SC - 42

Under these circumstances, Chen Yang found himself thinking that Liang Qian wasn’t entirely useless after all.

Le Ya had been meowing into the bushes for a while before finally spotting a milk-colored kitten in the corner near the wall. Its eyes were barely open, and it was trembling from the cold. She had never owned a cat, but even so, she felt pity for the poor thing.

The kitten opened its eyes slightly and let out another weak meow when it saw her.

Le Ya’s heart melted at the sound, and she instinctively reached out to pick it up.

Chen Yang grabbed her hand. “Don’t touch it.”

Le Ya paused, confused. “Why are you stopping me?”

Chen Yang pointed to her clothes. “First of all, you’re wearing white. Second, we don’t know if this cat has parasites. It’s better to wrap it in a towel than to hold it with your bare hands.”

He didn’t like cats—he had been scratched by one before.

Le Ya considered his words for a moment and said, “Then you stay here and watch it while I go find something to wrap it in. Don’t scare it away.”

Chen Yang asked incredulously, “...Am I really that scary?”

Le Ya chuckled. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant the kitten is small.”

Without waiting for him to respond, she dashed back into the auditorium.

As her figure disappeared, Chen Yang crouched down to examine the kitten. Sensing movement, the kitten looked up and meowed softly twice.

He reached out and gently scratched under its chin.

When Le Ya returned, the scene she saw was Chen Yang squatting there, his finger lightly touching the kitten’s nose. The distant streetlight cast a soft glow on him, outlining his silhouette with warmth.

A sudden thought struck her, and she quickly pulled out her phone to snap a picture, saving it without hesitation. As she approached, she unconsciously lightened her footsteps.

Chen Yang, sharp as ever, heard the sound and turned his head. Seeing her tiptoeing, he asked, “What are you doing?”

Le Ya ran over. “Nothing.”

The cardboard box was lined with an old towel. Chen Yang watched as she carefully placed the kitten inside. Its tiny paws brushed against her wrist and the back of her hand.

He felt a pang of envy.

If he tried to do the same, the kitten would probably shy away immediately. Chen Yang exhaled deeply, feeling a surge of frustration building up inside him.

Le Ya patted the box gently. “Do you still have any of that powdered milk left?”

Chen Yang was momentarily confused. “What?”

Le Ya hesitated, a little embarrassed. “I mean, the powdered milk I gave you earlier... Do you still have some?”

Chen Yang replied, “It’s not in the classroom.”

He certainly didn’t brew powdered milk in the classroom every day. Not only would Liang Qian and the others tease him endlessly, but he’d also have to wash the cup afterward.

Le Ya wrinkled her nose slightly, looking disappointed.

Chen Yang understood her implication and couldn’t help but chuckle. “You can’t feed a cat human baby formula.”

Le Ya’s eyes widened in surprise.

Chen Yang stood up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Stay here. I’ll go check if the supermarket outside has goat milk powder.”

Before Le Ya could respond, he was already gone.

Watching his tall figure disappear into the darkness, she felt a strange sensation that she couldn’t quite put into words.

She lowered her head to play with the kitten, contemplating what to do next.

If the kitten had been abandoned, she would take it home and care for it. Now that she had found it, she couldn’t possibly leave it here.

Her family didn’t have any pets, so adopting a cat wouldn’t be a problem.

Ten minutes later, Chen Yang returned, carrying a bag. He took out the items inside and went to the washroom in the auditorium to fetch water. “This syringe is borrowed from the infirmary.”

Le Ya couldn’t help but praise him. “You’ve prepared everything so thoroughly!”

Chen Yang raised an eyebrow lazily. “Since you’re determined to save it, I’m not going to let it die.”

Le Ya’s heart skipped a beat at his words.

Chen Yang didn’t notice her reaction and proceeded to feed the kitten, though his movements were clumsy and awkward.

His palm was more than twice the size of the kitten’s body.

Le Ya helped him, and this time, she didn’t shy away when their fingertips touched. Together, they managed to feed the kitten a little food.

The kitten was clearly starving.

After eating, it curled up inside the box and fell asleep. Le Ya leaned over to watch it. “I’ll bring it to the classroom later and then take it home tonight.”

Chen Yang chuckled softly. “Give it to me.”

Le Ya blinked. “Huh? You want it?”

Chen Yang lowered his gaze to her. “Are you unwilling to give it to me? Or would you rather take it to the classroom yourself?”

Le Ya shook her head.

She didn’t mean it that way—it was just that earlier, Chen Yang had seemed uninterested in the kitten, so she assumed he didn’t care for it.

Chen Yang took the box from her hands. “Leave it with me for now. After school ends tonight, come over and pick it up.”

Seeing that he was serious, Le Ya nodded. “Alright.”

The two of them didn’t return to the auditorium and instead headed straight to the teaching building. With no students around, the area was pitch black.

Le Ya stayed close to Chen Yang, not daring to stray even for a moment.

Fortunately, the stairwell had motion-activated lights, which guided them all the way to Class Seventeen. Chen Yang pushed the door open. “Come in.”

This was Le Ya’s first time entering someone else’s classroom.

The seating arrangement and bulletin board were different from Class One’s, but otherwise, it didn’t seem too dissimilar.

Chen Yang turned to her. “Not coming?”

Le Ya snapped out of her thoughts. “Coming.”

Chen Yang’s seat was at the very back. He had already turned on the light at the rear of the room and placed the cardboard box on the desk, next to the books piled on another student’s table.

At first glance, the books appeared brand new.

“There’s half an hour left until the party ends,” Chen Yang murmured as he tidied up a bit, then pulled out a chair. “Sit.”

Le Ya obediently sat down.

Though they didn’t exchange many words, sitting alone together made the atmosphere feel oddly intimate. To distract herself, she focused on playing with the kitten.

It wasn’t until the party ended that she finally left.

When she returned to her classroom, she was inevitably bombarded with questions from Xie Qingyu.

Xie Qingyu frowned. “Yue Ya, seriously… I thought something happened to you! Why didn’t you message me?”

Le Ya felt a pang of guilt. “I forgot...”

Xie Qingyu waved it off, deciding not to press the matter. “Never mind that. Did you feel unwell or something? That’s why you came back early?”

Le Ya hesitated, then moved her hands slightly. “Maybe my stomach was upset, so I came back early. But I’m fine now.”

Xie Qingyu didn’t suspect anything. “It’s fine as long as you’re okay now.”

Le Ya quietly let out a breath of relief.

After the party ended, all the students returned to their classrooms to continue evening self-study.

There were still twenty minutes before dismissal, and the homeroom teachers weren’t about to let the students leave early. Every minute counted.

When Liang Qian and the others returned to find Chen Yang alone in the classroom, it wasn’t surprising. What caught their attention was the cardboard box on the desk.

The two of them leaned over to take a look. “A cat?”

Chen Yang slapped away Liang Qian’s hand and said sternly, “Don’t touch it.”

Liang Qian winced, clutching his hand, and exclaimed, “It’s just a cat! Why are you being so protective, Yang-ge? Touching it won’t hurt anything.”

Despite his words, he didn’t dare touch it again.

At that moment, their homeroom teacher Zhou Mingchun entered the room. “Hurry up and start your evening self-study. Twenty minutes is enough for you to solve several problems.”

The classroom finally quieted down.

Of course, Zhou Mingchun wasn’t reading or paying attention—he was sitting at the front playing with his phone, occasionally strolling around the room. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

With ten minutes left until class ended, he got up to walk around again.

“Meow...”

As he passed by the back rows, Zhou Mingchun thought he heard the sound of a cat meowing. He froze in his tracks, certain he hadn’t misheard. The sound had been faint but clear in the otherwise silent classroom, though it quickly disappeared.

Zhou Mingchun assumed he’d imagined it, shook his head, and was about to move on when another meow reached his ears.

This time, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Who’s making cat sounds?”

The classroom fell silent for a full minute before someone laughed nervously. “Teacher, did you hear wrong? Who would imitate a cat?”

“It must’ve been a mistake.”

“Someone’s probably playing with their phone.”

Amidst the chatter, Zhou Mingchun frowned and commanded, “Quiet.”

Almost immediately after his words, the kitten meowed twice more—loud and clear this time. Everyone heard it, and their gazes instinctively shifted toward the source.

Then they saw the corner near the back door.

On Chen Yang’s desk sat a cardboard box, slightly larger than a tablet. Chen Yang himself remained calm, continuing to write on his test paper as if nothing unusual was happening.

Zhou Mingchun: “...”

So this was what he’d been asking about all along.

Earlier, the box had been obscured by Liang Qian and others, as well as a thick stack of books, so he hadn’t noticed it. Now, it was clearly visible.

Zhou Mingchun said, “Chen Yang, what’s this… thing on your desk?”

Upon hearing this, Chen Yang looked up and replied indifferently, “Oh, I found it on the way here. It looked like it might die, so I brought it to the classroom.”

The surrounding students were stunned.

Everyone knew Chen Yang was indifferent and uninterested in most things, let alone cats. In the past, girls who tried using kittens to attract his attention had been completely ignored—or worse, he’d outright stated he disliked cats.

And now, here he was rescuing one…

Zhou Mingchun chuckled warmly. “Well, aren’t you full of compassion today. It’s fine; just take it home tonight. Don’t keep it at school.”

Chen Yang hummed in acknowledgment.

Once their teacher left, the nearby classmates couldn’t help but sigh. “Sigh, it’s always the good students who get away with things. We wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Chen Yang ignored their comments entirely.

________________________________________

Ten minutes later, the bell rang for dismissal.

The air conditioning in the classroom was turned off, and the students shivered from the cold. Liang Qian stood up. “Yang-ge, aren’t you leaving yet?”

Chen Yang gave a noncommittal hum, saying nothing further.

This made Liang Qian feel like Chen Yang was acting strangely tonight. Scratching his head, he unconsciously slowed down while packing his things.

Suddenly, the classroom window was pushed open.

Le Ya appeared outside, whispering softly, “I’m here.”

Seeing her, Chen Yang reached behind him with his right hand and pulled the back door open slightly. “Come in.”

Le Ya glanced inside the classroom, feeling a bit uneasy. Unlike earlier when no one had been around, this time many pairs of eyes were watching her.

She whispered, “Let me grab it and go.”

Chen Yang asked, “You’re not coming in?”

Liang Qian, observing the scene, grinned and teased, “Just come in already. We’re not going to eat you. We’ll all be gone soon anyway.”

After some hesitation, Le Ya slowly walked in.

Some students in the front rows were still studying, but only a few remained in the back. One side of the lights had been turned off, casting the area into a dim glow.

A boy in the middle row couldn’t resist asking, “Who’s that?”

Liang Qian snapped, “What’s there to ask?”

Le Ya glanced at them briefly before leaning over to examine the cardboard box. She reached out to gently stroke the little kitten’s face, petting it happily.

Seeing her bold actions, Liang Qian couldn’t help but marvel. Just earlier, he’d been scolded and slapped away for trying to touch it, and Chen Yang had been so harsh.

Le Ya asked, “Was it hungry later?”

Chen Yang replied, “I fed it.”

At this, Liang Qian suddenly remembered how Chen Yang had been fiddling with something during class. He hadn’t bothered to check earlier, but now it clicked—Chen Yang had been feeding the kitten.

Didn’t he hate cats?

Liang Qian clicked his tongue, patted Zhao Mingri, and winked at the others. “Yang-ge, we’re heading out first.”

In the blink of an eye, the classroom was empty except for two people.

As they passed by the window, Le Ya distinctly heard someone say, “That cat isn’t Yang-ge’s—it belongs to his girlfriend.”

Another voice chimed in, “Yang-ge doesn’t hate cats; he hates other people. Look how he’s kept it all day.”

Her face flushed red, and she stole a glance at Chen Yang, assuming he hadn’t heard.

Le Ya stopped dawdling and quickly picked up the cardboard box, but unexpectedly, Chen Yang blocked her with his hand.

“Wait.”

He had already stood up, towering over her. As she lowered her head, her delicate, pale neck was exposed—slender and beautiful, tempting to touch.

Chen Yang let out a soft sigh.

It sounded pleasant, almost ticklish to the ears. Le Ya looked up at him, confused. “What is it?”

Chen Yang pointed to the box.

“Are you keeping it?” Le Ya assumed he wanted it and didn’t think much of it. “Will your family agree?”

Chen Yang raised an eyebrow. “I’m not keeping it.”

As for his family, he could decide that himself.

Le Ya set the box down and asked, “Have you ever kept a cat before?”

Chen Yang replied, “No.”

He hadn’t in the past, nor now—but in the future, he did want one. For example, the girl who had learned to mimic a cat’s meow.

Under his intense gaze, Le Ya felt her back prickle. Lowering her head, she focused on the kitten and said, “Stretch your hand over. It’s so cute.”

Chen Yang followed her instructions, extending his right hand.

Without thinking too much, Le Ya grabbed his hand and guided it toward the box. The tiny kitten latched onto the tip of his index finger—not painfully, but with a wet, soft sensation.

Chen Yang wiggled his finger, and the kitten’s head followed the movement.

He furrowed his brow slightly but, seeing the girl peeking intently at the edge of the box, decided not to pull his finger out.

After watching for a while, Le Ya let out a soft, envious whine. “The kitten didn’t lick me even though I reached out earlier!”

It was so unfair.

Pouting, she played with the kitten for a few more moments before deciding it was time to leave. Once she took it home, the kitten would belong solely to her.

Sighing softly, she placed her hand on the box and murmured, “It’s really late. I should head home.”

Chen Yang narrowed his eyes. “So you’re abandoning me once you’ve crossed the bridge?”

Le Ya protested, “I’m not abandoning anyone.”

Chen Yang withdrew his finger, wiped off the kitten’s saliva with a tissue, and turned to look at her. “Then do a cat meow for me. Let me hear it.”