032: Corn Tote-Car
Sang Zhao was horrified.
Was this normal? Hm? Hm hm hm?!
Had he just not pretended to be human long enough? Or was his experience in human society simply too lacking? He genuinely didn’t understand how a child could be floating across the pool like that. Was that normal?
He ran up to the kid’s dad and smacked the man’s arm with a loud pa, raising his voice.
“Big bro!!”
The man turned his head, expression completely calm. He nodded politely. “Hm.”
Hm your potato chips, what kind of reaction was that?!
“I can’t swim. If you need help, I can grab a rope or something. Do you need help?” Sang Zhao asked urgently.
The man glanced toward the pool. A soft, fatherly smile lifted his otherwise blank face. He raised a hand and waved at his child, then looked at Sang Zhao.
“No,” he said. “He’s playing great.”
Sang Zhao stared at him, speechless. He turned back toward the water.
The kid lifted his right hand, waved the toy car he was holding at his dad, then set it back on his chest and continued playing with it.
Two lazy kicks of his legs sent him turning around, drifting peacefully back the way he came.
Sang Zhao rubbed his eyes.
What? This tiny child could swim like this already? Meanwhile he, a dignified cat spirit, looked like the incompetent one.
He glanced at the child’s father again. This man’s posture didn’t move, not an inch. That level of serenity left Sang Zhao completely stunned.
“Sang Zhao? Why are you standing here?” Tang Yu walked over, puzzled.
Too exhausted to explain, Sang Zhao just pointed at the water, letting Tang Yu see for himself.
Tang Yu took one look and nearly popped his eyes out. His nerves were fragile to begin with, and the sight instantly activated his emergency instincts. He inhaled sharply, ready to leap in with a full-speed rescue sprint.
Sang Zhao grabbed him by the wrist before he jumped.
“That kid’s dad is sitting right there,” he muttered. “Not even a little anxious. He even said his kid’s doing great.”
Tang Yu stared again.
That tiny kid was lying on the water like it was a mattress. No float ring, no kickboard. Just a straight, quiet little body drifting along, hands holding a toy car on his chest, completely serene.
“Wow. That really is… a talent,” Tang Yu finally said.
Still uneasy, Sang Zhao tugged him away.
“He’s unbelievably calm. His kid’s in the water, and he doesn’t move. Not even a twitch,” he whispered.
Tang Yu also felt unease. When they ran into a staff member, Tang Yu asked a few questions.
He barely needed to describe the situation. The moment he mentioned “a kid floating like a log,” the staff member immediately knew who he meant.
“He’s talking about Tata, right? Tata’s family comes here all the time. Tata’s really comfortable in the water. Once he lies down, he’s super natural and super happy.”
“Yeah yeah yeah, one time he even put his rice bowl on his chest and ate like that. His parents didn’t stop him either.”
“Really amazing… maybe he was a fish in his past life, hahaha!”
Tang Yu nodded, reluctantly accepting it, but Sang Zhao hesitated. Something still felt wrong.
No, that didn’t add up. The kid was brave, sure, but wasn’t the dad a little too relaxed?
Weren’t humans supposed to be super protective of their only offspring? How was this “ah well, won’t drown, whatever” type of parenting normal?!
He couldn’t wrap his head around it.
He returned to check on Xia Moye. Of course, the dog was dogpaddling in his duck-shaped float ring, waving both hands when he saw Sang Zhao. The moment he waved too hard, he slid right down through the center hole with a shoop.
Tang Yu nearly had a heart attack again. Thankfully, the dog reacted fast, grabbed the duck’s head and stabilized himself, then happily paddled back to his friends.
After listening to a bit of the water safety lecture, Sang Zhao checked the time. It was almost noon, and he was hungry.
Just then, he spotted two familiar figures walking over. It was Tata and his father again.
Not hand-in-hand. Oh no.
Tata was lying sprawled across his father’s back. The father walked with a slight forward lean, carrying the kid across his shoulders. The boy’s head rested on top of the man’s head like a hat.
People stared as they passed.
The father’s expression was serene. Not a single ripple. As if he wasn’t carrying a whole child, but a particularly heavy piece of clothing.
Xia Moye sat at the pool’s edge, staring with pure admiration as they walked by.
Tang Yu noticed the longing expression and placed a warm hand on the dog’s head.
“Xiao Ye wants to try that, hm?” He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around the kid, and asked, “How about Uncle carries you like that?”
Xia Moye stared at his face. He didn’t say yes, but a few seconds later, he let out a dramatic uuuuuh and dove into Tang Yu’s arms.
He wrapped his arms around Tang Yu’s waist and burrowed into him.
Tang Yu softly ran his fingers through the little dog’s hair, smoothing it gently.
Sang Zhao watched.
Oh. So it wasn’t a cat-tote, but it was a very gentle corn-tote.
Except… why was it only for the dog? Did Tang Yu like dogs that much?
Holding the dog, stroking the dog, brushing his hair little by little, treating him so carefully.
Brother, isn’t cat-cat your favorite? Why’re you treating the dog so well?
Feeling sour, Sang Zhao grabbed Xia Moyè by the back of his collar and plucked him straight out of Tang Yu’s arms.
Tang Yu: ?
Xia Moye: ?
Before Tang Yu could react, the dog already understood.
He was very good at reading the room. Even if Sang Zhao wasn’t a normal human, he was pretending to be one, which counted.
So he immediately threw himself into Sang Zhao’s arms, hugging his waist and burrowing in.
This is what you meant, right? Hey hey, cat-cat, don’t be shy, come on, here’s your hug!
Sang Zhao froze, then placed a hand on the fluffy back of the dog’s head, mood complicated.
Excuse you. He didn’t want a dog hug. He wanted a human hug with gentle strokes.
Terrible world. Truly terrible. Please accept the insults of a small orange cat, thank you.
When everyone finished the water session, families went back to rest. But since the three of them weren’t tired, they changed clothes and went straight to the family restaurant for lunch.
Cats and dogs could not tolerate hunger of course. Even a little hunger made them sluggish and unmotivated.
The restaurant’s seafood was good, so they ordered steamed oysters and boiled shrimp. Also green pepper beef, honey chicken wings, oyster sauce lettuce, rice, and a plate of fried milk for dessert.
Once dishes were served, Sang Zhao gave the chicken wing a decisive stab with his chopsticks. Stabbing was easier than clamping, after all.
But when he tried to grab beef… things went downhill fast.
The first few attempts went well. Then he applied too much force, and the two chopsticks crossed into a giant X in midair over the plate.
Sang Zhao: …What was that?! He wasn’t performing acrobatics!
He retrieved his chopsticks nervously and looked toward Tang Yu.
Thank goodness, Tang Yu hadn’t seen. Because Tang Yu was staring at the table across from them.
They were apparently fated with Tata’s family, because the father and son had also come to eat.
Tang Yu was staring at Tata eating oysters.
Sang Zhao followed his gaze and froze.
Tata’s method of eating oysters could give any parent instant heart palpitations.
He was slumped in his child seat, half reclining. A bib hung from his neck, inside of which sat a rock.
Yes. A rock.
With all the strength of a small gremlin, he slammed oysters against the rock with loud bang bang noises.
Bang, cracked one, ate the meat.
Bang, cracked another, ate it.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
He had already opened three oysters.
Self-service. Self-sufficient. Minimal adult involvement.
And very loud.
Not just Sang Zhao’s table. Several nearby tables stared.
Kids being noisy was normal… but noisy like a woodpecker operating a construction site? That was rare.
People leaned over to watch like it was a dolphin show.
Xia Moye’s jaw dropped.
He suddenly didn’t want to fight for who resembled a dog more.
This kid cracked oysters with a stone. Who knew if he'd crack a dog next?
Sang Zhao and Tang Yu exchanged a look. Both wanted to comment, but neither could find words.
Meanwhile, Tata’s father sat there chewing his salad like nothing was happening.
His child was making enough noise to summon the city sanitation bureau, but the father didn’t react. Not a twitch.
This was the very definition of emotionally deceased.
Unable to hold it in, Sang Zhao politely raised his voice.
“Big bro, your kid’s clothes are dirty!”
Oyster juice had splashed everywhere. The kid practically smelled like the ocean.
Shouldn’t the dad care at least a little?
Tata’s father chewed his lettuce, didn’t even look, and said:
“Oh.”
Sang Zhao swallowed three curses at once.
…Then could you maybe do something about it?! Why’re you sitting there chewing like a robot?!
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