Chapter 14: I Lost My Cat

For working professionals, no matter how dire the situation, the top priority remains completing the job.

From the moment Jian Zhaowen and Xiao Ma entered, thirty minutes had passed. Including the time Yu Zhimei spent on the phone in the bedroom, it was thirty-five minutes. Whether Ruru slipped out through the stairs or jumped off the balcony, half an hour was more than enough for him to run anywhere. Frantic, Yu Zhimei dashed downstairs, searching every alleyway, side street, drain, neighborhood, construction site, and church—but as dusk fell, there was no sign of Ruru. Jian followed behind, watching her disheveled hair and panicked figure, unsure of what to say.

Though outwardly stubborn, Xiao Ma felt guilty and stayed behind in Yu Zhimei’s apartment to oversee things. Seeing the two return empty-handed, he grew uneasy. Yu Zhimei softly said: “Can you both leave? I still need to work overtime.”

“I’m leaving then.” Xiao Ma quickly distanced himself: “Move out by this weekend.”

“I’ll leave once I find my cat.”

“I’m getting married too. Others can delay, but you can’t. I still need to renovate your walls.”

“My cat’s missing—I have to look for him.” Yu Zhimei suppressed her anger.

“It’s just a cat. I’ll compensate you. How much did your cat cost? Add in food, litter, and miscellaneous expenses—I’ll split it with Jian Zhaowen. You can’t blame us entirely; after all, I didn’t damage the house despite you keeping a cat here.”

Jian’s eyebrows shot up: “Can you stop talking?”

“This isn’t just about a cat. No other cat can replace him—he’s family to me.” Yu Zhimei kept her temper in check.

“Huh?” Xiao Ma feigned a headache: “There are actually people who treat their cats like children?”

Yu Zhimei sat at the table, burying her face in her hands. Jian Zhaowen couldn’t see her expression and sighed: “I’ll go out and look again.”

“Forget it—it’s midnight. I’ve wasted an entire day helping you look for your cat. I’ll come back tomorrow.” Xiao Ma looked guilty but didn’t know how to make amends. Pulling Jian along as if they were teammates, he said: “Stop looking. Do you really think someone will return such an expensive cat if they’ve found it? It’s probably been taken home by now.”

Jian’s face hardened: “This has nothing to do with you anymore.”

Cats weren’t creatures that made noise easily, but without Ruru, the room felt eerily silent—so quiet that even the wind could be heard. Yu Zhimei left the doors and windows open, her hair tousled by the breeze. Sitting in front of her computer, her eyes reddened: “Can you help me look one more time? I have urgent work to finish—it’s almost too late.”

Jian knocked on the three households sharing the second floor. Most of the girls living there were casually dressed and seemed a little embarrassed to see Jian, but none had seen the cat. On the first floor, two of the three households were elderly couples, and the third was a husband-and-wife team who sold pastries and were always out early and back late. Sighing, Jian knocked on 203. Shi Rui was startled to see the handsome man from the third floor come down to find her. Upon hearing that he was helping Yu Zhimei look for her cat, she bit her lip thoughtfully: “I went to the hospital this morning and came back through the market, but I didn’t see the cat with folded ears you described. But I’ll definitely keep an eye out. Or… could you leave me your number?”

“Of course. Though we’re moving soon, so this is urgent. You’re not moving?”

“It’s my right—I still have six months left on my lease, and I’m determined to stay. You’re Jian Zhaowen, right? Can I call you Brother Zhaowen?”

Jian looked at the girl with her braided hair draped over her ear. She appeared soft-spoken but was surprisingly stubborn. Unsure if leaving his number would help, he did it anyway. He used his flashlight until his phone died, knocking on doors house by house in the neighborhood, but still no sign of Ruru. Yu Zhimei hadn’t closed her door, seemingly waiting for him to return. Seeing him come back empty-handed, she fought back tears, though her eyes remained red. Jian remembered playing games at Yu Zhimei’s place—Ruru had always been cautious, only curling up to sleep beside her. When it got too warm, he’d move to Jian’s feet, sniffing tentatively before lying down. The white-and-yellow-furred Ruru occasionally twitched his folded ears, utterly endearing. Jian wasn’t unfamiliar with cats or girls who treated them like their lives, but thinking about how he hadn’t closed the door when he entered made him regretful.

“You should go. I might have to pull an all-nighter—I won’t finish this work.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yu Zhimei gave a bitter smile: “Apologies don’t help, and I can’t accept them. After I finish work, I’ll go out and look again. You should head back.”

“Then I’ll wait until you’re done working, and we’ll look together.”

“If I say I don’t want to see you right now, can you understand?” After a pause, Yu Zhimei added softly: “The cat is mine—it’s all my fault. Please… let me be alone for a while.”

Editing footage, adding subtitles, and uploading the video, Yu Zhimei worked through the night and called her boss, Xing Zong. His voice, slurred from drinking, still carried a laugh: “Sister Mei, lightning speed! Amazing! What would we do without you!”

“Boss Xing, I need to take a leave. My cat’s missing.”

“What happened?” After listening to Yu Zhimei’s calm explanation, Xing Zong cursed on the other end: “It’s just one episode. You should’ve told me earlier—it’s partly my fault for dumping all the responsibility on you.”

“It’s work that needs to be done.”

“Sister Mei, chasing trends isn’t that important. Losing your cat is a big deal.” Xing Zong’s tone softened: “Focus on finding your cat and get back into work mode. We can’t afford to hire another director right now—you’re our mainstay for landing ads.” Though Yu Zhimei spoke calmly, she was eager to hang up and continue searching for Ruru. Boss Xing was loyal, but with over a dozen employees depending on the company for their livelihoods, either being acquired by a larger firm or securing Series A funding was critical. If this episode didn’t perform well, Xing Zong’s rhetoric would shift. The company group chat was buzzing for her—after the departure of the colleague handling the official account, they’d finally found a suitable replacement. They’d also hired an assistant for Xing Zong, someone with basic car knowledge to help with live streams, and hoped Yu Zhimei could assist with the interview the next day. She agreed to everything, filling up a page in her notebook. Hanging up, she sat on the floor, overwhelmed by her packed schedule for the month—it was impossible to keep up.

She gazed at the morning light outside and took a deep breath. So much time had passed—it seemed unlikely she’d find Ruru now.

Ruru had earned plenty of praise for his folded ears and large eyes, but no one knew he’d been abandoned in a backyard. When Yu Zhimei worked in the suburbs, she’d stumbled upon a post about abandoned cats while waiting at a bus stop during the rain. The backyard cattery bred curly-haired cats through inbreeding, and an entire litter had fallen ill. Several kittens, barely a month old, couldn’t even walk steadily, mewing weakly. The breeder threatened to throw them out if they couldn’t sell them, leaving them to die naturally. Yu Zhimei had never considered owning a cat before, but that night, staring at Ruru’s photo, she couldn’t sleep. She maxed out her credit card to take a taxi and bring Ruru home. Born with a diaphragmatic hernia, Ruru was smaller than healthy curled-ear cats and remained frail until he was a year old. After adopting Ruru, Yu Zhimei stopped traveling altogether, fearing he’d fall ill while she was away. She never imagined his final farewell would come in the form of going missing.

Outside of work hours, Yu Zhimei wandered the neighborhood, posting lost cat notices. She searched every unfamiliar alleyway, greasy markets, and dilapidated houses marked with “Demolition.” Nothing—no trace of him anywhere. Eight out of ten calls she received were scams, and friends recommended cat-finding teams or online methods like the “scissors technique.” Yu Zhimei spent two months’ rent trying every approach. Finally, the cat-finding team gave her a serious response: “Miss Yu, our methods are relatively scientific. If we still can’t find him, it’s possible your Ruru has been adopted. Some people, upon discovering a valuable breed, will take them in directly. Compared to becoming stray, it’s a better outcome—at least he’ll live happily…”

Perhaps years ago, her mother had joked over the phone: “When life gets shaky, you praise having a job. When work gets stressful, you lament having a small home. Your house is rented, your job is temporary—you’re just swaying in between. What’s there to brag about in your big-city life?” Her mother’s tone was teasing, but Yu Zhimei had hung up instantly, sulking for a week. She hated how easily her mother saw through her life, yet she firmly believed things would improve over time. She had once genuinely considered this place her anchor—with Ruru and her carefully decorated little home, even when work was tedious or office politics exhausting, she could always relax at home. Now, everything had been stripped away, and she had no choice but to focus entirely on work once more—her mother’s words had come true again.

She dialed her mother’s number, not mentioning the lost cat or her upcoming move, and simply asked: “How are you and Dad doing?”

“We’re fine, just about to sleep—why are you calling so late? Something on your mind?”

Fighting back tears, she forced a smile into her voice: “Can’t I call before bed?”

“Of course. How’s Ruru doing? It’s been a while since you sent us any photos.”

“He’s playing in the bedroom while I work in the living room. Mom, can I ask you something? Remember when our dog Duoduo went missing over a decade ago—how did you feel?” Duoduo had been their childhood mutt who grew too old to walk by the time she was a teenager. One day, when Grandma forgot to close the gate, she wandered off.

“Did Ruru get lost?”

“No. A friend’s cat… got lost.”

“We didn’t raise animals as carefully back then. Duoduo mainly guarded the house; as long as we fed her, she survived. But after that incident, neither your father nor I wanted to keep pets anymore—it was too painful.”

Yu Zhimei bit her lip: “Mom, I miss you.”

Her mother seemed to pause for a few seconds: “Did something happen? You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?”

“Just feeling sad because of my friend’s lost cat.”

“Having cats and dogs is like that—they’ll leave one way or another someday, just like people. I don’t fully understand treating a cat like a child, but I do get how lonely it must be for you in the big city. If you really miss me, come home for a few days. Worst case, come back for good.”

If this kept up, she’d end up spilling everything. Yu Zhimei hurriedly ended the call. The room fell silent, but her heartbeat and breathing felt deafening. She refused to cry.