That sentence was like a small stone—its force weak, yet the moment it dropped into the calm, undisturbed lake of my heart, ripples instantly spread, restlessness and vexation swelling up with indescribable feelings. It made me want to pull this infuriating catgirl who threw my heart into chaos into my arms, as if only by doing so could I regain my composure to think things through.
I took a deep breath, then, for no reason at all, tilted my head back and let out a soft laugh, unsure whether I was mocking myself for acting like I was facing a great enemy, or mocking Zhi Nian for actually feeling lonely at the thought of being apart from me.
People laugh to release certain emotions. This laugh of mine, I think, was mostly to mock myself.
I stepped forward and gripped Zhi Nian’s hand tightly.
This time, it wasn’t just a fleeting touch like during the reward sessions. Instead, I boldly and calmly enclosed her entire hand within my own, our fingers interlaced, woven together so tightly I could feel the warmth passing between us, the almost imperceptible sweat on our palms, and, more importantly, the unique trembling rhythm passed through our fingertips as our emotions surged.
“If you’re scared, then let’s not be apart. Let’s stay together, just like this.”
I spoke softly, my tone more composed than ever. Only in this moment did I inexplicably gain a third-person perspective, feeling as if I were observing myself through the eyes of an outsider—my voice sounding so steady.
Yet at this very moment, my heart was pounding so violently it felt as if it would leap out of my chest. Still, not a single crack appeared on my surface.
Am I being too bold? Really? Actually, no. This is exactly what I should do—what I should have done long ago, not something that should have been delayed until now.
Even a seasoned fisherman must reel in his line one day. I couldn’t just keep stringing Zhi Nian along forever without giving her a proper answer. For a gentle, sensitive catgirl like Zhi Nian, that would be nothing less than cruel emotional torture.
“Really? Stay together forever? Gu Fan won’t lie to me, will you? If you’re just saying this to make me happy, you have to make it clear up front, okay? I don’t like it when Gu Fan lies to me. If you really accept spending a lifetime together, once you say it, you have to take responsibility for it.”
Zhi Nian’s voice was trembling slightly, but her expression was especially calm. She stared at me, or more precisely, at the hand I was holding.
I seemed to hear her muttering softly with her head down, but I couldn’t quite catch the words.
I lowered my head to look at her as well. All I could see was her lips moving, but no sound seemed to come out. I was curious about what she wanted to say, but I understood that sometimes, words were unnecessary.
Just like now, in the tranquil night of April, under the gaze of the yellow streetlight, in the palms where our hands were entwined, that threadlike emotion drifting between us was enough to say it all.
“Chirp, chirp, chirp~”
A bird landed in a nearby bush and began to sing, its muffled notes piercing the silence.
Zhi Nian’s shoulders suddenly relaxed, the tension that had appeared in her body when I took her hand vanishing without a trace.
In its place, she gave me a gentle smile, bright and clear, different from her usual self—only she could smile like this. I could feel it: this was a smile unique to Zhi Nian.
“Mm, we’ll be together until the end of our lives. Gu Fan, you mustn’t leave early, okay?”
We kept walking forward, our shadows stretching and shrinking under the alternating streetlights, accompanied by the crisp calls of that unknown bird, as if providing a silent soundtrack for us.
I knew that when the sun rose tomorrow, we’d return to our usual selves—exchanging cryptic glances in the classroom, sharing our lunch at midday, and saying goodbye at the fork in the road after school.
But at this moment, on this seemingly endless night road, we shared a wordless secret, a tacit understanding only the two of us could comprehend.
The place where we parked wasn’t far at all, yet I felt as if the road had been stretched countless times, time slowing to a crawl. I didn’t know if it was fate playing a trick on us by extending our journey, or if we had, without realizing it, both slowed our pace to create this special moment.
Zhi Nian’s fingers quietly slipped deeper into the spaces between mine. Her palm was sweating a little, but its warmth was deeply reassuring. I didn’t look at her; I simply tightened my grip, hoping this simple gesture could express the countless, complicated feelings swirling in my heart.
At some point, the streetlight behind us had blended our shadows into one, cast upon the dirt road ahead, now covered in pale green fallen leaves.
“Gu Fan, do you want to know what my third wish is?”
“Mm.”
“Come here, lower your head.”
Obedient to the girl’s command, I bent down, and she whispered by my ear: “If you want to know, you have to go out with me on Sunday. Only then will I tell you what my third wish is.”
“…….Alright.”
*****
“The last cup of tea, the final question. After this is over, I’ll send you out of this bamboo grove, and you and I will never meet again.”
The old woman in a cloak poured the last pot of tea into my cup, then pushed all the teaware aside, waiting silently for me to ask.
The third question… What should I ask?
To be honest, I’d already achieved everything I came here for.
The truth about the back mountain—she’d laid it bare for me. As for the existence of catgirls, it wasn’t something I could delve into right now. And the most important matter—whether I’d fall ill again—I’d already gotten a surprising answer by asking about my lifespan.
All sorts of secrets, the old woman had hinted at in a roundabout way. Personally, I’m not too interested in them. If she weren’t truly skilled, I might have doubted her, since everything sounded so fantastical.
By nature, I’m not a materialistic person. I’m indifferent to most things, never thinking of using fortune-telling or prophecy to gain advantages outside my own understanding. Living within my means is the easiest life.
Perhaps that’s why, when given a chance to ask whatever I wished, I found myself at a loss for words.
The only unsolved mysteries in my life were about the back mountain and my illness. As for others, they all lived regular lives—there was nothing that required the old woman’s divination to uncover.
After much deliberation, I decided to use this rare, precious opportunity for the catgirl girl who was so deeply connected to me.
“I want to know, as a healthy person, how long will Shen Zhi Nian live? She’s the catgirl you mentioned.”
To be honest, this was the best question I could come up with given my limited knowledge. I truly couldn’t think of any way to get rich that wouldn’t cross ethical or legal lines, and I had no interest in those anyway.
Since that was the case, why not use it to predict how long Zhi Nian would live? At least then I’d have some idea in my heart.
The old woman said nothing. She silently formed a hand seal, then remained completely still for a long time, like a wooden puppet. The wooden cabin went utterly silent, the only sound the bubbling of the boiling water.
After what felt like ages, the old woman finally came out of her trance.
“Mutual support through thick and thin… I didn’t expect this. I misjudged you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your catgirl wife—her lifespan is sixty-five years as well.”
I don’t like hot weather, but I do like sitting by the window, looking out at the summer scenery.
The outlines of the sky and buildings are so clear, not hazy like in winter, and in summer, everything you see seems to radiate vibrant energy.
The leaves are deep green, the flowers and grass are tender, even the asphalt of the streets seems to glisten with a faint sheen.
The only downside, as always, is the heat.
I was holding a small, yellow notebook, pressing it on the windowsill, absentmindedly nibbling the tip of my pen, unsure what else to add to it.
That’s right—what I was writing was the “100 things to do as a couple after getting together with Gu Fan.”
This idea came to me suddenly last night. I was so excited I couldn’t even sleep, immediately got up and dug out this rather grubby notebook, then found a pen that hadn’t run dry, and with a sense of ceremony, started jotting down all the things I wanted to do with Gu Fan.
For this, I even prepared several other colored notebooks—red, blue, purple. I originally had a green one too, but I eliminated it and sealed it in the corner of a drawer. Who knows when I’ll use it.
I planned to finish this yellow one first, listing out the hundred things we must do as a couple. Then I’d use the red one—the one for a hundred things to do after getting married. When I get pregnant, it’ll be time for the blue notebook. But that’s for later; for now, the yellow one is more than enough.
Strangely, it felt just like playing a strategy game: to win over the big bad Gu Fan, I had to write out a whole series of tasks that would boost his affection, ticking them off one by one. Only after finishing the last one could I finally knock him down for real.
Hmm, how to put it? It really does feel like a sense of accomplishment.
With that thought, my pen scratched across the page, working with even more enthusiasm than I ever took notes in class.
It didn’t take long before I’d written out a hundred things I wanted to do with Gu Fan.
Today’s sunshine really was blazing. I had no idea how those people lugging drums and wearing heavy makeup for performances could stand it.
On the first day of the anniversary festival, the streets were packed to the brim. Thankfully, I listened to Gu Fan and stayed home; otherwise, with my frail body, I’d probably end up squeezed flat before I even made it into the main area to watch the show.
But honestly, I don’t care much about performances or crowds. All I care about is what Gu Fan thinks—if he likes it, then no matter how hard it is, I’d definitely go out and accompany him.
After a while of letting my thoughts run wild, I raised my notebook in the sunlight to review my results.
“Stay over at Gu Fan’s house for a day.”
“Take a bath with Gu Fan.”
“Wear a swimsuit for Gu Fan to see.”
“Watch a romance movie with Gu Fan—hold his hand the whole time.”
“Try a legendary French kiss.”
“Ask Gu Fan to……”
In less than ten minutes, I’d already written out a list of events that easily exceeded a hundred. Was I going too far? No, no, I was actually being too reserved—it should have been a thousand or even ten thousand to really enjoy the thrill of completing these tasks.
But if I really did that, I’d probably run out of ideas around the two or three thousand mark.
Of course, it’s not that I’d get tired of it and wouldn’t want to keep being lovey-dovey with Gu Fan, it’s just that my brain can’t think of so many things to do together. I’d have to look for help online or use a search engine to check out other people’s ideas.
Finishing up with enthusiasm, I was left feeling a little bored.
It was a rare day off, but I couldn’t spend it with Gu Fan. That big liar—he’d just promised not to leave me even for a lifetime a few days ago, and now he’s out at the festival with his friends…
I stabbed the tip of my ballpoint pen into the notebook over and over, leaving marks I couldn’t erase, but most of the notebook would go unused anyway. Just those hundred things would take so much time and effort to accomplish.
Maybe it was because I was sleep deprived, or maybe the weather was just too hot. Even with the fan blasting my back at full speed, I couldn’t stop sweating.
I just felt so irritable and gloomy. To put it in cliché terms, it was like a bad premonition, a feeling that some disaster was about to strike for no reason at all.
According to a psychology video I watched recently, this is called catastrophic thinking, right? When you blow a small thing way out of proportion, like the man in the old story worrying the sky would fall, always feeling anxious for nothing.
At least I was at home, not wrapped up in thick cotton clothes—just wearing a thin dark shirt, letting the cool air swirling in make me heave a sigh of relief and feel much better.
After spacing out for a while, I finally came back to myself, took out my phone, opened the contacts app, and, seeing Gu Fan’s “online” status, sent him a cute sticker.
Just then, Big Sis also sent me a text. I opened it and took a look.
“Zhi Nian, are you off these next few days? I’m here in your town for a visit! Want to show me around a bit? Be my local guide and take me on a tour, okay?”
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