035: Please Bark!
Kids. Little sprites.
From this moment on, Sang Zhao decided that those two were his favorite words to describe himself, second only to “little cat.”
He still wasn’t entirely sure whether “little sprite” was supposed to look like a tiny yaoguai or something else, but as long as it came out of Tang Yu’s mouth, it had to be something pretty cute.
Sounded like some kind of little monster too. That, he liked.
In his mind, his cuteness wasn’t the soft, delicate kind. It was the weird, offbeat kind.
That way, he’d be the rarest, most special, and therefore cutest little cat of all.
So when Xia Moye came back, what he saw was Sang Zhao in a fantastic mood.
Head tilted, eyes on his phone, but his focus was obviously nowhere near the screen.
He’d glance up at Tang Yu, then up at the teacher, then back at his phone like it only existed to check the time. Cats really didn’t like class. His whole brain was just, when is this over? When is this over?
And yet no matter how you looked at him, his mood was so good it seemed like he was about to burst into song.
Curious, Xia Moyè asked, “What happened?”
Why was he this happy? Something good must’ve happened, right?
He looked around the classroom, thought about it, and came to a very dog-brained conclusion.
“You really like foreign languages, huh? Is that why you’re so happy?”
He got excited.
“Then you should come study foreign languages! How about we switch? You go to school, and I’ll go to work!”
There had been a time when Sang Zhao truly considered that. Back then he’d thought going to school would be easier, and more fun than work. No need to clock in, and he could still collect a government allowance from the Yao Bureau.
But looking at it now, with Xia Moye’s student life stretching endlessly out in front of him, with so many subjects to learn and so many exams to take, going to work suddenly seemed pretty good.
Especially going to work for Tang Yu.
The workload wasn’t heavy, he could slack off a lot, and his boss constantly took him out for good food. That kind of leader was rare.
A boss with a little fluffy ponytail, secretly calling him “little kid” and “little sprite,” was even rarer.
So he shook his head. He definitely wasn’t taking that trade.
He was still busy being happy about that brave little elementary schooler who saw him struggling and kindly explained the Spanish phrase.
One line from a kid, and his heart would stay warm all year.
“I’m not going to school,” Sang Zhao said, stepping half a pace back so even his body language was rejecting the idea.
But he still really wanted to share his happiness.
He leaned in to whisper to him, “He said I’m a little sprite.”
Just thinking about it made him giddy.
And that reminded him of a thought he’d had before.
He’d sort of thought it in passing back then. Now, he realized he really meant it.
“I think he’s a really good person,” Sang Zhao said quietly. “If I ever go back to being a cat, I wanna be his cat.”
He meant every word of it.
Tang Yu was patient, had a good temper, liked cats, and had never had much luck with animals before. If he became Tang Yu’s cat, Tang Yu would definitely treat him extra gently and dote on him doubly hard.
Forget waiting around for some softhearted god to take pity on him. He’d just go straight to Tang Yu.
The image alone made Xia Moyè’s heart melt.
He could just see it: Tang Yu being so gentle, carefully brushing the cat’s fur, letting the cat sleep in his bed. If the cat got hungry at night and meowed, Tang Yu wouldn’t get mad at all, he’d just get up and make him food.
And Tang Yu had money. A cat living with him definitely wouldn’t have a hard life.
The more he imagined it, the more perfect it sounded.
He was a dog, and dogs were extroverts. When they saw something good, they didn’t just sit there watching.
Dogs always wanted to get in on it.
That was exactly how Ye Ye felt.
He pictured it for a little while, thought, This is a good home. If it’s got a person and a cat already… why can’t it have a dog too?
Ye Ye wasn’t here to break them up. Ye Ye was here to join in.
Worked up by his own fantasy, he blurted, “Then I’ll go be his dog!”
And he really did have logic to back himself up.
“I think he really likes me too. When I was in dog form, he even kissed me. I must be his favorite big white fluffball.”
As soon as Sang Zhao heard that, his expression went… complicated.
He thought about it from the left. Wrong. Thought about it from the right. Still wrong. However he thought about it, it felt wrong.
No. Absolutely not. Xia Moyè could not join.
Muttering under his breath, he very seriously told him, “You’re my dog. You’re not allowed to be his dog.”
He refused to accept Tang Yu having a dog, and he refused to accept Xia Moyè being Tang Yu’s dog.
That was that. He felt perfectly justified.
Humans just needed cats.
Dogs could tolerate a house having both humans and cats. But in a cat’s mind, a house with just him and the human was the ideal setup.
Dogs were sticky and slobbery. If you really had to have one, it could sleep in the yard.
The two of them kept huddling and muttering to each other for a while.
By the time the evening activity wrapped up, the kids were in great spirits.
They’d learned snippets of different languages, and nobody was getting graded on anything. Even if their parents pushed them a bit, playing games with the foreign teachers was still fun.
So the kids weren’t tired at all.
And Ye Ye was definitely not tired.
His build was the kind that could pull a sled in Siberia and farm potatoes at the same time. His energy reserves were ridiculous.
He refused to go back to the room and just kept pestering Sang Zhao to go play more.
But Sang Zhao was already at the end of his daily energy bar.
He was a cat. A cat only had so much social stamina in one day. At some point, he had to go back to his own territory, lie down, stare at the floating dust motes in the air, and quietly recharge.
If you actually forced him to keep being social nonstop, that was what gave him anxiety.
Right now, all he wanted was to get back to the room, flop on the bed, and mindlessly scroll on his phone.
They bickered and tugged at each other all the way from the conference room to the lobby without reaching any agreement.
They weren’t the daytime cat and dog anymore. They were the nighttime cat and dog. They’d just cracked the sea otter’s identity and had their alert levels maxed out.
Half vigilant, half squabbling, they suddenly saw Tata’s dad stroll in from outside.
With Tata on his head.
Yes, on his head. Before, he’d been carrying the kid piggyback. Now he was just straight-up using his head as a shelf.
Tata’s upper body was plastered to the upper part of his dad’s back, hugging his head koala-style.
The kid’s arms were clamped tight around his dad’s neck, clearly using a lot of strength, because his dad’s face was starting to flush the reddish-purple of mild asphyxiation.
They passed through the lobby in that bizarre posture, drawing stares like magnets.
Rubbing his eyes, Sang Zhao opened them again and saw the exact same scene: a man with a kid on his head.
Except he and Ye Ye knew that the “kid” was actually a sea otter.
“Woaah…”
He couldn’t help but gasp.
When it came to moms, his head was full of stock impressions and warm memories. When it came to dads, his head was empty.
Sometimes he even felt like Tang Yu was his dad.
But this was different. Now, he’d seen the sea otter’s dad. At once, he felt enlightened, like the word “dad” had broken through worldly limits and taken on a whole new depth.
So that’s a dad?
A man among men. A male among males. Walking along with a sea otter on his head, face calm. Throat gripped tight, and he didn’t even blink.
What kind of person is that?
Maybe the dad wasn’t exactly “normal” either. It was pretty obvious he was kind of insanely strong.
He was still marveling at that determined, unyielding neck when he glanced down, intending to quietly share his shock with Ye Ye and see if the dog was as stunned as he was.
Except the second he looked down, he saw Ye Ye’s expression full of pure envy.
The dog’s eyes were shining, gaze locked onto that father-and-son combo. Wherever they went, however far, Ye Ye’s eyes followed.
His brows drooped, the very picture of longing.
All his dog traits were laid bare in that moment.
“I wanna play too,” he muttered.
Dogs needed playtime. Again, dogs needed playtime.
Fortunately for him, Sang Zhao was in an excellent mood.
When his mood was good, he never skimped on indulging a dog’s childish wishes.
Earlier when Tang Yu had tried to give Ye Ye a piggyback ride, he’d stopped it, and Ye Ye had missed his chance to ride the “Corn Bean Express.”
Now, Ye Ye’s ride had arrived. No, his cat had arrived.
He didn’t waste time explaining, didn’t ask for an opinion, nothing. Without a word, he bent down and flung Ye Ye up onto his back.
Tang Yu, walking behind them, nearly had a heart attack and darted forward, arms outstretched in panic like he was trying to stay underneath them at all times.
He clearly intended to catch anything that might fall. Like, say, a kid landing headfirst.
But what kind of cat did he think Sang Zhao was?
He wasn’t some careless kitty without a sense of proportion.
He was a cat with a strong sense of self-restraint and excellent balance.
He and Ye Ye were both steady. No one was falling.
With Ye Ye balanced on his back, he wobbled in place for a few steps, then sped up as he got used to it.
Then he started running.
Tang Yu: …
“Don’t run! Don’t run!” He chased after them.
Riding a kid for a few steps was one thing. Why did he have to run?
What kind of behavior was this? Wasn’t this treating his own nephew’s safety like some adjustable slider set to “bare minimum”? What if the kid did fall?
But nothing he said helped.
Under the fascinated gazes of Ye Ye’s classmates, Sang Zhao ran a full lap with Ye Ye on his back.
He held Ye Ye firmly in place with one hand, and as he sped up, his head bobbed and his hair swayed.
His bright orange hair brushed right across Ye Ye’s face.
Ye Ye pushed it aside the way you’d push aside a sunset, trying to see the view from his brand-new, extra-tall height, seeing things he usually never could.
His silly laugh rang out crisp and clear, so happy it was almost obscene. His chuckles came in a continuous stream.
Tang Yu still trailed behind, tense, ready at any moment to dive and catch a falling child.
Yet even so, he couldn’t help being drawn in by the happiness radiating from the two of them, so intense it felt like it might spill over.
He found himself smiling, heart going all soft and cottony.
After a while, Sang Zhao finally set Ye Ye down.
Only then did Tang Yu let out a breath of relief.
But things did not unfold the way he’d imagined.
All that “indulgent uncle,” all that “look at the playful uncle giving piggyback rides,” turned out to be nothing but illusions and soap bubbles in his mind.
The second Ye Ye’s feet touched the ground, Sang Zhao lunged at him.
“Okay! Hurry up hurry up, your turn to carry me!”
Tang Yu: …
He honestly would’ve preferred to believe his ears had malfunctioned rather than accept what he’d just heard.
But Ye Ye, being a Samoyed, was exactly what you’d expect: not too bright, but very brave.
He was a courageous little dog, never afraid of hardship.
“Come on!” he agreed at once, eyes lighting up.
Watching Sang Zhao prepare to fling himself onto Ye Ye’s back so the kid could stagger around carrying a whole adult, Tang Yu shouted in horror, “Stop!”
“What are you doing?!”
He grabbed one of them with each hand, catching Sang Zhao by the arm and Ye Ye by the shoulders, pinning both in place.
“No messing around!”
Under his firm, non-negotiable orders, the cat got to carry the dog, but the dog did not get to carry the cat.
Obviously, that left Sang Zhao feeling shortchanged.
So that night, before bed, Ye Ye changed back into his big white Samoyed form, and Sang Zhao changed back into a little red tabby.
And in the master bedroom, the big dog balanced the little cat on his head and paraded around in circles.
At night, of course, Ye Ye didn’t sleep with Tang Yu. You could tell just by looking at Ye Ye’s apartment decor. With dog beds everywhere, of course he’d just sleep as Ye Ye, wherever he wanted.
An hour-long nap with Tang Yu was one thing.
But eight or nine hours in his bed at night?
Tang Yu would read a bedtime story, put a child to sleep, and then wake up with a dog in his bed. That would turn the story into real life and open completely the wrong door for him.
Naturally, Ye Ye and Sang Zhao slept together.
Ye Ye on the rug, the little cat on the big bed with his own little cloth laid out under him.
After such a good night’s sleep, they were in decent shape the next morning.
The second day was packed with activities too. Yesterday had mostly been a 10 a.m. gathering plus training sessions. Today was a full day, and they were going to make the most of it.
Under the staff’s guidance, the kids and parents headed out for kayaking.
The teaching part ran long, but everyone listened carefully. Except for the families who’d done it before, most were learning for the first time.
Once they finished the lesson, everyone put on life jackets and took to the water, with races between groups for rankings.
At first, it was Tang Yu taking Ye Ye out.
His style was very gentle. He focused on safety and making sure Ye Ye had fun.
After last night, he’d realized: results weren’t the priority. Happiness was.
He’d learned that lesson very earnestly.
Unfortunately, it was totally out of sync with what the cat had in mind.
When it was Sang Zhao’s turn to take Ye Ye out, the vibe changed completely.
He didn’t care much about Ye Ye’s doggy life.
At first, he just paddled lazily a few strokes. But after they fell behind and other kayaks started pulling ahead, his competitive streak snapped awake.
He shot straight up.
No way. No way are we finishing last. Cat paws always go on top. We’re not losing to anyone.
He started rowing like his life depended on it.
The problem was, he was the only one really putting in power, so the kayak’s force was totally unbalanced. The boat just kept spinning in place.
So he resorted to yelling at Ye Ye for extra power.
“Where’s all that sled-pulling strength from Siberia, huh? If you don’t use it now, when are you going to use it? This is the crucial moment! Look at that! Push!”
It wasn’t like Ye Ye wanted to slack off.
But even when he put his back into it, nothing changed.
He was ready to bark. He was a sled dog. What sled dog knew how to row a boat?
“Maybe we just let this one go,” he panted. “Next time there’s some cart-pulling contest, I swear I’ll get you first place!”
“No!” Sang Zhao gritted out.
“I’m letting it go!” Ye Ye mouthed off, though he didn’t dare actually quit. He kept rowing like an overworked ox while still arguing. “I’m letting it go. Two plus three, equals five!”
In the end, the hardworking cat-and-dog team pulled off a comeback, moving from last place to second-to-last.
They even overtook one whole boat.
After they crossed the finish line, Sang Zhao shot to his feet, fist in the air like he’d just conquered the world.
“I told you Team Cat can do it!”
And the kayak promptly tipped over.
He’d gotten up too fast and thrown off their center of gravity. The kayak tilted sideways and flipped.
Clinging to the side, life jacket keeping him afloat, he pushed his wet hair back, touched his soaked orange hair, looked at his hand, and touched it again in disbelief.
Seriously? It actually got wet. Damn it.
Tang Yu dug out two dry towels and started rubbing down both him and Ye Ye, hair and faces.
“Kayaking’s exhausting,” Ye Ye panted.
Tang Yu smoothed back his wet bangs, gently combing through his hair.
“Tomorrow we’ll try paddleboards and jet skis. Those won’t be so tiring.”
Bent over, Ye Ye shook his head as hard as he could, flinging water droplets everywhere.
Chasing him with the towel, Sang Zhao tried to whip him with it.
After a full day of playing, they went back for another evening activity. This time it was some kind of all-English Model United Nations.
Sang Zhao didn’t understand a thing, but he loved watching the chaos.
By the time it wrapped up, it was past nine.
Tonight, Ye Ye wasn’t nearly as easy to placate as yesterday. He was determined to go out and play.
“Let’s go, let’s go! Aren’t we really close to the ocean here? I haven’t seen the sea at night yet!”
The moment he said it, Sang Zhao’s heart twitched.
He hadn’t seen the sea at night either.
Going down to the beach at night, walking along the water and catching the sea breeze sounded really fun. He was deeply, purely curious about anything he hadn’t experienced yet.
“Alright,” he said, as if he was doing them a favor.
The three of them left the resort and headed for the beach, bringing along the wiggle car Tang Yu had hauled over in his trunk.
Once they reached a quieter stretch of road with fewer people, Ye Ye hopped onto the wiggle car and scooted around by wiggling his butt to power it.
He shot forward, then slid back, back and forth.
Just watching made Sang Zhao jealous. He lined up all dignified, then the second Ye Ye got off, he plopped down on it himself.
With his long legs stretched straight, it looked like he was rowing a boat on dry land.
Under him, the wiggle car no longer looked like a car. It looked like a little folding stool.
Hiding his face in his hand, Tang Yu laughed quietly.
The beach was classic tourist coastline, with a bike path and rows of vendors along the outer edge selling selfie sticks, souvenir keychains, fridge magnets.
From the inside of the road, you could walk straight down onto the sand.
The beach here was very clean and the sand was fine.
Squatting down to pick up a handful, Sang Zhao watched the pale yellow grains stream slowly through his fingers.
At this hour, there weren’t many people left.
They weren’t here to do anything special, just to walk, so they stayed on the promenade and strolled farther down.
“When I was in school, it was the same,” Tang Yu said. “On weekends, even late at night, there were always tourists from out of town by the beach.”
They walked farther and farther away from the crowds, toward a quieter stretch of sand.
Even there, they could still hear the music drifting over from the main area and the shouts of the vendors.
Sang Zhao was still fascinated by the night sea, watching it as they went.
The surface was smooth and calm, like a quiet jewel rippling under the sky.
The longer he looked, the more he started to feel… something was off.
His night vision was just as good in the dark, so even with barely any lights around, he immediately noticed something strange.
Wait… what’s that floating over there?
Someone drowning?
Eyes wide, he stared harder.
No, not that. Whatever it was, it was definitely floating but not just lying still. The upper body was very active, rolling around in the water.
It was drifting toward them.
“What the…”
He stared harder and, as it came a little closer, finally figured it out.
Sea otter.
A sea otter was floating there. A sea otter, not Tata. He wasn’t in human form, just brazenly using his fluffy otter body.
Rude.
Then again, if he were in human form, a three- or four-year-old child bobbing around alone in the ocean would probably cause even more of a stir.
So using his otter body was… better?
No.
No, it wasn’t. Since when did Jiangyuan produce sea otters? It totally didn’t. That thing was not local at all. How could it not attract suspicion?
And right now, the sea otter was headed straight toward them.
Who knew if it was friend or foe?
Warning! Warning!
Immediately, Sang Zhao threw an arm out in front of Tang Yu and clapped his palm over Tang Yu’s eyes.
He’d protect Tang Yu from seeing geography-defying weirdness and from physical danger, all in one move.
You wanna fight someone? Fight the cat. You do not touch Corn Bean. Corn Bean’s too good and too kind to be turned into popcorn by some random bad yaoguai!
Guarding Tang Yu, he snapped to full animal combat mode.
Mouth open, teeth bared, he let out a sharp hiss, warning off any suspicious presence that dared come near.
“Hiissss!”
Nice and loud. The sea otter in the distance didn’t react, but Tang Yu shivered.
With his line of sight blocked and the dark making the water even harder to see, the very human Tang Yu had no chance of noticing the sea otter.
He did hear Sang Zhao hiss right next to his ear though.
One moment they were just walking. The next, Sang Zhao suddenly hissed.
He had no idea what was going on.
After a hesitant beat, he asked, “What are you, exactly? A snake?”
He hadn’t guessed “cat” once.
For a second, Sang Zhao honestly didn’t know whether to be pleased or to question if his human form really was less cute than his cat form.
Of course, Ye Ye heard it too.
He jumped, spun around, and saw Sang Zhao standing guard in front of Tang Yu.
Naturally, he had a question.
What about me?
Scratching his head, he said, “I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t see the danger… but is no one gonna protect me?”
Ye Ye was hurt deeply.
He sucked in a huge breath and decided to copy Sang Zhao, threatening whatever unseen danger was approaching.
Dogs didn’t hiss.
Dogs barked.
“Woof! Woof woof woof woof!”
0 Comments