Chapter Forty-Four: Returning Home

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Music played continuously from the phone, the call not answered as swiftly as hoped. Shengyao grew anxious, gripping his phone tightly with one hand, while the other trembled against the wall.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, yet perhaps only a few seconds had passed. Suddenly, light burst forth from the wall beneath his palm.

Startled, Shengyao was blinded by a dazzling whiteness; when his vision returned to normal, he found himself facing two glass doors. The glow of incandescent lights shone through, illuminating his face and casting his shadow behind him.

This abrupt brightness cut through the darkness of the street.

Shengyao squeezed his phone hard and hurriedly pushed open the familiar door.

His feet landed on the tiled floor of the Monster Clinic. The clinic’s lobby remained as old and grimy as ever, bearing the traces of time, yet not as damaged as Shengyao had imagined—hard to believe a five-meter-tall creature had just entered here.

He quickened his pace, about to rush toward the patient rooms, but the sound of a door opening stopped him. He turned sharply and saw the wooden door of the consultation room slowly creaking open.

The hinges groaned, followed by measured footsteps, reminiscent of a kindly elder leisurely beckoning him forward.

Shengyao saw the doctor.

The doctor, as always, wore a medical cap, mask, and white coat, revealing only his deep blue eyes. Even his fingernails remained unchanged, adorned with vivid, abstract faces that wept and laughed, their voices forming a melodic tune—long, gentle, like a mother softly singing a lullaby to her child.

In the doctor's hands rested a cat.

It was a gray-striped tabby, its fur disheveled, tail drooping, body thin and frail, easily held between the doctor’s palms.

Shengyao noticed its bony spine and tiny head.

The doctor walked toward Shengyao, stopping right before him.

Now Shengyao could see the cat’s tightly shut eyes. Its face, like its body, was small and gaunt, only a skeletal frame left, nothing of the adorable roundness typical of cats. Its mouth was slightly open, as if lost in a sweet dream. It lay motionless in the doctor's hands, not even its chest rising.

“Hello? Is this the delivery guy? We have some matters now…” Zhou Hai’s agitated voice suddenly burst from the phone.

Shengyao shuddered, raising the phone to his ear. “…I’ve found Maomao.”

The voice on the other end fell silent.

“I… will bring it back…” Shengyao whispered, then hung up and put away his phone.

He carefully took Maomao from the doctor’s hands.

The sensation was strange to the touch.

Shengyao abruptly recalled the car accident from thirty-five years ago, sensing that the Maomao in his arms differed from Bai Xiao then. He had been right beside Bai Xiao, witnessing her life ebb away. Maomao, however, seemed long dead, drained of all vitality. Its body was cold and stiff, like a dried corpse.

He remembered how soft and docile Maomao had been in Lu Meimei’s arms.

He also remembered just minutes ago, seeing Maomao in monstrous form, brimming with a vitality unlike any living creature.

Now, all of it was gone.

Shengyao hugged Maomao tightly and turned away.

Footsteps echoed from the patient room.

Bai Xiao emerged, just in time to see Shengyao’s back as he turned. She opened her mouth, “Husband…”

Her voice traveled through throat and mouth, carrying from her body into the clinic’s lobby, but failed to reach Shengyao’s ears.

Bai Xiao frowned, worry flickering in her eyes. She stepped forward, as if to catch up with Shengyao, but upon glimpsing the doctor, she abruptly halted.

Her hands fell to her sides, clutching her hem, lips pressed tight, watching Shengyao depart from the Monster Clinic.

…

Shengyao hailed a taxi at the intersection, paying extra to sit with Maomao in his arms.

The phone vibrated and rang repeatedly during the ride.

Shengyao ignored it all.

The car soon arrived at the residential complex where Lu Meimei lived.

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Shengyao pressed the doorbell, and after a while, someone silently let him in.

Upstairs, the apartment door remained closed. After knocking, Zhou Hai opened it.

The first thing Zhou Hai saw was the cat in Shengyao’s arms. His annoyance turned to fury as he grabbed Shengyao’s collar, shoving him toward the door and growling in a low voice, “What are you trying to pull? If you want money, just say so, but you stole Maomao and brought this thing here?!”

Shengyao met Zhou Hai’s gaze, “Where is Miss Lu?”

“You bring Maomao, I’ll pay you,” Zhou Hai suppressed his anger. “How much do you want?”

“I want to give Maomao to Miss Lu.”

“I told you—”

“Who is it?”

A voice suddenly sounded behind Zhou Hai.

His body stiffened instantly.

“Who…is it? Is it Maomao?” Lu Meimei’s voice was hoarse and nasal, as if she had just cried. There was no expectation in her tone, more like someone sleepwalking, speaking without thinking.

Shengyao pushed past Zhou Hai.

Zhou Hai tried to block him again but was held aside by Shengyao’s hand, pressed against the door frame.

Passing Zhou Hai, Shengyao saw Lu Meimei.

Lu Meimei’s face was streaked with tears, her eyes and nose swollen and red.

Like Zhou Hai, her gaze immediately landed on the cat in Shengyao’s arms.

Her dried tear ducts erupted anew.

Lu Meimei’s vision blurred. She stepped out, stumbling over the shoes at the door, almost falling, but then rushed forward, clutching the cat in Shengyao’s arms.

Shengyao released his hold and stepped back.

“Meimei…” Zhou Hai tried to speak.

Lu Meimei suddenly dropped to her knees, wailing.

She cried out like a child, heedless of anything.

She stroked Maomao’s head, back, tail, and paws. Tears blurred her sight, her hands trembled, but she meticulously examined Maomao from head to tail.

“Meimei, don’t cry. We’ll look again after sunrise. Maomao must have gone out to play. This guy brought this to scare us on purpose,” Zhou Hai squatted next to Lu Meimei, soothingly patting her back while glaring fiercely at Shengyao.

Shengyao lowered his head, then suddenly looked up, glancing around the room.

“Meow…meow, meow.” A kitten clumsily rolled to the doorway, struggling over the shoes to reach Zhou Hai and Lu Meimei’s feet.

Zhou Hai picked up Jingjing, “Meimei, don’t cry. We still have Jingjing. You’ve frightened Jingjing. Tomorrow, we’ll look for Maomao with Jingjing, we’ll find him for sure.”

Jingjing’s round eyes stared at the cat cradled in Lu Meimei’s arms. It stretched out a little paw, gently touching the cat, then extended its neck, flapping in Zhou Hai’s hands as if trying to leap into Maomao’s embrace.

Zhou Hai quickly pulled it back.

Jingjing immediately cried out, its voice shrill.

Shengyao lowered his head again, turned, and walked toward the elevator.

“Hey! Don’t leave! Tell me, where did you take Maomao?” Zhou Hai shouted, jumping up.

“That is Maomao.”

The reply came not from Shengyao, but from Lu Meimei.

Lu Meimei buried her face against the cat’s belly, “This is Maomao… it’s Maomao… Maomao… Maomao was like this then… I knew it… these nine years… these nine years… Maomao…”

Her sobs made her words incoherent, unable to form sentences.

Zhou Hai, at a loss, returned to embrace Lu Meimei’s shoulders. The kitten in his palm hopped onto Maomao, pawing at Maomao’s back, nuzzling its head against Maomao’s, mewing softly.

The elevator door opened.

Shengyao entered and closed the door.

…

In the dark TV room, the projection screen was black. Light flashed across it, and at the center appeared the words “A Cat’s Life.” The light circled once, falling like a meteor beneath the words, transforming into “The End.”

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The image froze.

The doctor sat quietly on the sofa, beside him a folder and phone. The phone’s screen was connected to the projector.

He gazed at the “The End” on the screen for several minutes, as if savoring the finished film’s story, then picked up the folder and phone.

A door appeared in the TV room, unlike the wooden door of the consultation room, this new entrance was a stone archway.

The projection’s light poured into the arch, revealing massive stones inside. The stones resembled steles, garden rocks, or even a real mountain. The lighting made it impossible to discern their size. Within the illuminated area, abstract rock paintings could be seen: tiny figures, herds of lions, cattle, and horses.

The doctor’s silhouette blocked the light.

As he entered the archway, the projector signaled the connection had broken, turning the screen blue.

The doctor circled the giant stone, his figure vanishing into the doorway. Only the echoing footsteps remained, resonating from within.

The echo sounded vast, as if the space beyond was boundlessly wide.

The footsteps grew ever more distant, yet louder.

Thunderous footsteps, like a giant stomping, carried a tremor.

On the other side of the TV room, a corresponding vibration arose, as if replying to the doctor’s steps.

Suddenly, the TV room was plunged into utter darkness, as though the power had been cut.

Yet the footsteps and tremors persisted.

The entire pitch-black space became like a bottomless well, echoing endlessly; or like the legendary endless abyss, harboring monsters unknown, now raging within.

No one knew how much time had passed before the footsteps and tremors ceased simultaneously.

Darkness became true, pure darkness.

No light, no sound.

As if everything was ultimately devoured by this darkness.

…

Shengyao walked back to the Monster Clinic.

He pushed open the door once more, and looking up, saw Bai Xiao standing in the lobby.

Bai Xiao seemed to have waited for him a long time or perhaps just emerged from the patient room, drawn by the sound.

She smiled at Shengyao, her gaze gentle, arms slightly spread.

Shengyao shuffled toward her and embraced her tightly.

He seemed to want to press Bai Xiao into himself, like a drowning man grasping whatever he could, refusing to let go.

He buried his face in Bai Xiao’s neck, just as Lu Meimei had held Maomao and wept, he held Bai Xiao and let his tears flow.

Maomao was dead…

Despite the doctor’s treatment, Maomao lived nine years, yet still could not escape death.

Shengyao felt the warm, soft body in his arms and couldn’t help but wonder: was this what Lu Meimei felt after nine years of holding Maomao? Yet just moments ago, what she held at last was… was only a corpse…

Lu Meimei’s cries seemed to echo in Shengyao’s ears.

He hugged Bai Xiao even tighter, chest pressed to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. He had embraced this woman countless times, had held her lifeless, had held her as she decayed. Those were nightmares he wished never to recall. But someday… someday…

Bai Xiao shifted her head, resting her chin on Shengyao’s shoulder.

He squeezed her so tightly she nearly struggled for breath.

But it did not matter.

Bai Xiao gently stroked Shengyao’s back.

Her eyes reflected the glow of the incandescent lights.

She closed her eyes, lowered her head, hiding her expression, silently accepting Shengyao’s embrace.