The little leather whip didn’t hit hard, but it still made Jiang Xiaoyu’s flesh twitch. His face flushed red as he stared at the blackboard, forcing himself not to look at Ye Lian and instead focus on his studies.
Ye Lian curled his lips, his eyes full of mischief as he used the teaching pointer to poke at Jiang Xiaoyu’s obediently placed paws in front of him. “Answer this one—what do you select here?”
Jiang Xiaoyu shifted his feet to the side a couple times, kicking away the mischievous little whip, and said, “Select B, ‘when’.”
“And the reason?”
“‘Hardly… when’, it’s a fixed pairing.”
“Very good answer.” Ye Lian gave him a slow, light clap.
It was the most normal action imaginable, yet Jiang Xiaoyu felt it was cat-teasingly provocative. He quickly schooled his face into a glare at the blackboard. “Come on, next question!”
Ye Lian, who handled a million things every day, was rarely this leisurely, using it to tutor Jiang Xiaoyu. The little black cat felt like he was working hard, but Chen Yiqu thought this was purely playing around with a child.
He brought in some snacks and tea, poured tea for Ye Lian, then turned to look at Jiang Xiaoyu.
Jiang Xiaoyu was sprawled on the table. He was already black-furred, and with his serious expression, he occasionally swiped at the tablet with his paw pads, selecting and answering questions.
Chen Yiqu’s old face was full of suspicion. “Is this doing homework?” Forgive the older generation—in their eyes, tablets and phones were just for entertainment.
Ye Lian took a sip of tea and defended him. “Of course. The little one is working very hard; he’s already finished a full set of practice papers.”
Hearing this, Jiang Xiaoyu’s tail flicked with inexplicable pride. He got up, walked over to Ye Lian, squatted down, and meowed, “The cat is thirsty; I want water.”
Ye Lian chuckled lowly, his starry eyes softening with amusement. He didn’t mind sharing a tea bowl with a cat, placing the cup in front of Jiang Xiaoyu before taking the teapot from Chen Yiqu and filling it up for him. “Please, drink slowly.”
Jiang Xiaoyu curled his tongue to test it—slightly bitter taste, perfect temperature. He held the rim with both paws and slurped it up.
Cats don’t lap water with their tongues; they curl it to scoop. Inevitably, some spilled, splashing quite a bit onto Ye Lian’s book pages. Chen Yiqu’s face stiffened, wanting to say the cat was messy, but seeing Ye Lian’s doting expression, he held back. In his mind, he sneered: Fine, if the main person doesn’t mind, why’s he fussing?
With that thought, he didn’t avoid Jiang Xiaoyu and spoke openly about family matters in front of the cat. “That old madam from the Ji Family is probably not long for this world. Do you think we should go pay a visit? It’d look good on the surface.”
Ye Lian picked up a handkerchief from nearby and carefully wiped the tea from Jiang Xiaoyu’s cheek. “Is this time for real, or another false alarm?”
The Ji Family’s old madam, Lei Guangyu, was truly Ye Lian’s biological grandmother. Unfortunately, she was never kindly disposed toward him. Old people love to make trouble, and after Ji Wangan went to prison, she was so angry she suffered a stroke. Bedridden and immobile, she became even more difficult, occasionally “dying” once in a while to test Ye Lan’s attitude.
“This time it’s real, Madam said so.” Lately, Ye Lian and Ye Lan’s relationship seemed a bit better, though still distant and not like typical mother and son. Chen Yiqu gauged Ye Lian’s expression, glancing at the cat nearby who’d stopped doing homework and perked up his ears to eavesdrop on the gossip. Inspiration struck. “Do you want to bring the little cat to the Ji Family Old Mansion? It’s autumn; the ginkgos there are about to turn yellow.”
“Mm, that’s true.”
The area around the Ji Family Old Mansion had become a cultural heritage site. Rows of ancient ginkgos were very beautiful, but not open to the public—ordinary people could only admire from afar. He lowered his gaze to ask Jiang Xiaoyu, “Want to go take a look? My mother likes you quite a bit too.”
Jiang Xiaoyu hadn’t expected the decision to fall to him. He froze for a moment, then meowed, “I have overtime this week; no time to go.”
Ye Lian replied, “Then next time. The ginkgos aren’t at their peak viewing period yet anyway.” He said it casually, as if going to the old mansion was really just to take the cat to see the ginkgos, completely disregarding whether the old madam could hold out that long.
Chen Yiqu’s goal was just to ease things between mother and son; he didn’t care much about Lei Guangyu. Hearing this, he didn’t press and smiled. “Then I’ll let Madam know.”
Once the old steward left with the teapot, Jiang Xiaoyu turned around, hesitated a few times, then rubbed up to Ye Lian’s side. He placed his paw on Ye Lian’s hand and asked, “What’s the deal between you and your mom?”
Ye Lian flipped his hand and trapped the cat’s paw in his palm. “What’s this? Has Officer Jiang finally remembered to care about Uncle’s matters?”
His voice was lazy and drawn out, the tone weirdly teasing—it made the cat want to bite. Jiang Xiaoyu bared his little fangs and chomped down hard. “You know everything about me, but I know nothing about you. That’s not fair! You’re my Wife Cat; I have the right to know your stuff!”
Ye Lian was always disarmed by his bluntness on this front and laughed despite himself. “Alright, alright. So what does our Little Yu Officer want to know?”
“Um…” Jiang Xiaoyu struggled with how to address Ye Lan. “Why do you and Ye Mommy seem so distant? Was there some huge conflict?”
Jiang Xiaoyu hadn’t known his own dad, Ye Qingxu, for long, but they were close every second they were together—maybe that was the father-son bond, blood ties people talked about.
So what was up with Ye Lian and Ye Lan? They should be the closest mother and son, but it felt like there was a barrier between them.
Ye Lian said slowly, “Conflict? No, there wasn’t any. If I had to pinpoint a reason… maybe there isn’t one. When I was born, I was already in tiger form, and my uncle immediately sent people to take me back to Locust City. My mother left me at the Ye Residence and never came to see me for years. When I was young, my concept of ‘mother’ actually came from my aunt.”
The man’s expression was utterly calm, as if he weren’t talking about himself. Wanting to comfort him, Jiang Xiaoyu jumped into his arms.
“When I was seven, my father died in an accident. Over half a year later, Ji Wangan was born. I came back to Pine City to see her; she was holding Ji Wangan, her features like a painting, smiling tenderly—a look I’d never seen. She never once said to come back to the Ji Family. Later, with the unstable political situation at home, I followed my uncle abroad, growing up running between countries until this year, when I returned to Pine City for investment and met you.”
“Our relationship is less mother-son and more like unfamiliar strangers. She is, and so was my early-deceased father.”
These were Ye Lian’s words, but Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t believe Ye Lan had abandoned him. He’d talked with Ye Lan and seen her longing to get close to Ye Lian. She’d ask what he ate, worry if he’d slept well; knowing he was fine filled her with elder’s relief.
That wasn’t the face of someone who didn’t love her son.
“I think she loves you.”
Ye Lian didn’t speak, just half-closed his eyes, looking somewhat wistful.
Jiang Xiaoyu placed his cat paw into Ye Lian’s palm, letting the sad man knead it. “You, you don’t be sad. She actually cares a lot about you; she asked me tons about you and said you’re outstanding and she’s proud.”
Whether Ye Lan had said exactly that, Jiang Xiaoyu couldn’t remember, but right now he just wanted to properly coax this downcast, heartbreaking Wife Cat. He stuffed his tail into Ye Lian’s hand too. “She definitely loves you! There must be some reason she gave you to your uncle to raise.”
Ye Lian’s tone turned weak. “Uncle is a bit sad.” His inky brow tips furrowed, amber eyes shimmering as if with tears. From below, Jiang Xiaoyu saw him looking utterly pitiable, melting the cat’s heart.
“Don’t be sad! Cat lets you pinch!” He wasn’t good at comforting people and just blindly nuzzled into the embrace, oblivious to biting the hook dangled by this sly old fox.
“Uncle doesn’t want to pinch cat anymore.”
Ye Lian’s fan-like lashes drooped, looking fragile enough to shatter. Jiang Xiaoyu’s mind heated up. “Then what do you want to do?”
“Uncle wants to kiss.”
Jiang Xiaoyu froze at the words, remembering what the man had said last time. He caught on—this old thing was teasing him. He looked up with a fierce glare and sure enough, saw the amusement in those eyes.
Ye Lian smirked, pinching Jiang Xiaoyu’s tail once by once with interest. He’d expected the little guy to fluff up, but the next second, a living person appeared in his arms.
Black hair, pale skin, vivid red cord around the neck, lotus-shaped jade token as verdant as lotus leaves. The youth’s clear gaze was tinged with shyness as he closed his eyes and leaned in messily for a kiss.
At first, it was clearly Jiang Xiaoyu taking the initiative, but gradually, he could only passively receive, the rhythm firmly under Ye Lian’s control.
The other’s nimble tongue tip swept meticulously over his teeth; they exchanged breaths, lips and teeth full of each other’s warmth and flavor. Jiang Xiaoyu gradually sank into it, unconsciously lifting his hands to cling to Ye Lian’s shoulders.
Ye Lian’s palm rubbed over Jiang Xiaoyu’s cheek and ear, feeling the delicate softness of that skin. He lightly nipped Jiang Xiaoyu’s lower lip, sucked his tongue tip, teasing until the one in his arms trembled uncontrollably.
The kiss ended, a glistening silver thread connecting their lips. Ye Lian gripped Jiang Xiaoyu’s palm, gazing at his eyes misted with shyness and arousal, voice hoarse and restrained. “You’re so cute; what is Uncle supposed to do with you?”
They drew closer and closer; Ye Lian leaned down to peck Jiang Xiaoyu’s lips, one by one, until the little one in his arms quivered and asked, voice shaking, “Are you still sad?”
Ye Lian chuckled muffledly, pressing him tightly into his embrace. A long while later, he pulled over a nearby blanket and wrapped the person carefully. “Not sad.”
