Chapter 32
Jing Ciying experienced the true meaning of “a gift binds the receiver.”
He couldn’t refuse, holding the adorable Ragdoll kitten. He agreed to the ride and followed Pei Songji downstairs.
Pei Songji rarely drove himself, so seeing him in the driver’s seat felt strange.
“Where’s your driver today?” he asked.
Pei Songji couldn’t tell him he didn’t want a third wheel, so he simply said, “He’s on leave.”
“All three of them?” Jing Ciying asked, skeptical.
“Yes,” Pei Songji replied without hesitation.
Jing Ciying didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t investigate either, so he let it go.
He started thinking about a name for the kitten.
His first instinct was to name it Junjun.
He and his sister had loved cats and had once dreamt of getting one when they finally settled down.
But fate had other plans.
Since his sister’s accident, his life had revolved around work and caring for her. He hadn’t had time for such thoughts.
After her death, he could barely take care of himself, let alone a pet.
But seeing this kitten, a familiar longing resurfaced.
The tiny creature was so soft, so dependent, and he felt a long-forgotten sense of being needed.
Holding the kitten felt like holding a piece of himself, a piece he had lost.
What should he name it?
“What are you thinking about?” Pei Songji’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Nothing,” he said, initially thinking it was too trivial to share.
But then he remembered it was Pei Songji’s gift. “I’m trying to think of a name for the kitten.”
“Naming a pet is a serious matter,” Pei Songji agreed.
Jing Ciying nodded.
“Have you thought of anything?”
“Not yet.” He chuckled. “I was thinking of naming it Junjun, but I think my sister would haunt me.”
Pei Songji, surprised by his casual mention of his sister, glanced at him.
Jing Ciying seemed oblivious to the significance of his words. “I’m not good at naming things. I’ve thought of a few, but they don’t seem right.”
“What names?”
“Well…” He hesitated, slightly embarrassed. “Since it’s a female, I wanted something cute.”
“Like?”
“Flower, Candy, Fruit.”
Pei Songji couldn’t help but chuckle. “Those are… interesting.”
Jing Ciying knew he was being sarcastic. “What’s so funny? Why don’t you name it, then?”
Pei Songji shook his head. “It’s your cat. You should name it.”
“You’re the original owner; you have naming rights too. Give me some suggestions.”
“No, you name it.”
“But I can’t think of anything. Seriously, I’m not being sarcastic.”
Pei Songji, seeing his sincerity, finally agreed, thinking for a moment.
“I have one,” he said.
“What?” Jing Ciying asked, curious.
“Happy.”
“Happy?” He almost laughed. It wasn’t much better than his own suggestions.
“Why Happy?”
“Because I hope the kitten will be happy.”
Jing Ciying, thinking Pei Songji was worried about the kitten’s well-being, reassured him. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it.”
“And I hope you’ll be happy too,” Pei Songji added softly.
The seemingly innocuous statement created a sudden, awkward silence.
Neither of them spoke, the only sound the gentle hum of the car engine.
They arrived at Lindai University.
The university was celebrating its 120th anniversary with a grand event.
Stepping onto the campus, Jing Ciying felt a surge of nostalgia, the youthful energy making him feel younger.
But he quickly realized that time had changed more than just his age; it had changed his perspective.
Even here, he was no longer the same person.
Pei Songji had to give a speech, so Jing Ciying wandered around the campus, revisiting his favorite spots: the dormitories, the library, the cafeteria, and finally, the academic building.
Having been busy with his studies and part-time jobs, he hadn’t spent much time with his roommates, so his strongest connection was to the building where he had spent countless hours attending classes.
He had been so happy here. He walked up the stairs, lost in thought, and found himself in front of the classroom where he had first met Pei Songji.
The classroom was empty, bathed in sunlight.
The familiar surroundings triggered a vivid memory of their first encounter.
He was surprised by the clarity of the memory, after all these years.
Did Pei Songji remember that day too?
Surely not.
They hadn’t known each other back then. He hadn’t been anyone special, just another student.
Pei Songji wouldn’t have remembered him.
And during their subsequent encounters, Pei Songji had acted like a stranger.
He chuckled to himself, turning to leave.
He saw Pei Songji standing in the doorway, watching him.
The summer sunlight streamed through the windows, creating a dazzling, almost dreamlike, atmosphere.
For a moment, he was transported back in time.
But he quickly returned to the present. They were no longer students.
“Are you finished?” he asked, walking towards Pei Songji, who had been invited to give a speech to the students.
Pei Songji seemed equally lost in thought, taking a moment to respond. “Yes. I called you, but you didn’t answer.”
Jing Ciying checked his phone, seeing several missed calls.
“My phone was on silent,” he explained.
“I figured,” Pei Songji said with a smile.
“Let’s go.” Being alone had been fine, but now, with Pei Songji here, he felt self-conscious, wanting to leave.
But Pei Songji stopped him. “Why did you come here?”
“Just looking around.”
“Looking around in this particular classroom?”
Jing Ciying sensed something in his tone, but he maintained his composure. “Is there something special about this classroom?”
Pei Songji looked at him intently. “Don’t you remember? This is where we first met.”
Jing Ciying was stunned. He hadn’t expected Pei Songji to remember, let alone mention it.
Pei Songji, seeing his silence, recounted the memory. “You were auditing a finance class. You sat next to me and borrowed my textbook.”
“Was I?” Jing Ciying pretended to think. “I audited so many classes, I don’t remember.”
“It’s okay,” Pei Songji said softly. “I remember.”
Jing Ciying looked at him, puzzled. He knew the question would reveal his own feelings, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Why would you remember me? We meet so many people every day. It’s impossible to remember everyone, especially someone as… ordinary as me.”
Pei Songji hesitated, then admitted the truth. “Back then, so many people were interested in me, and I assumed you were one of them, trying to get close to me.”
Jing Ciying was about to retort, “Don’t be so narcissistic,” when Pei Songji continued, “But I later realized you weren’t.”
“So many people liked me, but you were the only one I remembered.”
“So, the real reason must be…”
“What?” Jing Ciying asked, curious.
“I think I started liking you back then.”
Jing Ciying thought Pei Songji had lost his mind.
Why would he say such things, especially here, in the middle of the academic building?
He looked around, relieved to see the hallway was empty.
“Don’t joke with me,” he said, trying to dismiss the confession. “I have things to do this afternoon. I should go.”
Pei Songji, knowing his aversion to this topic, didn’t press further. “I’ll give you a ride.”
“No, thank you. I’ll take a taxi,” Jing Ciying said quickly.
“I have Happy’s food, litter, and bed in my car. I can drop them off at your place,” Pei Songji said.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Jing Ciying asked, surprised.
“I forgot.”
He didn’t believe him, but he didn’t want to be manipulated so easily. “Just send me the brand names. I’ll buy them myself.”
“That’s fine,” Pei Songji agreed readily. “But…”
“But what?”
“The food and litter are replaceable, but the bed… it’s the one he’s been using since he was a kitten. He only sleeps in that bed. I’m afraid he won’t be able to adjust to a new one, so…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Jing Ciying understood.
He sighed inwardly, realizing he had fallen into Pei Songji’s trap.
Perhaps he was lying, but if he wasn’t, and Happy couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t very well ask Pei Songji to bring the bed over later.
He gave in. “Fine. Thank you, Mr. Pei.”
“You’re welcome.” Pei Songji started walking towards the exit. “Let’s go.”
Jing Ciying: “…”
He was so annoyed.
