Jiang Xiaoyu was tense to the extreme. The fine beads of sweat seeping from his paw pads made them slick and slippery when he stepped on the ground. This loss of traction only heightened his alertness to unprecedented levels.
He saw Ji Wangan standing in place, neurotically biting his own nail like a madman. Nearby, Teddy noticed its owner’s off mood and hurried over to lick his toes, trying to offer comfort.
That man felt a surge of contempt and disdain upon seeing Ji Wangan’s reaction. A useless good-for-nothing who had nothing going for him except his illustrious family background—how could he compare to his brother in any other way? He tried his best to hide his true emotions, keeping a concerned and gentle expression on his face. “Wangan, don’t be scared. I just want to dispose of the stuff completely so you can relax.”
Jiang Xiaoyu knew there was something fishy about this. The man was shoving all the blame onto Ji Wangan without mentioning himself at all. If he really had nothing to do with it, why was he so anxious to destroy the evidence? Was it really just to put Ji Wangan at ease?
But Ji Wangan seemed to buy it. His face drained of color, he nodded woodenly. “Okay, I’ll get it for you.”
Jiang Xiaoyu watched him turn toward the bedside table, his nerves stretched to the limit. The phone was stuffed under the bed—he had to seize the moment to snatch it out quickly.
Ji Wangan reached the cabinet, and his heart sank. The key was still in the lock, not pulled out, but he clearly remembered putting it in a bowl when he woke from a midnight nightmare, with the drawer securely locked. He rushed forward and yanked open the drawer, his hands frantically rummaging through, sweeping items onto the floor one by one, but the phone was nowhere to be found.
Large beads of sweat formed on his forehead, his breathing turning rapid and erratic, his eyes filled with panic. “C-can’t… can’t find it.”
That man’s face instantly turned ashen upon hearing this, a flash of ferocity crossing his features. “How could it be gone!?” He took a step forward, about to search himself, when a voice suddenly burst into his ears, piercing his raging mind and halting his actions.
“What thing is missing?”
“Huh? You’re Shen Qi’s son?”
The voice matched the man—elegant and pleasing, unforgettable.
The viciousness on Shen Qie’s face switched in an instant. He turned around with a smile. “Yes, I’m Shen Qie. Mr. Ye, why are you here?”
“Came to find my cat,” Ye Lian said warmly. He glanced around the room. “Strange, where’s my little guy?”
The moment Ye Lian spoke, Jiang Xiaoyu took advantage of the distraction, pulled out the phone, grabbed it in his mouth, and bolted like a streak of smoke.
He carefully dodged the people and ran all the way, but at the corner, he couldn’t avoid bumping into someone in time. The sudden impact sent Jiang Xiaoyu tumbling to the ground, his head spinning. He saw the phone fall and instinctively scrambled up to grab it, but he was still a step too late.
“Isn’t this Wangan’s phone?” Ye Lan looked at the photo of Ji Wangan stuck on the phone case. She said, “So you’re a little thief cat, huh?”
Jiang Xiaoyu’s heart leaped to his throat, pounding wildly and choking his airway, nearly suffocating him.
Just as his head swelled with the urge to scratch her and snatch the phone back, the woman chuckled warmly. “Don’t be afraid.”
That demeanor was just like Ye Lian’s—the mother and son really looked so alike it made him dizzy. He watched as she pulled a handkerchief from her bosom, carefully wrapped the phone into a bundle, and tied it securely.
“Come here.” She beckoned to Jiang Xiaoyu.
Jiang Xiaoyu swallowed hard, his head rigidly tense as he edged closer, racking his brains for a plan.
Ye Lan had lived several times longer than this little guy, and she was incredibly sharp. She crouched down, looped the bundle around Jiang Xiaoyu’s neck, and tied it carefully. “Go on, over the wall.” She gave his butt a push.
Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t have time to think and just took off running. In the last second before climbing over the wall, he inexplicably turned back for a glance at the woman behind him. She stood in the blazing bright light of noon, but her face was blurred and indistinct.
Carrying the bundle, he dashed down the alley straight into the Pine City Police gates. Before the guard could react, he whooshed past like the wind, charging directly toward the Case Handling Office.
Those ghostly folks in the Case Handling Office usually napped at noon, so the door was locked tight. Jiang Xiaoyu clawed at the door, meowing loudly: “Zhang Pangpang! Zhang Pangpang, open up!”
The guy inside was sleeping like a dead pig. Jiang Xiaoyu scratched and kicked at the door: “Dead orange cat, open up! I know you’re in there! I can smell the barbecue!”
Inside, it seemed stunned by the noise. After a while, there was a “click”—the sound of a cat jumping up to press the door handle. A fat orange cat with greasy lips poked its head out. “Hey, isn’t this Little Yu? What brings you here?”
Separated by the door, Jiang Xiaoyu had yelled energetically, but face-to-face, he turned into a gourd with a sawed-off mouth, coolly asking as if they weren’t close: “Where’s the chief?”
“He’s sleeping inside.” After letting Jiang Xiaoyu in, Zhang Pangpang shut the door and jumped back onto the table to gnaw on some pork belly. He held out a skewer. “Want one?”
Exhausted and parched from the hot run, Jiang Xiaoyu collapsed bonelessly now that he could relax. He shook his head to refuse, then burrowed into the inner office.
In the room, a leopard had one leg propped up on the sofa back, belly exposed, snoring loudly. Jiang Xiaoyu pounced over and grabbed his face: “Master, I got the evidence!”
Jin Ge cracked one eye open a slit. His big paw scooped Jiang Xiaoyu off his face. “Rest first, talk later.”
Licked back and forth until he was drowsy, Jiang Xiaoyu flopped his paws down, pillowed his head on the evidence phone, and fell asleep.
—
Ji Mansion.
Lei Guangyu sat high in the seat of honor, her expression unpleasant. “Child, why are you always so reckless? The phone’s lost, so it’s lost—why make such a big fuss?”
Ji Wangan clutched her hand like seeking comfort, panic in his eyes. “Grandma, that phone—”
“Enough!” Lei Guangyu cut him off sharply, then turned to Shen Qie with a smile. “Little Shen, you head back first. It’s the holidays—everyone’s busy. You can hang out with Wangan another day.”
These two were nearly thirty, yet in her mouth, it was still “hang out,” as if what they did was just kids playing house.
Shen Qie was restless inside, forcing down his irritation with a smile. “Alright, then I won’t disturb Grandma Ji.”
As he passed Ye Lian, who was holding a teacup nearby, he asked ingratiatingly: “Did Mr. Ye find his cat? Want me to help look?”
Ye Lian set the teacup on the table as a servant refilled it. He curved his eyes. “No need. The little guy’s playful—he’ll come back soon.”
This was the big merchant his dad Shen Qi had been trying to recruit for months without success. Shen Qie wanted to chat more, but considering what just happened, he added: “Good to hear. I got some new toys cats love. If it’s not a bother, I’ll send them to Ink Orchid Mansion in a few days. Your cat looks spirited and awfully cute.” He made no mention of how he’d thought that black cat was Ji Wangan’s new useless pet when he first saw it.
Ye Lian nodded with a smile. “That would be appreciated.”
They exchanged a few pleasantries. Under Lei Guangyu’s growing impatience, Shen Qie sneered inwardly, bid Ye Lian a polite farewell, and withdrew.
“Ye Lian’s getting more capable by the day—even officials have to give him face,” Lei Guangyu said.
Ye Lan showed no reaction to her words, turning to hug Ji Wangan with heartache. “Isn’t it just a phone? Mom’ll get you a new card—can’t buy one no matter how many you want?”
Ji Wangan trembled anxiously in her arms, whispering: “Mom, that phone has the video from that night.”
Ye Lan stroked his head, soothing: “It’s okay, it’s okay. Mom’s here.”
Seeing their mother-son affection, Lei Guangyu softened. To Ye Lian, she said: “It’s getting late. If nothing else, you should head back too. Thanks, Grandma appreciates you keeping it in mind.”
Ye Lian was impeccably respectful. “My little cat’s run off somewhere—allow me to find him first.”
Comforted somewhat by his mother, Ji Wangan released Ye Lan’s embrace, rubbed his nose, and said: “Bro’s cat wasn’t playing with Cotton earlier? I just saw it.” When did it disappear? He couldn’t recall.
Lei Guangyu didn’t want Ye Lian sticking around. His presence was like a thorn, constantly reminding her of the Ji Family’s decline. Thirty-plus years, and she couldn’t even keep her own grandson—could only watch him taken by the Ye Family. What a humiliation.
Moreover, Ye Lian had been raised by the Ye Family to feel no closeness to the Ji Family, which irked her. She glanced at Ji Wangan, who looked listless, feeling a pang of pity. Though the younger grandson wasn’t much of an achiever, he stayed by her side, obedient and likable.
“Then have the servants help look.”
Just as Lei Guangyu spoke, a servant hurried over sideways. “Old Madam, the young master is here.” Followed by a laugh: “Grandma, what’re you looking for?”
Ji Junan stepped through the door. “Yo! Ye Lian’s here too? Everyone’s gathered? My bad, my bad—came late and missed the meal.”
“Big Bro.” Ye Lian greeted lightly with a smile.
Lei Guangyu swallowed her displeasure and smiled. “Junan’s here. Where’s your father?”
“Dad’s abroad for summer vacation—couldn’t come himself. He asked me to pass on holiday wishes to you, Old Madam.”
“Thoughtful.” Ungrateful brat—who wants you stepping foot in Ji Mansion? Lei Guangyu gnashed her teeth inwardly.
She was Old Master Ji’s second wife—to put it bluntly, a mistress who had risen to power. Ji Junan was the offspring sired by the son of the original wife, the legitimate eldest grandson of the main branch. Thanks to this, in the early years, she had suffered no small amount of bullying from the clan. They claimed the Ji Family’s assets should be inherited by the main branch and that Ye Lian, bearing the surname Ye, had no qualification whatsoever. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before Ji Wangan was born, shutting the mouths of those people.
Chen Yiqu stood behind Ye Lian, his expression solemn. In this Ji Family, Ji Junan was the Eldest Master and Ji Wangan the Second Master—where did that leave a place for their master? No wonder their master hated coming here.
Ye Lian didn’t entertain such thoughts. It was a land of ants; he cared little for it. He simply folded his fan and lightly tapped his palm with it, half-squinting his eyes as he watched them bicker for amusement.
He fondled the fan handle a few times. It was too hard. He actually missed that little guy’s ears a bit.
Jiang Xiaoyu sneezed and nudged the cheetah beside him. “How about it? Can you unlock it?”
