Originally wanting to tell Zhi Nian not to mind, these small bump marks no one would care about, no one would pursue. Yet feeling she was foolishly cute, actually feeling apologetic toward this kind of inorganic thing.
Unexpectedly Zhi Nian’s expression was especially serious, saying no, I have to patch it up, otherwise later every time Gu Fan passes here and sees this patch of wall plaster, he will feel I am a restless and unpublic-spirited bad catgirl.
When she spoke this sentence it made my heart suddenly tremble. The next day she truly brought wall-patching materials.
I carried a chair down from upstairs. Zhi Nian devoutly knelt on the chair, the backs of her feet in white socks flexibly pressing against the chair surface.
She raised her little head, the expression especially serious. The tip of her tail tapped the floor again and again.
I wanted to go help, yet was stopped by Zhi Nian.
Normally soft and accepting of all my arrangements, at this moment she was especially stubborn in also wanting to take on all responsibility herself.
Coming back to my senses, I extended a finger and stroked that patched wall plaster.
Inexplicably associating to after patching the wall, the extremely persistent catgirl only then completely relaxed.
She did not even put on shoes, wearing socks directly stepping on the dusty stairwell, like flying as she pounced toward me.
This time she carefully avoided any place that might accidentally bump. Slightly lowering her head and stretching her head over, she softly said she wanted me to rub her head as a reward for herself.
Indeed, the patched traces just felt different in touch from the others.
I stood for a while at this corner of the fourth floor before continuing upward.
Arriving at the home doorway, I took out the key and opened the door. The lights inside the house were not on. The living room curtains were also drawn. The light was very dim.
Parents were still busy with matters in the hometown and had not returned much these few days. At the entrance only two pairs of scattered slippers were placed. Those should be theirs, never tidied up.
I opened the shoe cabinet, picked up those two pairs of slippers and put them in, changing into my own slippers. Unintentionally I saw a pair of small pink slippers in the corner, with a cute Kirby raising its hand in greeting drawn on them.
Recalling for a long time, I only then remembered this was the dedicated slippers Mother bought for Zhi Nian in elementary school.
Every time coming to my home, Zhi Nian would familiarly take them out from the shoe cabinet.
Later when the times coming home increased, Mother simply never put them back into the shoe cabinet, always placing them outside. Until after graduation when I and Zhi Nian had a conflict and no longer had contact, this pair of pink Kirby slippers was also personally put into the shoe cabinet by me.
Looking at them out made one feel uncomfortable. At that time I should have thought that way.
There is an old saying that time can dilute all scars.
In these years sealed into the shoe cabinet, as memories faded, I had indeed almost forgotten all these things cleanly.
On the living room coffee table sat half a cup of completely cooled water. On the sofa draped the jacket I had changed out of yesterday.
The entire house was quiet and peaceful, only the refrigerator weng weng humming.
I stood at the entrance and suddenly felt this home was large to the point of emptiness, bringing along the heart also feeling empty.
To be honest, I rarely had this kind of melancholy time. I seemed to be subconsciously avoiding something.
Always filling myself with various plans and schedules, letting myself act nonstop, not stopping to feel the atmosphere and situation of the surrounding environment.
I could not clearly say what reason caused it. Father rarely stayed at home. His attitude toward me had always been free-range, fully handing household chores to Mother to manage.
And in the shaping of childhood personality, Mother should have been the one with the greatest influence on me. She was also a vigorous and fiery personality. Using one word to describe it was action-oriented, never letting herself be idle.
If speaking of the turning point of change, perhaps it was the day I was diagnosed with the incurable terminal illness? It changed both my and Mother’s personalities entirely.
Forget it. It had all passed. The illness came without warning, and now also healed without warning. No need to worry anymore.
Downing in one gulp that cup of water on the coffee table that I had not finished drinking in the morning, I walked into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe.
Take a shower, change clothes, then go find Zhi Nian.
Looking at the few still decent clothes hanging in the wardrobe, my intention.
Casually picking up a deep blue shirt and comparing it on my body, I walked in front of the full-length mirror and spaced out for a while.
Looking at the youth reflected in the mirror, the one who had always been at ease in social occasions, at this moment the expression looked a bit nervous and hesitant, even carrying a bit of expectant meaning.
Was this still me?
The corners of my mouth inexplicably hooked up. I also felt the self before my eyes was very laughable, or rather very novel. Perhaps if classmates saw me like this fretting and hesitating over what clothes looked good to wear, they would definitely feel surprised and amazed, right?
Usually even if I needed to go out, I did not need to spend time carefully matching clothes. I would quickly lock onto what clothes were most suitable for this occasion, then pick them out a day in advance, confirm there were no holes or loose threads, then iron them neatly.
After randomly thinking for a while, I picked a pure white cotton T-shirt and a thin linen-colored shirt, matching below with navy blue khaki pants. This color matching was clean and pure. Too complicated I also felt was not very suitable for the upcoming scene of meeting Zhi Nian.
What to say upon meeting?
“I wanted to see you.”
Too cheesy. No.
“I ran into a fortune-teller at the plaza. At her place I saw your past hesitation and difficulty.”
Too strange, like straying into extraordinary elements. Although the existence of catgirls in this world was already quite eerie.
“Let’s be together. I want to become your boyfriend.”
Too direct. Would scare Zhi Nian, right?
“I want to take care of you for a lifetime, return to the former self. Can I?”
Too… too heavy.
I put the selected clothes into the laundry basket and turned toward the bathroom.
My footsteps compared to the usual steady and rhythmic ones had nine-tenths more urgency.
I even felt that I was actually shy? Was this an emotion I would produce?
The water heater light was on. I twisted open the switch and adjusted to an appropriate temperature.
Water hua hua smashed onto the tiles. Steam slowly rose, blurring the figure in the mirror.
Spacing out toward the foggy mirror for a while, I reached out and wiped once.
The person in the mirror looked a bit unfamiliar.
It was not that the appearance had changed, but that the eyes had changed.
Previously when I looked at myself, I always felt something was missing in the eyes, like those robots in TV dramas that only knew how to act according to instructions? Bland as if not attached with any emotions.
But today was different. These amber pupils currently presented before my eyes had something extra inside—unable to say whether it was determination or nervousness, perhaps both. Not that extreme, but indeed having similarities to them.
I washed a bit longer than usual.
The showerhead on the head rinsed for a long time, long enough that the entire body was warmed through.
Drying the body and changing into new clothes, I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself again.
“Mm, not bad.”
Rarely using the method of talking to myself to add some confidence for myself.
The hair was still not dry. Water droplets dripped down from the tips of the hair, falling onto the shirt collar and soaking out a few deep-colored small round spots.
I wiped twice with the towel. Just as I was about to go find the hair dryer—the phone rang.
Not a message notification sound, but an incoming call ringtone, and one I had set separately.
The screen also lit up. A familiar name jumped out.
It was Zhi Nian.
The towel somehow slipped from my hand, falling onto the floor by my feet. I lowered my head and glanced once, not picking it up.
The phone on the nightstand weng vibrated, as if urging.
I took a deep breath, hurried a few steps over, pressed answer, and raised the phone to my ear.
“…Hello?”
On the other end of the phone there was no sound at all. Very quiet, as if this greeting I made had fallen into a no-man’s land, with no response appearing.
I doubtfully placed the phone in front of me, swiped the screen once. It displayed ‘In call 0:06.’ Zhi Nian had not hung up the call.
Turning on speakerphone, I quietly waited for more than ten seconds, perhaps longer, then I heard Zhi Nian’s voice.
Not far not near, carrying a bit of light panting, as if running, or just finished exercising.
“Gu Fan, are you listening?”
Zhi Nian’s voice sounded not quite right. A bit faster than usual. In the connection of the pronunciation there was a bit of broken discordance. The ending tone slightly rose, carrying a kind of emotion I had not heard for a long time.
Not sadness, and not completely anger.
More like… the powerlessness after being swallowed by despair.
The hand gripping the phone tightened. I turned off speakerphone mode and placed the phone back to my ear.
Wind poured in from outside the window, blowing the curtains. Sunlight flashed once in the window gap.
“I’m here.”
The other end of the phone was silent for two seconds, then Zhi Nian said—
“The feeling of being fed by a girl at the celebration, is it very un…”
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