Chapter Thirty-Two: The Pet

Shengyao carried a bowl of mango into the consulting room. After knocking and waiting for a long time, the doctor finally opened the door.

The doctor stood in the doorway, making no gesture to let Shengyao in.

Shengyao offered an apologetic smile, pushing the bowl of fruit forward. “Doctor, I just sliced some mango—please try it. I’m sorry for what happened before—I was too impulsive. I hope you can forgive me.”

He spoke with practiced ease. Ever since Bai Xiao had started making use of the clinic’s kitchen, Shengyao was often tasked with inviting the doctor to share in their meals. Lately, he’d been given an extra assignment: to apologize to the doctor.

The doctor’s eyes flickered. He accepted the mango without a word.

This was his usual manner.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of fruit you like, so I chose what's just come into season… This mango is quite sweet.”

The doctor cut off Shengyao’s attempt at small talk. “Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s all.” Shengyao answered quickly, then offered another earnest apology. “I really am sorry about before. I… I was worried about Bai Xiao’s condition. And about your treatment methods…” He hesitated.

Normally, patients and their families would have good communication with the doctor, but Shengyao’s exchanges with him were pitifully few. When he first entered the Monster Clinic, he’d been in a state of utter resignation, not expecting to accept any treatment. He didn’t believe he was ill. After laying his father-in-law to rest, he thought himself free. Everything that happened afterward felt like an absurd dream. He could no longer tell reality from illusion. He acted purely on instinct, following the dictates of his heart. He remembered begging the doctor to save Bai Xiao, but the specifics were a blur. His mind had been full of memories of the car accident, forgetting that Bai Xiao had been dead for years.

Even now, everything felt dreamlike.

He didn’t want to wake up, yet deep down he somehow knew this wasn’t real.

Shengyao met the doctor’s deep blue eyes.

They looked as if he wore cosmetic lenses, but with a strange, enchanting power. As far as Shengyao knew, no makeup technique could achieve this effect. In blockbuster movies, the dazzling close-ups of eyes always relied on digital enhancement. In reality, such special effects could never appear, especially in a human eye.

Then there were the doctor’s ten fingernails.

Shengyao’s gaze dropped, sweeping over the hand holding the bowl. The ten fingernails lay quietly on the doctor’s fingers, but Shengyao saw a laughing face on one nail shift its gaze towards the mango, while an angry face on another nail glared at him.

How was he supposed to discuss a patient’s condition with a doctor who wasn’t even human, let alone ask about the secrets of resurrecting the dead?

The doctor spoke coolly, “This is my method.”

Shengyao nodded, forcing a smile. “I understand. Then I’ll have to trouble you with Bai Xiao’s treatment going forward. If you need anything, please let me know.”

The doctor inclined his head, stepped back, and closed the door.

Shengyao’s smile collapsed as he faced the tightly shut door.

He returned to the ward, and by the time he’d walked those few steps, his smile was back in place.

“Did you give it to him? Did the doctor like it?” Bai Xiao asked, spearing a piece of mango.

“He accepted it.” Shengyao sat down beside her.

Bai Xiao naturally offered him a piece of mango. “It’s so sweet. Is this the new season’s crop?”

“Mm. If you like it, eat more.”

“Don’t buy too much. Eating mango all the time gets boring.”

“Mm…”

Looking at the golden mango, Shengyao thought of that cat called Mao Mao. The cat had emerald green eyes—a strange color for a human, but not unusual for a cat.

The problem was, Mao Mao was a cat, not a person.

He wanted to investigate Mao Mao, but how could he sit down and have a conversation with a cat, or even try to coax answers out of it? After much consideration, he realized his only approach was through the cat’s owner. However, she was a young single woman—her small apartment and the women’s shoes by the door suggested she lived alone. Given his identity, approaching her might not be as smooth as it had been with Liu Yu or Yu Guangchun.

If only he kept a cat himself, it would be natural to start a conversation with Mao Mao’s owner.

Perhaps he could borrow a pet from Boss Le…

The idea flashed through Shengyao’s mind, followed quickly by others.

He glanced at Bai Xiao, who was eating mango with relish, and asked, “Shall we get a pet?”

Bai Xiao paused, her fork stabbing into the mango and hitting the bottom of the bowl.

“Why bring that up all of a sudden?” she asked in surprise.

“I remember you always liked dogs. You’d watch dog videos and call it ‘raising dogs in the cloud,’” Shengyao said with a smile. “We never had the chance before, but now we have time. Once you’re discharged, we could get a pet together.”

Bai Xiao gazed at him for a long moment, as if weighing his sincerity.

“What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll skimp on the work and leave the dog-walking and poop-scooping to you?” Shengyao teased.

Bai Xiao looked at him a while longer, then finally gave a faint smile.

Shengyao was baffled.

“Yes, I’m very scared,” Bai Xiao replied with mock seriousness.

“I do the housework, don’t I? I cook pretty well now, too. Didn’t I make you a whole table of dishes the other day?” Shengyao protested, like a child seeking praise.

Bai Xiao burst out laughing, and when she finished, she asked gently, “Did you never have a pet all these years?”

This time, it was Shengyao’s turn to pause.

He gave a wry smile.

“No pets. Plants? Flowers? You never kept anything?” Bai Xiao asked. “My father used to keep so many flowers.”

“Mm. Dad asked me to give them away,” Shengyao said quietly.

His parents and his in-laws had all suggested he get a dog or cat, or try gardening with his father-in-law.

Keeping a pet is a commitment of more than ten years. He’d never even considered it. As for gardening, he’d helped his father-in-law for a while, but the old man soon realized his heart wasn’t in it and gave up. Before he died, he gave away all his flowers and plants, leaving none to Shengyao.

“Any new hobbies?” Bai Xiao asked.

Shengyao shook his head, smiling gently.

When Bai Xiao first passed away, no one around him mentioned it; the subject was avoided entirely. After two or three years, people seemed unable to bear it. They dragged him out to have fun—he played soccer, basketball, swam, worked out, even tried boxing, judo, off-roading, rock climbing, skydiving, and other thrilling activities. He also dabbled in music, chess, painting, theater, and art exhibitions. Group dinners, karaoke, and gaming became even more frequent.

He always seemed fully engaged, just like his happy, playful friends—yet just as quickly, he would drift away from the fun, as if his soul had left his body, watching the cheerful scene from afar.

This went on for years, until his friends, all getting older, started families and gradually gave up such high-intensity leisure. Shengyao settled into a routine, busy with work and caring for his parents and in-laws.

Thirty-five years flashed by.

“So, it’s the same as before? Soccer on weekends? But I guess you can’t stay up for the World Cup anymore?” Bai Xiao asked.

“Yeah, I can’t stay up late for matches these days,” Shengyao replied, though he didn’t tell her he’d already stopped playing weekend soccer. His friends had families, work, kids—no one had that kind of free time now. And when the kids grew up, the old fathers couldn’t play anymore.

Seeing Bai Xiao’s somewhat lost expression, Shengyao added, “They’ve taken up fishing lately. Soccer is rare now; we’re all getting old.”

Bai Xiao’s eyes lit up. “You didn’t go fishing with them? I remember you like fish.”

“Not yet. If I want fish, I just buy it at the market. Fishing doesn’t guarantee a catch—and sitting there all day sounds boring,” Shengyao grumbled, feigning annoyance.

“Then you must be lonely these years, with no one to play with.”

“I’m not a child—I don’t need someone to play with me.”

“Oh? So you don’t want me to keep you company either?” Bai Xiao teased.

“How are you the same? They’re friends, you’re my wife. You’re supposed to be with me—it’s your duty.” Shengyao put his arm around her. “You have to stay with me forever.”

“What a nuisance.”

“No complaining.”

“So if I keep a dog, or garden, or fish, you’ll do it with me?”

Shengyao made a show of distress. “Sigh… Fine… I’ll accompany you. I’ll do everything with you.”

“Hehehe…” Bai Xiao laughed. “Then come help me wash the vegetables first.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

...

In the darkness of the TV room, only a small cluster of light glowed.

The sofa, television, and projector screen were gone; in the weak, piercing light, only a square table and a single chair could be seen.

The doctor sat at the table, one hand holding a phone, the other forking mango. The room’s only light came from the phone in his palm.

On the screen, a cute pet video played.

A plump cat faced the camera, its equally round eyes glowing emerald green.

In the high-definition image, the reflection in the cat’s eyes was visible.

It was the back of a young woman, busy in the kitchen, chattering happily in a clear, bright voice.

“Mao Mao, dinner’s ready! Today there’s chicken and veggies.”

She turned halfway, carrying a bowl, her figure magnified in the cat’s eyes.

The camera zoomed out, revealing the full figure of this big cat.

A bowl adorned with a cartoon cat face was placed on the coffee table.

The cat, as if taking a step, moved from the sofa to the table, elegantly crouched down, and buried its round head in the bowl.

A hand reached in from off-screen, gently stroking the cat’s back. After a while, the hand withdrew.

The cat purred as it ate, then lifted its face to lick its pink tongue.

Another bowl appeared in the frame.

The woman’s noodle bowl and the cat’s food bowl sat side by side.

Human and cat ate together at the same coffee table.

The doctor, too, was eating as he watched. He finished his mango first, leaned back in his chair, and idly swiped the screen to play another video.

The star was still the robust tabby, but the setting had changed.

Mao Mao was curled up on a beanbag chair, body forming a ball, blending with the chair.

The door opened.

Mao Mao’s ears twitched. It lifted its round face, emerald eyes watching intently.

Hurried footsteps rushed past, into a room, and the door slammed.

Mao Mao seemed to watch the person run by, its head tracking them. At the sound of the door, it leaped off the beanbag, its white paws padding soundlessly across the floor to the bedroom door.

Mao Mao sat at the door, listening, then suddenly leapt up, grasped the round doorknob with its paws, and twisted it open with a little force.

The door swung open, and Mao Mao slipped inside.

Inside, another woman lay face down on the bed, muffled sobs escaping into her pillow.

Mao Mao jumped onto the bed, placed a white paw gently on the woman’s head, patting her softly. It bent down, nuzzled her hair, and meowed as if offering comfort.

The woman’s sobs gradually subsided.

Mao Mao lay beside her for a while, then jumped down, darted to the living room, and leapt up at a shelf. Agile and lightning-quick, it landed with a cat teaser in its mouth.

Pad pad pad…

Mao Mao darted back to the bedroom, hopped onto the bed, and shook the toy in its mouth. With each shake, the colorful butterfly at the end of the stick landed on the woman’s head.

At last, she turned her face.

Her makeup was ruined, her appearance almost frightening; her reddened eyes met Mao Mao’s green ones.

Mao Mao shook the toy again, the butterfly landing before her.

“You want to play with this? I thought you didn’t like it?” she muttered, but, prodded by the butterfly, took the toy and sat up.

She flicked the stick a few times, and Mao Mao, like a fat butterfly, jumped up and down, chasing the colorful plastic butterfly. It pounced, trapping it, and as it landed, rolled onto its back, curled its limbs around the toy, and hooked its tail around the woman’s wrist.

The woman broke into a smile through her tears, and with her free hand, rubbed Mao Mao’s exposed belly. As if bashful, Mao Mao let go of the butterfly, hugged her hand, and gently nibbled her fingers, occasionally licking her fingertips with its tiny tongue.

“Mao Mao… you’re wonderful. So handsome, so cute, so considerate… If only men were like you!” she said, burying her tear-stained face in the cat’s belly.

Mao Mao patted her face with a soft paw, as if exasperated or resigned.

A finger swiped the video, the smiley face on the doctor’s fingernail flashing past, and the scene switched.

Mao Mao sat upright in the center of the frame, with the plastic butterfly and brightly colored feathers on the floor before it.

“Ready—” came a woman’s cheerful voice from off-screen. “Go!”

Two teaser wands danced, the butterfly and feathers swirling and tangling together.

“Mao Mao! Look here! Over here!”

“Mao Mao! Come catch this! Catch this!”

Two women’s voices vied for attention.

Mao Mao sat solemn and dignified, unimpressed by the flurry of colors. It raised its head slightly, and a hint of resignation seemed to flicker in its green eyes. With a casual lift of its white paw, it half-heartedly swatted at the tangle of butterfly and feathers.

“Oh no!”

“I said it doesn’t like it anymore.”

“They got tangled, that’s why. Let’s try again!”

Mao Mao seemed to understand, and with a flick of its paw and a twist of its body, it ran off.

“Mao Mao! Don’t go!”

“Told you, it doesn’t like it anymore.”

“Maybe it likes those toy mice? I saw some online—battery powered plush mice.”

“Really? Aren’t those children’s toys?”

“No, cat toys.”

“Show me.”

Mao Mao had already climbed to the top of the cat tree, looking down as if watching two foolish humans.

It yawned, lowered its head and tail, and with its eyes half-shut, seemed to be smiling.

The doctor’s finger swiped the screen again, scrolling quickly.

The next video popped up abruptly, showing the faces of Mao Mao and Lu Meimei. The voice of Chi Ai came from off-screen: “…When are you bringing your boy~friend~to meet Mao Mao?”

The picture froze, but the voice echoed.

Click.

The screen suddenly went black, the sound cut off.

The TV room was plunged into utter darkness.

In the darkness arose eerie laughter, gradually joined by weeping and angry shouting.

Something monstrous seemed to be stirring in the gloom.