“Concern about what?” he asked. Strange. Where was the cat concern?
He’d come to this conference just to see if the tea break was good. He didn’t see anything here that needed concern.
If anyone needed concern, it was probably the salmon and lamb chops being roasted to perfection out there.
Tang Yu kept his eyes on the line of text. Conferences like this really did make you feel the gap in talent. Putting up these motivational quotes was probably the organizers’ way of trying to be kind.
“This was written by a senior in the field, in the afterword of one of his books,” Tang Yu explained. “Later, people started using it a lot in this circle, kind of like a little pep talk for each other.”
Tang Yu’s voice was pleasant and his tone was gentle. Even a cat like Sang Zhao, who had no patience and fell asleep listening to speeches, focused when he talked.
Tang Yu sighed softly. “Humans are small. Talent matters a lot. Plenty of people have a bit of talent, but a bit isn’t enough. A little talent doesn’t get you into the hall of geniuses, so a lot of people end up hating that they have just enough to feel it… it hurts more than having none at all.”
“But even if it hurts, after thinking it through, you still decide you’d rather be yourself. That’s kind of what it’s saying.”
Wow. In a little cat’s eyes, these were very complicated, very deep words.
Complicated things about life and talent and fate were extremely cool to hear… especially because a little cat would never think about any of that. A little cat only cared about when it could sneak into the cupboard for freeze-dried snacks.
Listening to him, staring into Tang Yu’s eyes, Sang Zhao’s gaze brightened like a pair of high beams.
Life, talent… this Tang Yu who talked about all that, with that little bit of sadness in him, suddenly seemed very impressive.
He’d never realized smart people could be this cool, saying these kinds of cool things.
“So you think that way too?” Sang Zhao asked.
Tang Yu thought for a moment, then answered seriously. “More or less.”
“If I were really gifted, my company would already be in the Fortune Global 500 and listed everywhere by now.” He let out a small laugh.
Then he shook his head. “But that’s not the case. I still get upset whenever something comes up. I get stressed, and the first thing I want is a cigarette.”
Tilting his head, Sang Zhao watched him carefully.
If a soul had the brightness and warmth of a flame, then right now, Tang Yu felt less bright and less warm than before.
Sang Zhao gestured vaguely, but he couldn’t really describe this feeling.
He fumbled for words. “Then… then…”
“This sentence is meant to encourage people,” Tang Yu cut in gently, waving a hand. “Realizing your own shortcomings but still choosing to be yourself is… a little bit admirable, I think.”
His eyes curved with a smile, warm and soft. For a moment, Sang Zhao had no idea what to say.
Looking at him, Sang Zhao felt that Tang Yu was like that patch of warm sunlight from long ago, back when he was still a little housecat for his first owner, sliding across the tile floor on his fluffy belly and lying at the glass door on the balcony to sun himself.
In that sunlight, he could see tiny dust motes floating in the air. Just like now, Tang Yu was showing him some of the reality of human life.
But even so, he still liked lying in the sun.
-
By the time the conference ended, it was already past five in the afternoon.
Tang Yu drove and said he’d take Sang Zhao home.Now that the Samoyed that made Sang Zhao nervous wasn’t with him, he could finally give Tang Yu the address of his loft apartment in a dignified manner, instead of making him stop at a random subway station.
Tang Yu was clearly a bit happier about that.
It was rush hour, the roads packed. Sitting in the passenger seat, Sang Zhao leaned against the window and watched the world go by.
This was the kind of lively scene he’d never been able to see as a housecat.
Everyone was hurrying somewhere, traffic lights flipping red and green, the city swallowing and spitting out cars without stopping for a single second.
Tang Yu turned on the car radio. Soft music drifted through the cabin as the road ahead blurred into lines of buildings that stretched all the way to the horizon.
He stopped at the entrance to the building, parked, then leaned over to unbuckle Sang Zhao’s seat belt.
“Thanks for keeping me company at such a long, boring conference,” he said.
It actually wasn’t that bad. It was boring, but Sang Zhao didn’t have to learn anything, and the tea break really had been delicious.
So he looked at Tang Yu with hopeful eyes. “So… if there’s a chance next time, will you still take me along?”
“I really want to go play again,” he said, putting on a pitiful little face.
Tang Yu studied him for a moment, taking his time, enjoying the sight of that fake innocent, fake aggrieved expression, then finally chuckled and nodded. “So we’ll call that a promise?”
“Of course!” Sang Zhao answered promptly.
Tang Yu glanced around at the building, taking in the dense, towering lines of the loft complex.
“So many units in one place…” he said, sounding a little worried. “That’s a tall building with a lot of people. Is it inconvenient, living here?”
Sang Zhao didn’t know how to answer.
A lot of people? Not really. No people here at all, actually. It was all yaoguai.
So it was pretty convenient. Everyone kept a polite distance, minds their own business. After almost a week of living here, the only one he really knew was the Samoyed downstairs.
“It’s fine,” he summed up.
Tang Yu nodded, encouraging, speaking to him like a patient, grown-up elder. “Things will get better bit by bit. Life always finds a way to turn in your favor.”
Sang Zhao nodded.
Yeah, just keep muddling through for now. Who knew, maybe one day he’d get to be a cat again.
Tang Yu seemed like a good person, too. If he ever got the chance to re-enter the pet-cat profession, he wouldn’t go wandering the streets looking for some random soft-hearted god again. He’d just go straight to throwing himself at Tang Yu.
Decision made.
They said goodbye. He went upstairs, and once he was inside, Sang Zhao turned back into a cat.
Flopping onto his back, he sprawled across the dining table.
Thinking it over, he still felt that Tang Yu, talking about talent and life and all that looked cool, but also kind of sad.
Why did humans feel sad about being small?
He didn’t really understand, but somehow he sort of did.
Back at nine in the morning, hiding in the stairwell to smoke because he was already upset, Tang Yu must’ve had a lot on his mind.
Maybe, as a troublesome yaoguai, he was part of that trouble too… Sang Zhao thought guiltily.
Thinking that, he muttered, “I should comfort the boss a little.”
“He still has to pay my salary.”
So he opened WeChat. Instead of sending a voice message, he spent five whole minutes painstakingly typing out a line.
【 Dont bee sad, bicause meowmi is also very meowxiu.】
When Tang Yu received it, he stared at his screen for a long moment, then finally understood what Sang Zhao was trying to say.
Don’t be sad, because cats are small too.
The corners of his mouth lifted. A smile spread across his face.
He could feel what Sang Zhao was trying to do.
It was such a clumsy attempt at comfort.
Don’t feel bad about how small humans are, because cats are small too.
Up on the table, Sang Zhao rolled over and flopped down on the tablecloth, thinking hard.
But if that really did comfort you, then the cat would be happy.
And if you could make a cat happy, then you were pretty amazing, weren’t you?
Author’s Note:
Tang Yu: Compared to those max-level successful humans, I must be a pretty lousy human, right?
Sang Zhao: Not at all! You’re the great human who takes little cats to eat at tea breaks! A… great… big… human! (runs all over with four paws) (scratching everywhere) (meowing and muttering nonstop)
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