073: Dream a Little Cat Wedding!
Sang Zhao’s bite was actually pretty impressive.
His teeth weren’t as sharp as his claws, but they were still formidable. If he really used his claws, that’d be a one-hit kill.
He didn’t want to maul anyone to death. He just wanted to teach Corn Bean’s wild dad a lesson. How could Corn Bean be so good, and Corn Bean’s dad be so completely not to a little cat’s liking?
Clearly, the corncob that grew this Corn Bean wasn’t a very good cob.
As a little cat, Sang Zhao had his own rules about being a cat.
Which were: no matter how big and beefy a dad is, he is not allowed to bully Tang Yu in front of a little cat.
How could it be that Corn Bean served you tea and you wouldn’t drink it, and on top of that you sat there going “ptui ptui”? That was way over the line. If you wouldn’t drink tea, then fine, a bite so you can open your mouth and drink more northwest wind and cold air ought to satisfy you, right?
When he bit, he really put some force into it, making his dad yelp and spring to his feet.
His dad clutched his calf and hissed through his teeth like a snake, twisting his upper body.
At this, Sang Zhao did not feel even a shred of guilt.
The fact that Dad had jumped up meant what? It meant the cat hadn’t even used that much force. If he had used force, Dad should’ve gone down, not stood up.
The little cat knew exactly how hard he’d bitten. It was just enough to make it hurt sharply in one instant, but not enough to break skin.
In his mind, he’d only given the man a lesson so he would rein himself in a bit and act like a decent human.
But clearly his dad didn’t see it that way.
“What is this stray cat? It actually bites people! Why is there a cat in your office?” Dad shook out his leg, and all his anger went straight at Tang Yu.
His words were aimed at Tang Yu, but his leg clearly wanted payback on Sang Zhao.
There was no way this dad, after being bitten, was going to crouch down, say “it’s fine, it’s fine,” maybe check his own leg and even smile at the cat. That kind of thing was never going to happen with him.
He lifted a foot and tried to kick the cat.
But how could a little orange cat like Sang Zhao, who was so nimble, get kicked that easily? He turned his head and danced away, spinning Dad in circles. The man stood there on one leg for quite a while, ready to kick, and still didn’t manage to touch a single orange hair.
“That’s not a stray, he’s my cat,” Tang Yu corrected him. “And having a cat in the office is pretty normal, isn’t it?”
He knew full well that a cat biting someone wasn’t normal, so he didn’t bring it up at all. He pretended he’d never heard those words and grabbed onto the other lines instead.
“The cat’s always here. You’re the one who showed up without warning, so the cat might be confused. You just asked me what kind of stray it is, but he’s probably asking me what kind of wild man you are.”
Tang Yu’s tone was mild, with an odd hint of dry humor in it.
It was rare for Sang Zhao to hear him talk like that. He thought it was funny and hid under the desk, listening carefully to every word.
In his little cat heart, Tang Yu was always very gentle. He’d hardly ever seen Tang Yu interact with outsiders and didn’t know that Tang Yu’s patience was mostly reserved for him. With other people, that patience was in short supply.
The cat still thought that even if Dad couldn’t compare to Mom, he was still family. Tang Yu, however, gave his dad a glance with not even the slightest lift of his brows. He’d seen through him a long time ago.
Honestly, the cat was still in a decent mood watching the drama. His dad though, clearly wasn’t.
The older man paced in place and glared at Tang Yu. Something almost vicious flickered in his eyes, something that really shouldn’t have been there. “What’s with that tone? Is that how you talk to me?”
He’d been trying to put on a concerned-dad act at first. The second Tang Yu pushed back, the rebellious tone in his mind flipped instantly into self-righteous anger.
Tang Yu’s face didn’t change. Inside, he could already guess what his dad would say next.
Sure enough, out came the combo attack:
“What’s wrong with me talking to you like this? Don’t you argue with me, I’m your father, and whatever I say is for your own good. Out there, no one’s going to tell you these things, only family will tell you the truth!”
“Have my standards for you ever been that strict? If I hadn’t always held you to a high standard, would you be where you are today?”
“Have I ever forced you to do anything since you were a kid? Our family’s always been very democratic. If I hadn’t worked this hard raising you, would you have the achievements you have now? Every bit of your success is thanks to me.”
By this point, Sang Zhao’s little cat ears were practically aching.
He looked around, itching to pounce again and give this uncle one more chomp.
Could he stop already? Was he a broken-record machine? He’d said so much, and not a single line was anything a little cat wanted to hear.
Tang Yu was used to it. He lowered his head, took a sip of tea, and didn’t let his gaze fall on those words at all.
When he finished, seeing that Tang Yu wasn’t talking back, his dad seemed to feel like he’d finally vented the anger in his chest.
Then he started ordering Tang Yu around. “Get rid of that cat while you’re at it. An office is no place to keep animals.”
He leaned back on the sofa again, legs spread, cup of tea in hand.
He didn’t see this as Tang Yu’s office, and he didn’t see Tang Yu as a 26-year-old who could make his own decisions about his life.
He still treated Tang Yu like a child.
Tang Yu took a breath and let it out slowly. He looked down at the cat under the desk, who was staring at him with a worried “cat is very concerned about you” face. Tang Yu shook his head a little, meaning, I’m okay. I really am okay.
Yes, okay. This kind of situation, this kind of scene, “okay” was already a pretty high bar for it.
Watching his dad sit there, so self-righteous and sure of himself, Tang Yu thought about the kind of person he really was.
Was he some kind of villain? Not exactly. Was he an unforgivable monster? Not quite that either.
But for many years, the suffocating pressure that felt like drowning had been pressing on Tang Yu’s chest, keeping him from feeling any joy.
In their world, happiness wasn’t very important. Success was.
And any success Tang Yu achieved never counted as his personal success in their eyes. At most, it was considered the parents’ success, not that of the child or of an individual.
He’d grown up like that.
Which was why, when he and Sang Zhao had taken Xia Moye to summer camp, every second of that trip had felt strange and wonderful to him.
Back then, he hadn’t known Xia Moye was a Samoyed pup. He’d just thought the kid was a little dense.
A little dense, but lively, cheerful, and happy.
So there really are kids this happy, he’d thought.
Every time he’d seen that obliviously joyful face, every time he’d realized that little head was practically empty of “useful knowledge,” he had thought, So there really are children who grow up like this. Not everyone grows up under crushing pressure, choking their way toward adulthood.
When he later found out Xia Moye was a little dog, he finally understood a bit more.
Now, facing yet another round of his father’s demands, he thought of many things from many years.
So many that he couldn’t even list them one by one. Because even though he remembered them as clearly as nightmares, the only response he’d get if he brought them up would be, “You must be remembering wrong,” or “I don’t recall that.”
Enough, he thought. That’s enough.
He’d grown up. He had his own life now. Through this cat and this dog, he’d finally learned what love without strings actually looked like.
When you love a cat, you don’t love him because he can get first place in the class, or because he can meow four perfectly pitched notes.
You don’t love him expecting something in return. You don’t feed him a bag of cat food and then expect him to earn a truckload of dried fish later on.
You just want him healthy and safe. You want him to be able to lie in a patch of sunlight once he’s full.
In his finite little life, you don’t want him to exist just to suffer.
However much happiness there is in this world, you want him to experience that much of it. If he misses out on one flavor of freeze-dried treats, you feel sorry for him. If he jumps and runs and stays lively and strong, you feel proud of him.
Love without demanding payback. Love without control. That was a kind of love Tang Yu had only learned as an adult.
How could he possibly throw away his cat? How could he possibly throw away his little cat boyfriend now, just when his life had finally slid onto a happy track, when he was finally waking up from dreams with a smile?
He crossed his arms and looked at his dad.
He seemed to reach some decision, nodding as if to himself.
“Okay,” Tang Yu said.
Then he stood, bent down, and in the little cat’s utterly confused stare, grabbed him by the scruff and carried him toward a cluttered storage room in the back.
Dangling from Tang Yu’s hand, Sang Zhao didn’t struggle at all.
He absolutely didn’t believe Tang Yu would really do what he’d just said and throw the cat away.
What a joke. Yumidou loved him so much. How could Corn Bean possibly throw him out?
Sure enough, just as he’d expected, once they went into the storage room, Tang Yu set him down.
“Do you mind turning back into a person right now?” Tang Yu asked.
Sang Zhao was even more confused, but of course he didn’t mind.
If it weren’t so weird for a cat to talk human words, he’d have spoken up already, and he wouldn’t have had to bite anyone through their pant leg.
So he changed back into human form. He didn’t talk at first. Instead, he shoved his face into the crook of Tang Yu’s neck and wrapped him up in a huge hug.
It was tight, right up against that seam where their souls met, a giant-sized embrace.
While he held him, he quietly started whispering bad things about Dad into his boyfriend’s ear.
Badmouthing your boyfriend’s father to his face like this sounded strange, but the little cat had to say it.
“I don’t like him,” he murmured.
Cats didn’t really know how to talk about what was “bad” in a person. They didn’t know how to phrase “putting in eye drops,” either. So he just said whatever came to mind. It sounded a bit random, but it was truly how he felt.
“He looks like a blow-dryer,” Sang Zhao complained.
The words made Tang Yu laugh.
“He’s my dad,” Tang Yu said helplessly. “I grew up looking like him. If he’s a blow-dryer, what am I?”
“A microwave? A juicer? A vacuum cleaner?”
That got Sang Zhao laughing, his eyes lighting up.
And in the next second, those same bright eyes were what he turned on Tang Yu’s father.
Following Tang Yu’s instructions, he walked out and went straight to the point: “Hello, Uncle. I’m your son’s boyfriend.”
Just seeing Tang Yu walk off with a cat and come back with a human had left his dad completely baffled.
Now hearing this, his mind practically short-circuited.
“Ah?” he said, a question ripped from the depths of his soul. “Who are you? What did you say… Where even am I?”
Even his tone had gone floaty.
Smiling, Sang Zhao added on purpose, “We’re meeting for the first time, so I should’ve brought you cigarettes, wine, fruit baskets, and supplements. But you look like you’ve had more than enough already, so I guess I don’t need to bring anything.”
His dad stopped clutching his calf and put a hand to his chest instead. “W-what’s going on here?”
“Still thinking about the cat, Dad?” Tang Yu asked politely.
His dad looked ready to explode again, but before he could, Tang Yu cut him off.
“You’re absolutely allowed not to accept this. Dad, you and Mom both are,” he said. “I’ve been living by the book my whole life, studying, taking exams, starting my company. I’ve never made you worry.”
He shrugged. “So now it’s time for you to worry.”
His dad stared at him in disbelief. “Are you joking…”
“I’m not joking, and this isn’t a joke,” Tang Yu said calmly. “I’ve been an adult for eight years now. I understand myself better with each year that passes, and I know clearly what I want.”
“I don’t want to keep living like my soul is missing. I don’t want to tick off life events by age, doing things at ‘the right time.’ I don’t want every tiny bit of disagreement with you to be met with judgmental looks and silent punishment.”
There was no name for the expression on his dad’s face.
It was a kind of shock. Like he’d just realized the cucumbers he thought he’d planted had actually grown into endless fields of lavender.
Lavender was beautiful and fragrant, and many people loved it passionately.
But he only wanted cucumbers. When he planted them, all he’d wanted from them was something he could eat.
So this father who only wanted to eat cucumbers couldn’t feel happy at all, standing in front of a mountain full of fragrant, blooming lavender.
By the time he left, he almost looked like he was running away. It was as if the blow had been so strong, he couldn’t even summon his temper.
After he was gone, Sang Zhao was still worried.
“Is it really okay? Your dad looked super shocked. His jaw was about to fall off,” he said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Tang Yu replied. “I’m happy. If he’s not, that’s his business. It’s on him to work on himself to accept all of this, not to try and change me.”
As he spoke, he looked utterly relaxed. Something like a sudden, clear understanding floated around him.
The mountain that had pressed down on his chest for so many years had vanished. Breathing in again now, he realized that humans didn’t have to snatch a little oxygen from the very edge of suffocation at all times.
Breathing freely felt that good.
He looked at Sang Zhao and took his hand.
Fingering the pads of his fingers, he pressed and rubbed gently at his wrist.
“Thank you,” he said suddenly.
Sang Zhao didn’t understand why Yumidou was thanking him out of nowhere, but he could see that Tang Yu’s expression was much lighter than before.
He liked this Tang Yu. The earlier version, with the severe face and worried brows, hadn’t been cute at all.
Right now though, as he looked at him with soft, clear eyes, he was absolutely the best Corn Bean there’d ever been.
Tang Yu tugged his wrist and placed a tender kiss on the edge of his jaw.
“You healed me. You taught me how to really live,” he said.
Sang Zhao paused. He wanted to happily accept the credit, but when he thought it through carefully, he honestly couldn’t figure out what exactly he’d taught Tang Yu.
It had always been Tang Yu teaching him.
First, Tang Yu had taught him how to use the shredder, then idioms, work, spreadsheets.
Obviously Tang Yu had been the one teaching all along. Had he really taught Tang Yu anything?
Confusion flickered in his eyes. Seeing it, Tang Yu felt even more tender toward him.
The cat didn’t understand human worries. His simple presence had still created a huge change.
Tang Yu felt incredibly lucky to have a little cat boyfriend.
That open, earnest love had taught him how to love and how to live.
—
After that, Sang Zhao had no idea whether Tang Yu’s dad ever came by again.
He certainly never saw him at the company. He was actually a little disappointed. After he’d gone home, he’d listened to several CEO web novels and prepared a whole arsenal of lines specifically for this dad.
Next time they met, he’d planned to use them from every angle.
But Dad never came again. With him gone, Tang Yu’s mood stayed consistently good.
He didn’t really have anything to worry about now. His relationship was stable, his career was solid, and when he had time off, he even got to enjoy parenting a kid with his lover, even though they’d never had a kitten of their own.
If he got off work early, they could pick the Samoyed up from school and buy him a two-yuan-fifty starch sausage at the gate.
Ye Ye got the two-fifty sausage. Sang Zhao got two sausages for five yuan. After they ate, Tang Yu pulled tissues out of his pocket, passed one to Ye Ye, then patiently wiped Sang Zhao’s mouth.
Then they’d drive off to dinner and take their time enjoying life.
Recently, Ye Ye had even booked a commercial. He wanted Sang Zhao and Tang Yu to go with him to the shoot.
As soon as Tang Yu heard little Xia Moye had landed a commercial, he thought it made perfect sense. The kid had rosy lips, bright teeth, and a delicate, adorable face with a bit of chubby cheek. He was exactly the kind of child everyone would agree was cute.
Sang Zhao was excited too.
Now that he’d been earning decent money himself and had seen more of the world, he knew exactly what it meant for a child to land a commercial.
So many stars had started out filming commercials when they were little and then slowly entered the entertainment industry.
The industry had its perks. Good money, lots of people’s affection and in Sang Zhao’s mind, that sounded like paradise for a human-loving Samoyed.
He imagined a scene between Ye Ye and his fans:
Fans: “Aaaaah, it’s Xiao Ye!”
Ye Ye: “Aaaaah, humans!”
Both sides thrilled, both sides delighted. What else could you call that but a match made in heaven?
It sounded great. Ye Ye hadn’t been doing very well in school to begin with. If he ended up in entertainment later on, with books not being his strong suit, he could always make up for it with pure sincerity.
That sounded like a fine path.
“So now you’re a child model, huh?” Sang Zhao asked excitedly. “What are you playing?”
Proudly lifting his head, Xia Moye announced: “A Samoyed who carries the rings to the newlyweds at their wedding!”
Sang Zhao lowered his head and got very busy fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
Ye Ye was still happily chattering away. “Snow Leopard helped me get it. He’s out of the bureau now. He says he’s done with those gray-area reselling jobs and is working as a director’s assistant.”
“Snow Leopard said the commercial’s been looking for a Samoyed like me. But the dog actors they found weren’t cooperating enough.”
Ye Ye explained, “The director really wants a Samoyed. But the newlywed couple in the ad are strangers to the dog, and there are balloons everywhere, so the Samoyed keeps losing focus…”
Instead of delivering the rings, the Samoyed would just run delighted laps around the place, trying to play with every single human.
Hi, hi, this sheep-butt-shaped dog is here! Don’t be shy, please pet!
What? You’re working? Wow, what a rigid human. Pet me!
“The ones who perform the best are usually Border Collies and Golden Retrievers. I think it’s our chance to win some respect back for Samoyeds,” Ye Ye said earnestly.
After that kind of speech, how could Sang Zhao and Tang Yu not take him?
Of course they had to. Tang Yu drove them from Jiangyuan City to Shanghai to film the commercial.
The set was beautiful. The crew had created a very realistic wedding chapel. When the director called action, pretty feathers and streamers drifted down over the bride and groom’s heads. They landed on their hair and shoulders, and the way they looked at each other was full of happiness.
Even though Sang Zhao knew they were acting, he still thought the scene looked incredibly joyful.
He stood at the edge of the crowd, with Tang Yu by his side.
After watching for a bit, he saw Ye Ye’s big entrance.
The crew all said this was the most cooperative Samoyed they’d ever seen. When he carried the rings down the aisle, his path was perfectly straight, his posture light and steady.
It almost looked like the dog was walking a runway.
While everyone else was busy with the shoot, Sang Zhao nudged Tang Yu with his elbow.
“Have you ever imagined us getting married?” he asked quietly.
“All the time,” Tang Yu said honestly. “Sometimes I even dream about it.”
“Why only ‘sometimes’?” Sang Zhao demanded. “Why not always dream about it?”
“Because in my dreams I’m usually dreaming about other things…” Tang Yu’s words trailed off, skipping ahead past exactly what those “other things” were.
“In short, getting married is the kind of good thing I didn’t even dare dream about,” he said.
Sang Zhao gazed at him, then reached up and lightly flicked the tiny ponytail at the back of his neck.
Tang Yu didn’t move. He let him play with it.
He accepted all of Sang Zhao’s oddities and cuteness. Letting him use his hair as a cat toy was nothing at all.
“Then can I dream about it?” he asked softly.
Dreaming about a wedding with his little cat, just like this. Feathers and streamers drifting down over their heads, blessings all around them, exchanging rings, kissing each other.
Using his heart’s blood to carve out a line: your name. He’d never forget it, not until they grew old and gray, not even then, because they’d promise to find each other in the next life too.
Was a human allowed to have that dream?
Leaning in close to his ear, Sang Zhao seemed like he was going to say something important, so Tang Yu listened carefully and then:
“Meow meow meow,” Sang Zhao said.
He meowed a few times, then met Tang Yu’s gaze with his eyes arched into crescents, laughter spilling out of them.
Tang Yu didn’t understand cat language, but he didn’t need to ask. He knew what Sang Zhao had said.
As a human, in that moment, he could hear it.
“I love you too,” Tang Yu whispered back in his ear.
In human words and in little cat words, he said “I love you.”
Say it a thousand times, then another ten thousand, then a hundred million more.
【Main story complete】
Author’s Note:
Uraaa, we’re done with the main story!
If there are any extras you’d like to see, please tell me little bosses, and I’ll try writing them if I can.
There are also some upcoming stories in my author column. Moms, feel free to take a look~
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