025: Oh, You Have Someone You Like?
Sang Zhao was not satisfied.
He was already the type of slightly spoiled little cat, and after seeing He Sangchi again, he couldn’t help remembering the days they’d lived together.
Back then, no matter how spoiled he was, she’d praise him for it.
Good baby, good kitty, little cutie… all those nicknames and compliments came one after another, like they were going to praise his fluffy little body right up into the sky.
So why wasn’t it like that anymore?
How had it gotten to the point where he couldn’t even play with someone’s hair?
Wasn’t Corn Bean supposed to be comforting him right now? This didn’t look comforting at all… He’d just been so gentle a moment ago, and now he was shoving a poor little cat a thousand miles away.
Feeling wronged, Sang Zhao muttered fiercely, “Let me play with it.”
His tone was stiff and grumpy.
Tang Yu’s ears went bright red.
…This was unbearable. How could he say something so outrageous with such confidence! Did this man have any idea how he sounded? Talking nonsense. Absolute madness.
Tang Yu gripped the steering wheel, leaning as far away from him as he could. His back went ramrod straight.
When he finally spoke, his voice was shaking, like he’d run out of vocabulary and could only loop the same thing over and over, mumbling in circles, “This is too much. It’s really too much…”
Sang Zhao: ??
What was that reaction supposed to mean?
What, did touching his hair also risk revealing some furry ears like their demon forms? No way, right?!
And if not, then why not let a cat play with it!
Faced with Tang Yu’s stiff, straight posture, Sang Zhao was unconvinced, but instead of yelling, he grumbled under his breath, “Is it really that over the line to play with your hair? Why is your face so red?”
He leaned closer to study him, lifted a hand, and pointed at Tang Yu’s ears and the side of his neck. “Not just your face. Look here, and here. It’s all red, totally red.”
“That angry? Just from that? You’re mad enough to turn this red?!”
The more he said it, the more aggrieved he felt.
All this time he’d been thinking about it, wanting it so badly, so long… If even when he was this upset he couldn’t touch it, then under what circumstances would he ever get to touch it?
Thinking that, he drooped his head, even more miserable.
Sure enough, once you leave your mom, nobody treats a cat like a little kid anymore. Nobody loves a little cat with that same warm, careful, wholehearted intensity.
In the quiet car, Tang Yu naturally heard every word of his muttering.
He paused.
“…Uh.”
A short sound slipped out, then he slowly turned to look at him, expression clouded and voice drifting. “Oh. You meant… my hair.”
He stared at Sang Zhao for a moment, and repeated, “My hair. My hair.”
Sang Zhao thought, is this man some kind of broken recorder?
Corn Bean, Corn Bean, hair, hair… he just kept looping the important bits without actually talking properly.
But he really did want to play with it.
He was a cat, after all. Reading the room was not part of his skill set. Even in this weird atmosphere, with Tang Yu’s expression darkening like someone had spilled ink on his face, Sang Zhao still slowly slid his hand over, resting it on Tang Yu’s forearm and kneading it like sticky rice cake.
He gave two little whiny hums. “Let me play with it.”
He was an impolite little kitty. He didn’t say please, didn’t say thank you, he just said: let me play.
There’s a saying: if you want to break a window, first declare you’re going to tear down the entire house. Then people will settle for letting you break the window.
That deeper logic was beyond this little cat’s comprehension, but the same principle was laid right in front of him.
If a request to touch the highest, most forbidden spot on someone’s chest didn’t get granted, then suddenly a request to touch their hair sounded downright reasonable. Easy, even.
Right?
Tang Yu watched him, taking in every bit of eagerness shining in his eyes.
In an instant, all those lurid, neon-colored mental scenes that had just flashed through his brain felt childish and absurd, like a wild, R-rated movie getting abruptly switched over to a kids’ channel.
His mind went straight from 18+ to children’s programming. Surround-sound in his head started singing: happy lamb, pretty lamb, the bear and the bald guy are fighting over trees again, the little puppy detective is on another case!
Tang Yu bent forward until his forehead rested lightly against the steering wheel.
He needed a second to get himself together.
After several deep breaths, he finally said, in slow motion, “Ah. My… little ponytail, right.”
Sang Zhao frowned. He wanted to say, that tiny thing? That’s just a little tuft, not a ponytail.
What ponytail? It was barely a rabbit’s tail.
But after glancing at Tang Yu’s face, he chose to agree with great enthusiasm instead. “Yeah, yeah, your ponytail!”
Tang Yu looked at him again.
Even though the kid had perked up, that pitiful, hurt expression from a moment ago was still burned into his mind.
He thought it over. He’d already turned him down once, and it was just hair, not… anything else. If he still refused, what kind of comfort would that be?
But could a subordinate kiss their boss? Obviously not.
Could a subordinate touch their boss’s head?
As soon as he hesitated, Sang Zhao tilted his chin up, eyes big and wet, looking at him like a pitiful stray.
Tang Yu gritted his teeth. “Fine. Go ahead.”
Sang Zhao’s eyes lit up with a soft biu. He stretched his hand out like a beckoning lucky cat.
Tang Yu swiveled in the driver’s seat to face him, lips twitching in a defeated smile.
Then he tipped his head slightly forward, exposing the vulnerable nape of his neck and the small, bundled little tuft of hair resting there.
His haircut was a wolf cut, thick and full on top. But down at the nape of his neck, the hair thinned out where it had been trimmed.
So his ponytail was really just this tiny little puff.
Curled and bunched together, it swayed a little left and right as he moved.
Sang Zhao stared at the fuzz of black hair, then at the smooth, pale skin of Tang Yu’s nape.
…Huh.
He pressed his lips together. His heartbeat thudded fast and hard in his chest.
The beast part of him started making calm, ruthless assessments, announcing that exposing one’s nape like this was a fatal lapse in defense. The excitement that followed was impossible to smother.
It surged up and up.
He was thrilled. Tang Yu willingly baring his neck like that absolutely delighted him.
You know what that meant? It meant that at any time, he could grab him by the scruff and drag him off.
Overjoyed, he reached out.
Tang Yu felt the movement approach and held his breath. His heart pounded like a drum.
It wasn’t even supposed to be anything intimate, just a bit of hair touching, but his fingertips still trembled.
And then, all those slow, gentle, teasing strokes he’d imagined… never happened.
As soon as Sang Zhao’s hand reached his ponytail, he slapped it.
“Pia—”
The sound was ridiculous. Full of momentum. Cat-force activated.
Tang Yu’s head jerked forward.
It didn’t hurt, of course, but it completely shattered his expectations.
It took him a second to register what had just happened. He… hit my hair.
A beat later, he realized, oh. No wonder Sang Zhao had said “let me play with it.”
He really did mean play. Like a cat going after a feather wand. One precise, explosive smack.
Tang Yu clapped a hand over his ponytail. “…?”
After a pause, he threw out his arm to block the second incoming smack, exasperated. “You’re not allowed to play anymore!”
The emotional whiplash was too much. He couldn’t take it.
He dragged in a breath. “I’m your boss who’s trying to comfort you, not a toy. Couldn’t you just… gently touch it a few times? Why did you have to slap it? You’re completely unreasonable!”
By the end, Tang Yu sounded aggrieved too.
Sang Zhao, meanwhile, didn’t understand at all what he was upset about.
He really hadn’t used much force. It was just a little pat.
That was how cats played with feather toys. Line up the aim, then whack and smack the feathers hard enough to stir the wind.
He’d only gotten to do it once before Tang Yu cut him off.
If he’d been told no from the start, maybe he wouldn’t have fixated so hard. But being allowed one smack and then immediately forbidden from touching it again made him itch all over.
He scooted closer. “Gege, let me play a little more.”
“I only hit it once, I didn’t even get to enjoy it.”
Tang Yu gave him a sidelong look. “‘Hit it once’? Hit. It. Once. This is my head, not a ball.”
Honestly, it didn’t hurt at all. What made it ridiculous was how seriously he’d prepared himself, only for that to happen.
If it had just been a few light pats, maybe he’d let it slide. But more smacks? His dignity as a CEO would never recover.
Tang Yu cleared his throat, sat upright again, and started the car.
No matter how much Sang Zhao whined and wheedled, he ignored him.
He did at least offer this consolation: “Anyway, you did hit it, and you did play with it. So stop curling up like a sad little mushroom.”
It was still early. He really didn’t want to send Sang Zhao home yet.
Driving through the streets, he smoothed out his mood, tossing all those messy thoughts out of his head.
Then he spoke softly. “Since we didn’t get to play badminton, I’ll take you to my secret base instead.”
When he smiled, his eyes curved gently, warm and bright.
He truly wanted to cheer Sang Zhao up.
When a man puts his heart into comforting someone, it’s hard not to be moved. Especially when he means every bit of it.
If Sang Zhao weren’t a cat, he’d probably already be dizzy with infatuation by now.
But he was, in fact, a little cat.
So when Tang Yu brought him to his “secret base,” which turned out to be a seaside cat café, his brain did not fill with “oh my god, he brought me to a place this special to him, does he like me?”
It filled with one thing:
So noisy. So noisy. So noisy!!!
Why would you bring a cat to a cat café? Did Tang Yu need a live interpreter or what?!
Still, he had to admit, the place was beautiful.
It sat right on the coastal road by the sea, a small villa with a garden. There were three or four parasols in the yard, shading wicker tables and chairs.
When the door opened, wind chimes jingled and a chorus of sugary meows rose to greet them.
Fluffy tails swayed. Cats crowded up against the glass partition, all staring at the entryway where Tang Yu and Sang Zhao stood.
Tang Yu greeted the owner like a regular, pulled on shoe covers, and stepped in. When he looked back, he saw Sang Zhao standing still, locked in a silent stare-off with a Ragdoll cat by the entrance.
“Come on in, Sang Zhao,” Tang Yu called. “Why are you just standing there?”
Why? Because he was glowering at this Ragdoll, that’s why.
He ducked his head and quietly hissed at it, “Scram, you poofy, ugly big white cat.”
The Ragdoll, of course, understood none of this.
Just like how, after Samoyed-turned-elementary-schooler Xia Moye started school, he could no longer get along with his old beagle friend, once Sang Zhao became human, he and non-demon cats had nothing to talk about anymore.
Not that that stopped him from muttering “you’re all so noisy” under his breath while surrounded by a chorus of meows.
Reluctantly, he pulled on shoe covers and stepped inside.
The Ragdoll came closer to sniff him, and he froze, then bolted for the interior.
Ugh, seriously!
In a cat’s eyes, Ragdolls were not soft, sweet princesses. To Sang Zhao, the Ragdoll barreling toward him looked like a chubby, greasy middle-aged uncle.
Absolutely not allowed to sniff him.
He fled like his life depended on it.
The café owner, cradling a tabby in her arms, watched his retreating back in surprise.
She asked Tang Yu, puzzled, “Is your friend afraid of cats?”
Tang Yu was puzzled too. “No, he really likes cats. Why is he running?”
He went after him. They wandered the shop together, then settled into one of the small private rooms in back.
“Private room” was a bit generous. There wasn’t even a door, just two curtains that could be pulled together. The pattern on them was a black cat pouncing on a ball.
Since they’d just had coffee, Tang Yu didn’t order more. Instead, he asked for two grapefruit lemon sodas, one tiramisu, and one berry shaved ice.
The room was small, just a manga shelf, a projector screen, and two beanbag chairs side by side.
While Tang Yu ordered, Sang Zhao sprawled all over his beanbag, inexorably inching closer.
“I want the berry one. I like berries!”
“I know,” Tang Yu said. “That’s why I ordered the berry shaved ice for you. Stop squishing me.”
“Get me the big size then. That one—” Sang Zhao jabbed at the menu. “The super large berry shaved ice!”
Tang Yu grabbed his shoulder to keep him from rolling right into his lap. “Okay, okay, stop crowding me!!”
Finally, Sang Zhao melted into the beanbag.
These beanbags were just big, sagging fabric balls on the floor that looked kind of sloppy, but once you sat down, wow, they were comfy.
He started out sitting upright. That quickly became leaning, then in a few minutes he’d slid into a full-on sprawl.
“Why did you bring me here?” he rubbed his eyes, already sleepy. “There are so many cats.”
Tang Yu looked around, and his gaze turned soft.
“I come here whenever I have time. The shop’s been open seven or eight years. I’ve been coming since they first opened.”
He lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. “This place is my treasure.”
A little gem he kept tucked close to his heart, rarely showing it to anyone.
“The owner started out rescuing strays. But when there were too many he couldn’t adopt out, he opened this café. The drinks and desserts are really good, the atmosphere’s nice, it’s never too crowded, and all the cats are chubby and well cared for. It’s my favorite place.”
“When I’m here, I just naturally relax.”
Sang Zhao thought about it, then remembered the Ragdoll by the door.
“Don’t humans really like Ragdolls? So why is there a Ragdoll here?”
Tang Yu sighed. “That one’s sick. Follow-up visits and meds are expensive, so the owner kept it. Other than that, most of the cats here aren’t conventionally pretty. Like…”
Right on cue, a tortoiseshell shuffled over, looking like a little ball of exploded black sesame.
From a human perspective, it wasn’t pretty. Brown and black fur mixed together, messy and mottled. Most people’s first reaction was probably “that’s ugly.”
Worried, Tang Yu glanced at Sang Zhao, only for Sang Zhao to gasp.
“Wow, you’re so pretty!” His voice shot up an octave. He held out a fist for the cat to sniff.
“You’re so pretty! How are you this pretty?” He kept repeating it.
Tang Yu blinked, then looked more carefully. He could tell now that Sang Zhao wasn’t saying it to be polite. He was genuinely excited.
He just kept going, “So pretty, so, so pretty!!”
Tang Yu went quiet, mouth half open, then closed again.
Honestly speaking, this tortie’s looks were… abstract.
But Sang Zhao’s delight was spilling out of his face that even the tortie itself looked startled by all the praise.
Tang Yu pressed his fingers to his brow, baffled. “You were asking about the Ragdoll earlier. I thought you’d prefer Ragdolls…”
The moment Ragdolls came up, Sang Zhao’s attitude was pure contempt.
He sniffed. “Tch. Those ugly big white cats, what’s so great about them.”
Tang Yu: …So big white fluff is ugly, but a burned sesame ball is pretty?
Wow. His tastes were… unique.
Then it clicked. No, that wasn’t it, Sang Zhao was just a really kind person.
Watching him play enthusiastically with the cat, Tang Yu’s heart went soft and sweet, like overwhipped cream.
Resting his cheek in his palm, he asked, “So do you like it here?”
Sang Zhao nodded hard.
And this wasn’t just a secret. It was a treasure.
Talking about that naturally led Tang Yu to say, “Everyone should have something they treasure most. This place is mine.”
Sang Zhao, clutching the tortie, pricked up his ears.
Everyone should have a most-precious treasure? Was that some kind of human rule?
He thought it over. Since he was pretending to be human, he had to follow all the rules, right? If other humans had this, how could he not?
And this one wasn’t hard at all. He didn’t need to make anything up.
He really did have one.
“I have one too.” He spoke mysteriously, voice soft.
He slipped a hand into his pocket, though in truth he was pulling the item from his spiritual sea, then took out his little handkerchief.
He smoothed it carefully, lowered his head, and stared at it. Just touching the edges made him think of He Sangchi again.
Wow… It really had been twenty years since she’d wrapped him in this cloth and taken him home.
His voice went wistful as he stroked the edges, careful not to tug too hard. “Someone really important gave this to me.”
When he turned back into a cat, he’d lie on it and knead it and think about his mom.
“This is my treasure,” he said quietly.
Thinking about mom gave him strength. It gave him the energy to keep going to work the next day.
To work… for Tang Yu.
Realizing that, he fell silent.
Huh. So how had he ended up here, hanging out with Tang Yu like this? It felt surreal.
Tang Yu, seeing him take something out, looked down as well.
He saw a handkerchief with several pink flowers embroidered on it, the edges a bit frayed but still delicately pretty.
It was an old-fashioned cotton hanky, the kind that clearly had years behind it. Sang Zhao had folded it neatly, kept it in perfect shape, and carried it close to his body where he could reach it anytime.
To treasure something like that for this long, and to say it was from someone important…
Tang Yu’s thoughts drifted, then clicked into place.
So… he has someone he likes.
He looked away.
Sang Zhao stroked it with one fingertip, smiling foolishly. The more he touched it, the happier he felt.
He held it up proudly to show Tang Yu.
But Tang Yu didn’t react with much interest. He glanced at it a couple of times, then turned his head away to look at the tortie, at the décor, at anything else. He just didn’t look at the precious handkerchief.
Puzzled, Sang Zhao asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
Tang Yu let out a long breath. “I just feel… a little stuffy.”
He tried to bear with it, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. Eventually, he pushed himself up.
When Sang Zhao asked where he was going, he answered, “To smoke a cigarette.”
Sang Zhao tucked the handkerchief back into his spiritual sea, gave the tortie a few more pats, and watched Tang Yu’s back with a wrinkled nose. He had no idea what was going on.
Tang Yu lifted the curtain and slipped out.
Once he was gone, the room was quiet.
Sang Zhao cleared his throat and started making soft “miwu miwu” sounds.
It was the sound cats used to call each other over: come here, come here.
Sure enough, as soon as he called, a whole line of cat heads popped out from beneath the curtain.
They all stared at him for a few seconds. Then several orange cats and orange-and-white cats, especially interested, padded in one after another to rub against him.
He’d still been half-distracted thinking about Tang Yu, but when all those ginger cats came over to play with him, he tossed Tang Yu’s weird mood right out of his mind.
He sneaked two pieces of freeze-dried treats from his spiritual sea and fed them around. Surrounded by meows, he felt like a little cat-king ascending the throne.
He clumsily used his phone to take photos of them. After taking a few, he sent them to Samoyed.
The Samoyed replied in seconds: “Cats! They look just like you!”
That made him instantly angry.
He held the voice button down and snapped back in a low, fierce whisper, “What? What do you mean ‘just like me’? What do you mean we look the same?!”
He kept his voice down, but it was full of teeth. “I’m not the same as them. Even my belly and paws are orange! I’m nothing like these cats with white bellies!”
Grinding his teeth, he formally declared his pride as a red mackerel, fully orange tabby.
“I’m a cat whose every single hair is orange!”
He ended the message, then flipped his phone face-down with great flair and turned gracefully…
Right into Tang Yu’s line of sight.
Tang Yu was holding two small boxes of freeze-dried treats, one in each hand. He’d lifted the curtain with his elbow and was tilting his head, staring at Sang Zhao.
Their gazes met, and Sang Zhao’s heart skipped a beat.
Instinctively, he sniffed. There was no harsh smell of smoke on Tang Yu at all.
He panicked.
Huh?! He said he was going out for a smoke. Why didn’t he smoke?!
If he’d smoked, he wouldn’t be allowed to touch cats. But if he hadn’t smoked, did that mean he was planning to touch the cat instead?!
Tang Yu’s expression was complicated. He looked at the cats sprawled everywhere, then at Sang Zhao.
He’d come back late and only caught the tail end of his rant. Just the last few words.
Still, he was confused. “What cat?”
“You said you’re a cat?”
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