030: Cats and Dogs Can’t Eat Chocolate
Sang Zhao was completely serious.
He wasn’t some kind of demon, and he definitely wasn’t a bad-hearted cat who teased humans on purpose with ambiguous lines just to mess with their feelings.
He would never do that.
His silly, straightforward idea was just that he wanted someone to call him good baby, good kitty, and coax him a little more. So that when he wanted to feel loved and he wouldn’t always have to rely on kneading his little handkerchief.
He stared at his phone screen since Tang Yu still hadn’t replied.
He frowned and tilted his phone, tapping the side a few times.
You okay in there? You’re a glowing brick, you’re not supposed to just break this easily, right?
But if it wasn’t broken, then why had it swallowed Tang Yu’s reply?
Why hadn’t Tang Yu replied yet?
He tapped the phone again, and finally, a reply came through.
Tang Yu didn’t say what he’d expected. He didn’t call him good baby, or the cutest little kitty in the world. He didn’t even say the simple two-syllable word “baby.”
In the voice message that came over, Sang Zhao had to crank his volume all the way up just to hear it clearly.
It was a low, soft, very gentle voice, just a short little call:
“Xiao Sang Zhao.”
Sang Zhao pressed his lips together, brows knitted, and feeling very complicated.
On one hand, he thought, Corn Bean didn’t take me seriously at all. He didn’t call me baby. He’s still just calling my name.
On the other hand… he secretly hit replay over and over again, listening to that one call many times.
Actually, it sounded pretty nice!
It also kind of felt like being loved.
He decided to accept it happily. He replayed it again with a pleased little smile, fished out his treasured handkerchief, shifted into cat form, and started enthusiastically kneading away, purring in contentment.
As he purred, sleepiness crept up on him.
Then he suddenly remembered: that water summer camp was three days and two nights.
If they were going to be together for three whole days and two nights, that meant not only sleeping together, but eating together too.
Eating together was a huge hurdle.
Whenever Tang Yu had tried to take him out to eat before, he’d refused every time. The real reason was that he wasn’t very good with chopsticks. He could use them, but not well.
If they ate together and he kept dropping food every time he tried to pick it up, it wouldn’t just be embarrassing. He was genuinely worried Tang Yu would start suspecting him of being a spy.
Otherwise, how does a perfectly good Chinese person not know how to use chopsticks?
Very suspicious.
It wasn’t his fault though. Before he became a Chinese person, he’d been a full-time Chinese cat.
The fact that he could even barely use chopsticks now, after studying in class and relying on his natural genius, was already a miracle.
No time to waste. To avoid blowing his cover, he had to cram and practice his chopstick skills, fast.
Once the thought appeared, he acted on it.
In cat form, Sang Zhao sprang into the air, then shifted mid-jump and landed on two feet. He struck the pose of a hero dropping from a high point: one knee bent, legs spread in a half-crouch, one hand on the floor, the other arm angled back.
He felt incredibly cool.
Since you had to pick things up with chopsticks anyway, and he didn’t have any special little practice balls, he just plopped down beside his cabinet and started picking up freeze-dried treats.
Pick one up, then eat one.
Maximum motivation, maximum diligence.
Seriously, who else practiced this hard? Who?
He trained for an entire night. When he went to work the next morning and sat at his desk, the motions of using chopsticks were still running on loop in his head.
The weather was muggy that morning and the secretarial staff group-ordered milk tea. Last time he’d tried the strawberry snowball ice drink, so this time he followed them and got a green-grape smoothie.
Fifteen yuan. A bit pricey, but it tasted amazing.
The green grapes had this special refreshing note, coupled with the cold of the ice. One sip and his brain felt clear and clever.
A tiny bit of tart, with a lingering sweetness. If he took a big suck on the straw, there was grape pulp gathered at the bottom, filling his mouth with fruitiness.
He downed half the cup in one go, then chomped on the straw and slowly sipped the rest.
Again, fifteen yuan felt a little expensive, but honestly, it was worth it.
Now that he was a person, he had to eat and drink tasty things. That was the only way to live up to all the hard work of being human! Cats deserved all the slightly expensive things!
He thought that, but he still opened his WeChat wallet to check his remaining balance. He squinted carefully at the number.
Not bad. It was still four digits!
Hahaha… ha… ha…
Hmm? 56.83. He thought about that “four digits” part. Was it five thousand something?
Impossible. The Yao Administration Bureau had only given him one thousand.
Oh. He narrowed his eyes at the decimal point.
It was fifty-six yuan and eighty-three cents.
…Huh??
How was it fifty-something? How was there only fifty left?!
He finally realized he was broke.
He’d started with one thousand. Now, almost three weeks had passed. He ate lunch at the company cafeteria, didn’t pay rent or utilities or internet or property fees, and used a prepaid subway card the Bureau had loaded for him.
Yet he was still out of money.
His living costs had already been drastically reduced. Why did it still run out so fast?
He rarely ordered delivery either. Delivery was expensive so he almost never ordered it!
It was just that once he learned how to shop online, he’d been ordering cat cans and freeze-dried treats like crazy. How was it still this expensive?!
He sat at his desk with a calculator in hand, angrily and clumsily tallying up his expenses.
There was no way the money disappeared that fast. Clearly WeChat had stolen his cash. He wanted it returned to the cat!
After half an hour of hard, clumsy math, staring at the string of numbers, his hostility finally faded.
Oh.
So it was all his own stomach’s fault.
He rubbed his face, embarrassed, and expression going blank.
Fantastic. Being human, truly fantastic.
Whatever money he had, he’d just shoveled directly into his mouth.
The glorious days of eating one meal, skipping two, and diligently starving… had officially begun.
But heaven clearly still favored cats.
He wolfed down two servings at lunch, fully prepared to wait until tomorrow noon for his next meal, when he got back to his desk and discovered his salary had been deposited.
He checked the date. July 10th already. Okay, payday made sense.
His linked bank card pinged with a transfer: 3167.48.
If only there weren’t any decimal points, he thought, then it would be three hundred thousand.
But three thousand one hundred sixty-seven yuan and forty-eight cents was pretty good too.
Three thousand wasn’t much for a human, but more than enough for a cat. And he could spend it comfortably.
He quickly transferred it to his WeChat balance and sat there happily staring at the number, grinning to himself.
After a while, another thought floated up.
He turned to ask An Tihu, “I didn’t even work a full month. Can I really get a full month’s salary?”
Hadn’t Director Li said his monthly salary was just over three thousand?
He’d only worked for nearly three weeks, not even a full month. Was he really allowed to get that much?
The amount was generous enough that even he felt doubtful.
An Tihu thought it over. “Looks right.”
“You started before the twenty-fifth, so it counts as a full month’s pay,” she explained. Then she sighed a little to herself. “President Tang’s pretty decent. Generous, too. He carries most of the pressure himself and doesn’t dump it on the staff. He’s a good leader.”
Yeah. Sang Zhao thought so too. Tang Yu even gave him time off.
Compared to that panther boss in the wild, Corn Bean was a gentle, plant-based, high-quality employer.
So, in the days leading up to Friday, his top priority was conquering the chopsticks problem.
But even by the night before departure, Thursday night, he still wasn’t proficient.
If he joined a group meal like this, he’d just drop everything he tried to pick up. It wouldn’t just ruin his own food, it would ruin the meal for everyone.
Eating was a serious business.
He was so anxious he had to dash downstairs and bang on the Samoyed’s door.
Ye Ye had cartoons on and was packing his bag. He opened the door, saw Sang Zhao, and happily barked a few times.
“Cat hello! Cat came! Cat come in!”
When Sang Zhao stepped inside, he saw the room was a disaster. Trainers stacked beside a hair dryer, homework notebooks sitting next to canisters of chips and snack bags.
Noticing his stare, Xia Moye hurried to explain, “I’m not bringing those. I’m not bringing the homework. I’m going to play, not to do homework.”
Sang Zhao didn’t care about that at all.
He solemnly pulled a pair of chopsticks from behind his back and aimed his gaze at the snack pile, sharp eyes spotting a half-bag of broad beans.
“So here’s the thing…”
He told Xia Moye about his chopstick troubles. Under the dog’s shocked stare, he grabbed the broad beans.
“Practice with me a bit. I really feel like I’ve improved, but once I use them too long, I still drop things all the time.”
Xia Moye tilted his head, thinking it over, and actually came up with a perfectly “good” solution.
Which was:
“Cat just eat less, then you won’t need chopsticks as much! If cat eats less, then cat won’t be exposed!”
Ye Ye said this sincerely, seriously, and very logically.
Naturally, Sang Zhao was not nearly so reasonable.
The moment he heard that, his fur practically stood on end.
He brandished the chopsticks and viciously attacked the broad beans, his determination intense enough to scorch heaven and earth.
“Why should I eat less? I’ll tell you right now, I will not cut down even a single bite!”
“I—” He picked up a broad bean and set it down.
“Am going to—” another bean up, another bean down.
“Eat my meal!”
The next broad bean went up… and this time, he didn’t have to set it down himself.
He mis-angled the chopsticks, and the two sticks scraped across one another at just the wrong moment. The broad bean trapped between them did a sudden little backflip and launched itself into the air.
Perfect aim, tragically.
It flew with a spiraling spin, twisting and flipping… and smacked straight into Xia Moye’s forehead.
The kid jumped out of his skin. “Who?! Who fired the shot?!”
He clapped a hand over his forehead and stared at Sang Zhao.
Sang Zhao held his chopsticks and stared right back.
After a long beat, Sang Zhao forced himself to stay calm and said gravely, “See? And you say I don’t need to practice.”
When Xia Moye lowered his hand, there was a neat red mark dead center on his forehead.
Round, like someone had taken a bite out of him.
How nice. At least a broad bean god had volunteered to kiss the dog for him. A direct bean-kiss to the forehead, red mark guaranteed for days.
—
The next day was their beautiful Friday of departure for the water summer camp.
They’d agreed in advance that Tang Yu would drive them. He’d even asked if he should go to two different places: one for “student Xia Moye’s home” and one for “Sang Zhao’s home.”
But Sang Zhao immediately said that Xia Moye’s mom would drop him off near his place, so they could just meet at the McDonald’s near his loft apartment. Then they could eat breakfast.
The first half of that speech was complete nonsense. The second half, about McDonald’s breakfast, was absolutely true.
Eating McDonald’s breakfast was one of life’s purest joys.
Xia Moye had a sausage and egg McMuffin meal, but that wasn’t enough for Sang Zhao. After his meal, he went on to devour six hash browns.
Not six at once. He ordered one, finished it, then another, finished that, and still wanted more. Then he ordered two more… in the end, he’d eaten six total.
Xia Moye let out a siren-like wail. “Stop eating! You’re so scary, cat-cat!”
Slumped in the chair, Sang Zhao looked dazed.
“This hash brown… is it magic?” he murmured. “How can it be this good?”
Crispy outside, and inside it wasn’t just mashed potato paste either. It was little individual pieces of potato. Those potato bits were probably standing in neat little lines, that’s why the texture had so many layers when you chewed.
The crust was fragrant, the inside soft, not greasy, not heavy. When he finished one, it felt like the potato god had done a tap dance on his tongue, then vanished.
All he could think about was eating another hash brown.
“Really?” Xia Moye’s eyes lit up at once.
They exchanged a look… and silently ordered two more hash browns together.
They were still eating when Tang Yu pulled up.
He’d already had breakfast at home, so he only ordered a coffee and sat there watching them eat.
Being watched like that, Sang Zhao suddenly felt self-conscious. He mumbled, shamelessly shifting the blame onto Ye Ye, “The kid’s greedy. He insisted on McDonald’s.”
Xia Moye quietly exposed him, “This is McDonald’s.”
Tang Yu chuckled and shot Sang Zhao a teasing look.
His temperament was steady and his mood good. He only said, “It’s fine, we’re still early. We could finish McDonald’s and then go have KFC after, we’d still make it. We don’t need to be there until ten.”
Also… from the moment he walked in, his eyes had barely left Sang Zhao.
He’d only lazily glanced at the kid when Xia Moye called out a greeting.
Which was why this was the first moment he noticed Xia Moye’s forehead.
He let out a little surprised sound, leaned across the table, and gently touched the red mark. “What happened here?”
Xia Moye half-complained, half-played the victim: “Uncle hit me in the head!”
“So your uncle’s that mean, huh?”
Tang Yu looked over at Sang Zhao, his gaze carrying a hint of reproach.
Sang Zhao felt a tiny bit guilty, but not very. He rubbed his nose, and after a moment, his confidence came back.
“I’ll be careful next time,” he said.
Xia Moye was unconvinced and started chanting, “Uncle Tang, Uncle Tang, Uncle Tang!”
Like if he shouted enough, Tang Yu would pick up chopsticks, broad beans, and snap one at Sang Zhao’s forehead too.
With that chant ringing in his ears, Tang Yu’s memory rewound all on its own.
He sighed and shook his head at Sang Zhao.
“First you stop calling me Tang-shuge, and now your nephew’s calling me Tang-shushu. You two really…”
Sang Zhao quickly stopped Xia Moye from calling out again.
He gave the dog a look. “The boss is only twenty-five. You’re already nine. Why are you calling him uncle? Call him gege.”
He thought he’d nailed it this time, sure he’d hit one of Tang Yu’s weak spots.
He hadn’t expected Tang Yu’s reaction to be even stronger than his.
Tang Yu rushed to stop them, practically about to slap his hand over Xia Moye’s mouth.
“Uncle is fine. Just call me uncle.”
No way could he be gege.
If he became gege, he’d drop a whole generation below the “uncle-and-auntie” combo. That was absolutely not acceptable.
Xia Moye was confused, but under Tang Yu’s firm gaze, he obediently said “uncle.”
Satisfied, Tang Yu leaned back and sipped his coffee, the cup hiding the lower half of his face while he sneaked a look at Sang Zhao.
Once they’d eaten and drunk their fill, the three of them got in the car and officially headed for the resort.
Tang Yu’s trunk was loaded to the brim. He’d brought more than three times as much stuff as the two of them combined.
Most of it was for the other two, especially the kid. Tang Yu clearly knew how to take care of children. He had no patience for random naughty brats, but this one was different.
This one was Sang Zhao’s kid and he wasn’t naughty. He looked very well-behaved.
Honestly, he was really caring for the cat who came with a child. With the “kids included” package, his caretaking instincts were going wild.
Once they were all buckled in, he softened his voice.
First he leaned over to fasten Sang Zhao’s seatbelt, then turned back to give Xia Moye in the back seat a few extra instructions.
“Okay~” Xia Moye drew out the word happily. He was so excited he agreed to everything.
The drive to the water camp out in the suburbs would take about two hours on the highway.
Afraid the kid would get bored, Tang Yu connected his phone to the car and prepared to put on some cartoons.
“Just for listening, not watching,” he said.
“Watching in the car makes you carsick. Listening is better, alright?”
At that moment, Xia Moye was sitting bolt upright in the back seat like a freshly forged little steel plate.
Hearing this, he refused with great dignity.
“Uncle Tang, I’m a big kid who just finished third grade. I don’t need cartoons to stay quiet. Only kindergarteners watch cartoons.”
From the rearview mirror, Tang Yu glanced at him and laughed. “In my eyes, even Sang Zhao is still a kid. Let alone you.”
Sitting in the passenger seat, Sang Zhao gave a classy little smile. “I want to listen.”
What a joke. Two hours on the road? A dog might endure it, but a cat would be bored out of his mind, and so would any human.
Tang Yu tapped his phone twice. “Paw Patrol okay?”
Paw Patrol, huh.
Conveniently enough, Ye Ye was a dog. That lined up perfectly.
Give a little dog a dog-themed cartoon. Tang Yu really was a very kind human.
At the beginning, Xia Moye held out. Maybe he felt he should show gratitude since Tang Yu was driving them and providing everything, so as a dog, he ought to be polite, well-behaved, and not cause any trouble.
So he sat in the back and maintained his very proper posture.
But as Paw Patrol unleashed its full power, the little dog was gradually drawn in.
Normal cartoons with sheep or bears or whatever had never hooked him like this.
But this was different. This was a dog cartoon.
Even though he was currently only a primary schooler with no idea what “rescue” really meant; once upon a time, back when he was still a dog, he’d had dreams of being a police dog.
Too bad he wasn’t a German Shepherd, a Malinois, or a Springer. He was just a big ball of cotton candy.
The more he listened, the more engrossed he became. His posture relaxed, he slid forward, then leaned through the gap between the front seats, sticking his doggy head into the space between driver and passenger.
Occasionally he’d throw in his own commentary.
“So brave!”
“Wow, that’s really amazing!”
“Woo woo woo I want to join too!”
When it got really exciting, he’d spring back to the rear seat and shout, “Brave doggies never fear danger! Paw Patrol to the rescue! Go! Woof woof woof!!”
Tang Yu was driving and nearly jumped.
He lowered his voice and whispered to Sang Zhao, “Wow. Xiao Ye’s dog impression is really realistic… This kid has talent. Have you ever thought about sending him to study mimic acting?”
…Excuse me?
Sending their pure-blood Samoyed off to acting school? To do what, stage plays?
And you can see “talent” from a dog bark? Of course the kid’s bark was realistic. When a real dog barks, how could it not sound like a dog?
As for that suggestion that Xia Moye should study acting, Sang Zhao was even more speechless.
He waved it off. “Acting what? He only knows how to bark. He can’t even meow properly.”
Listening to the cartoon, with the car rolling toward the summer camp, Xia Moye’s mood soared.
He looked outside at the clear sky. The blue above was dotted with fluffy cotton-wool clouds.
The happiness was so solid and real it completely overloaded his small dog brain.
He whined twice, then wriggled forward again into the space between the front seats.
Left was Tang Yu, right was Sang Zhao. He looked at one, then the other, trying his best to express his gratitude.
“I’m so happy. Thank you guys! Thank you, Uncle, thank you, Uncle! You’re my wings!”
Tang Yu burst out laughing.
Sang Zhao rubbed his arms like he had goosebumps and took a deep breath. “Eugh, don’t learn such greasy lines.”
Tang Yu, however, took it very well. “Thanks, Xiao Ye. Uncle likes you a lot too.”
“Oh, right.” He suddenly remembered something. “There’s chocolate in the pocket behind your seat. You can have some.”
Samoyed·Real Dog·Fake Student·Xia Moye: “…Whine.”
Uncle didn’t want to be his wings. Uncle wanted to poison him.
Sang Zhao perked right up. “What? Let me see.”
He twisted around, reached back, and pulled a chocolate bar from his own seatback pocket.
“I’m your wings, huh?” He shoved the chocolate toward Xia Moye’s face. “Come on, eat some. Maybe it’ll shut you up.”
He stretched his arm out dramatically. “I’m going to poison you!”
Tang Yu just kept driving smoothly, letting them clown around.
Hearing that dramatic declaration, he assumed it was a joke.
But for some reason, the little student was terrified. He kept dodging and protesting, “No, no, no! Uncle, Uncle, no!”
The more Xia Moye dodged, the more seriously Sang Zhao chased him around with the chocolate.
The two of them were such a pair that Tang Yu laughed until his abs ached.
He had thought Sang Zhao was just teasing the kid.
Unexpectedly, after waving the chocolate under the boy’s nose for a long time, Sang Zhao pulled it back.
He never actually gave Xia Moye any.
“He can’t eat chocolate,” Sang Zhao said casually.
And not only did he refuse to give Xia Moye any, he didn’t eat it himself either. Instead, he held it up and asked, “If you want it, gege, I’ll feed you.”
Tang Yu was puzzled. “There are kids who don’t like chocolate? Oh, can’t eat it. Then why don’t you eat it, Sang Zhao?”
“Uh…” Sang Zhao’s eyes wobbled away, just a little. “I, I also…”
No. If he said he couldn’t eat it either, wouldn’t that look way too deliberate and suspicious?
“I had too much already,” he mumbled. “I can’t eat any more.”
“Then keep it. You can eat it when you feel like it later,” Tang Yu said. He still sounded curious.
“Can’t eat it… Is he allergic to chocolate? That’s pretty rare.”
There was one thing Tang Yu did know for sure.
“I just know cats and dogs can’t eat chocolate.”
He tossed that out casually, but in this car, the cats and dogs who couldn’t eat chocolate were internally panicking.
Xia Moye looked up at the sunroof and let out a guilty little whine.
Sang Zhao slipped the chocolate into his pants pocket, forced himself to stay calm, and gave a light cough.
“Really? Yeah?” he said, faking ignorance. “I had no idea. Gege, you’re so knowledgeable.”
…That was way too deliberate. It even sounded a little sweet and sticky, like he was deliberately flattering him.
Logically, Tang Yu knew he was exaggerating.
But with that little rise and fall in Sang Zhao’s voice, and that bright, drawn-out “gege” at the end, he still had to clear his throat and cough softly before he could straighten his face.
He forced his lips down and pretended to be serious. “It’s really nothing.”
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