Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t dare delay too long. He got off halfway, tidied himself up, and hurried back to the courtyard.
The construction workers were packing up to get off work. Chen Yiqu stood by supervising. Seeing Jiang Xiaoyu, he said, “You troublesome thing, where did you run off to play this time?”
The Black Cat Officer crouched on the ground with an innocent look, as if he couldn’t understand a thing, and let out a meow. Chen Yiqu snorted coldly. “Dinner’s almost ready. No washing up, no eating!”
…Jiang Xiaoyu, feeling utterly hopeless, crawled into the newly bought fully automatic fur-washing machine nearby. He endured the mechanical arms’ bizarre kneading and the long drying process, then finally shook his paws and entered the house.
After the farce during the day, the house was now empty of servants and very quiet. Jiang Xiaoyu hesitated at the foot of the stairs for a moment. In the end, he figured that since he was a cat anyway, it was fine to run around everywhere. So he dashed up to the third floor.
He poked his head around like a thief, sniffing here and there. Then a familiar cold fragrance drilled into his nostrils—like white, almost transparent lotus flowers crushed on dark ebony wood, clear and crisp yet mixed with a hint of bitterness.
“Taken a bath?” Ye Lian chuckled softly.
Jiang Xiaoyu followed his gaze and looked up. The man was shirtless up top, with only a white bath towel wrapped around his lower body. His mermaid lines were deeply etched on both sides of his abdomen, disappearing into the dense forest below.
He seemed to have just dried his hair, with damp strands messily falling over his forehead, exuding a lazy, casual sexiness. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his whole body radiating a primal wildness, like a lion leisurely strolling its territory after a full meal.
Jiang Xiaoyu had felt awkward glimpsing Zhou Wantong changing clothes, but seeing Ye Lian made his face heat up. He panicked and lowered his head, not knowing where to look, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He didn’t even have time to be glad he was currently in cat form.
“Eaten yet?” Ye Lian asked again. Seeing no answer and the entire cat shrinking into a ball, he approached with a mischievous glint. “What’s wrong, Baby?”
“B-Baby?” Jiang Xiaoyu was startled by the nickname, his whiskers trembling nonstop as he meowed stutteringly. The man leaned closer and closer, until Jiang Xiaoyu could feel the heat of his skin. A water droplet slid from Ye Lian’s jaw and landed on Jiang Xiaoyu’s forehead with a “plink,” like a thunderclap exploding in his mind. He instantly fluffed up, fur standing on end like a startled hedgehog. The next second, he bolted.
But in his panic, Jiang Xiaoyu didn’t notice the stair railing beside him. With a “bang,” he crashed right into it. Ignoring the pain, he scrambled up and fled, his four little paws scraping a series of frantic claw marks on the floor.
The man was amused by his reaction. His low laughter echoed in the room, but he didn’t chase. He simply watched the fluffed-up little black cat flee downstairs with great interest, his eyes full of teasing.
Jiang Xiaoyu tastelessly wolfed down the cat food prepared by the old butler, then buried himself headfirst in the Husky’s dog bed. It took quite a while to suppress that strange, intense throbbing in his heart.
Moonlight flowed like water, cicadas chirped noisily. Jiang Xiaoyu poked his head out from the doghouse, his eyes glowing like two lightbulbs in the night as he dashed toward the basement.
He rummaged through the changing room for a long time but couldn’t find a single piece of clothing… He didn’t want to waste time going back to the mountainside, so gritting his teeth through the shame, he sat naked in front of the screen and started operating. No one could see anyway—he brainwashed himself.
As the Trojan program activated, Jiang Xiaoyu entered the backend management page. Thank goodness—the Ye Residence’s surveillance cleanup cycle was three months, so it was still salvageable.
In this case, the victim’s autopsy report had been destroyed in the fire, and the body, due to severe giant syndrome, hadn’t gone through standard identification procedures before direct cremation. Thus, when the case files reached the Case Handling Office, there was no exact info on the victim’s time of death—just a rough range estimated from the last public sighting and the time the body was found.
Jiang Xiaoyu unconsciously nibbled the knuckle of his left index finger, eyes glued to the screen. First, the butler appeared, leading two people behind him. In front was Ji Wangan, whom he’d seen that day, followed by Ye Lian.
The two got into a car and vanished from the courtyard surveillance. On the night of the victim’s last sighting, Ye Lian and Ji Wangan had been together.
Jiang Xiaoyu instinctively clenched his teeth, jaw tightening into a line. “Hiss—” He inhaled sharply. This bite was too hard; his knuckle was already bruised. He clenched his fist, unable to articulate the failure and frustration surging in his heart.
He trusted his instincts—they were a honed instinct from childhood. From the first glance at Ye Lian to their later interactions, even knowing he was a suspect, he’d followed his gut, feeling he wasn’t a bad guy.
Until the footage on the screen slapped him in the face.
—
Deep into the night, the clock hands had quietly passed two. Despite the thickening darkness outside, Ye Lian remained sleepless. Alone, he shed his polite mask, a thin chill on his face—the faint weariness after power and desire were sated.
He sat quietly at the desk, right hand propping his cheek, long fingers tapping rhythmically on the surface. He didn’t know how long he’d waited or how many taps he’d made, until he spotted that little black cat on the screen. Only then did amusement flicker in his amber eyes. When he saw the little cat transform into a handsome, upright youth, a short laugh escaped his lips uncontrollably.
The monitoring room’s lights were dim and yellow. Under the warm glow, the youth’s skin took on a strange sheen. Through the surveillance, it was an almost translucent cool white, which dissatisfied Ye Lian. He recalled the daytime when he’d collapsed into his arms—the skin under his fingertips had been warm, smooth and moist like fine porcelain, not this cold through a screen.
“Baby, how come your skin color doesn’t match your fur at all.” He murmured, “I really want to peel you open and see what you really look like underneath.”
In the thirty-plus degree night, Jiang Xiaoyu inexplicably shivered. He rubbed the goosebumps on his arms. “Must be Master cursing me.” His social circle was pathetically small; the only one he could think of badmouthing him was Jin Ge.
Muttering to himself, he clicked through frame by frame and found that Ye Lian returned shortly after leaving, in another car. The time gap was off—the victim’s last footage was hours away. He switched to the mansion’s interior cams and saw Ye Lian staying in the living room the whole time, with the Husky beside him.
Jiang Xiaoyu exhaled, trying to ignore that inexplicable emotion in his heart. “Cat Officer’s instincts never fail!” he muttered to himself, the corners of his mouth unconsciously curving up slightly.
The later footage matched what the butler had revealed—the car was borrowed and only returned a few days ago.
“But this doesn’t completely rule out Ye Lian as a suspect.” Jiang Xiaoyu calmed his mind, feeling his investigative direction was off. “Ji Wangan, huh…” He stared at the man on the screen, forming a plan.
Ye Lian watched Jiang Xiaoyu’s changing expressions closely, like a hunter lurking in the shadows observing his prey. When Jiang Xiaoyu stared thoughtfully at Ji Wangan on the screen, his crow-feather lashes drooped, nearly covering his eyes. After a long moment, Ye Lian slowly raised his hand and dialed Ji Wangan’s number.
“Hello? Bro?” Ji Wangan was at a bar and hadn’t wanted to answer, but seeing the caller ID, he hurriedly covered the receiver and moved to a quieter spot. “So late—what’s up?”
Ye Lian’s tone was mild. “Nothing, just checking on you. Still out playing this late?”
Ji Wangan chuckled. “Out bar-hopping with my senior. Heading out soon. You? It’s past two and you’re still up?”
Though brothers, they hadn’t grown up together, and with Ye Lian seven or eight years older, there was a generation gap. After some awkward chit-chat, Ye Lian said, “I bought another car. It’ll arrive in a few days—take it for a spin.”
“Thanks, bro!” Ji Wangan agreed.
“No need to be so polite between brothers.” Ye Lian teased. “But head home early. Don’t get grounded by Old Madam again.”
“Right, what exactly did you do to piss off Old Madam?”
Ji Wangan faltered with an “ah ah,” his laugh strained. “N-Nothing! Senior’s calling me—gotta hang up, bro.”
Ye Lian pursed his lips and stood by the window, gaze piercing through the glass to some vague point in the distance.
—
Jiang Xiaoyu’s head throbbed; he’d been woken by a rooster again. He was baffled—the Ye Residence didn’t keep chickens, so why did one crow every dawn? Wild ones from the mountain? Irritated, he draped a paw over his ears, burying his whole cat head into his belly.
“Little kitty, wanna go running?” The voice made Jiang Xiaoyu think he’d misheard. His ears twitched slightly, sleepy eyes blinking dazedly until they focused on a handsome face.
“Mm… Ye Lian?” He made a groggy nasal sound, head still fuzzy from lack of sleep.
Jiang Xiaoyu raised one paw, clumsily rubbing his own face in an attempt to wake himself up a bit. After a good while, he finally seemed to realize something. He abruptly sat up straight, his almond-shaped eyes going wide. “So early?”
Beauty misleads the people. It must be that this dawn glow was too beautiful, causing him to abandon sleep. Jiang Xiaoyu lolled his tongue as he ran alongside Ye Lian. “How is your stamina so good?”
Ye Lian naturally couldn’t answer, so he curved his eyes and said, “Little kitty, keep it up. We still have to run back to the mountaintop.”
One person and one cat ran back and forth for over a dozen li. Jiang Xiaoyu was completely spent, collapsing at Ye Lian’s feet and panting raggedly. “The cat can’t anymore. The cat’s gonna die.” His heart and lungs felt like they were about to explode. When he realized he’d been scooped into the man’s arms, his brain exploded too.
Ye Lian held the water bottle and gently brought it to Jiang Xiaoyu’s mouth, saying softly, “Open up and drink some water.”
Jiang Xiaoyu really did dazedly open his mouth, gulping down a few mouthfuls purely on instinct.
“Little fool, it leaked onto your neck.” There was indulgence in Ye Lian’s voice. His fingertip brushed Jiang Xiaoyu’s lip corner—the touch soft and hot, carrying a heart-stirring intimacy.
Jiang Xiaoyu was sure he must have gotten heatstroke from all that running. That’s why his limbs went limp and powerless, boneless as he melted into a puddle of black sesame paste, draped over Ye Lian’s sturdy arm all the way back home.
After bathing in the courtyard and waiting for his meal, he was still dazed and out of it. It wasn’t until he heard Ye Lian say to Chen Yiqu, “Wangan says he’s coming over for dinner. Call the hotel this afternoon and have a chef come by,” that he snapped out of it.
Jiang Xiaoyu took a bite of cat food. His heart burned with frustration at his earlier spineless reaction. He gnashed his teeth. “Ji Wangan! You’re finally coming!”
