12
He sat down, placed the orange cat aside, and looked up to see Ruan Yu sliding over the manuscript materials while stealing glances at his hand.
The cat was lying on its back, twisting and turning with its belly exposed.
The furry tail tip brushed against the back of his hand, tickling him and somewhat interfering with his work.
He moved the cat a little farther away, lowered his gaze to the documents, and said, "A few questions..." Then he paused.
Because Ruan Yu didn’t seem to be listening. She kept staring at the corner of the table, even leaning forward at a sixty-degree angle, as if she were about to come right through the screen.
But the camera angle was limited—no matter how close she got, she could only see a cat’s ear at most.
Xu Huaisong cleared his throat softly.
Only then did she snap back to attention, straightening up. "Ah, Lawyer Xu, go ahead."
"Chapter 14, third paragraph."
Ruan Yu flipped to the corresponding section and found it was a description about a cat—specifically, the female lead passing by an art gallery and seeing the male lead feeding a stray cat in the grass.
To add a "romantic touch," she had adapted this part from reality, portraying the male lead as someone who didn’t actually like cats but only pretended to because the female lead did.
"I don’t like cats. I like you." This inner monologue was word-for-word identical to the one in "The Poet’s" version.
Stumped by this similarity, Ruan Yu had racked her brain but couldn’t find a way to refute it.
Seeing that Xu Huaisong was strictly professional, showing no sign of recognition, she asked with relief, "What do you think?"
He nodded. "There’s a subtle difference. The psychology you’ve crafted is 'love me, love my cat,' but the other version isn’t."
"Huh?"
Ruan Yu froze, then flipped open another stack of documents and reread the relevant passage twice before suddenly realizing.
In "The Poet’s" version, the male lead didn’t actually grow to like cats—he had calculated in advance that the female lead would pass by the art gallery and deliberately staged the scene to win her favor.
However, "The Poet" had described this truth very subtly, and Ruan Yu, already influenced by her own preconceptions, had failed to see it clearly.
Objectively speaking, although the outline was her original work, "The Poet’s" adaptation actually added more tension to the character dynamics.
She made a note of this point as a rebuttal reference, then asked, "Anything else?"
"Chapter 3, seventh paragraph."
Ruan Yu flipped back and found the corresponding section—a scene where the female lead rejected an unwanted suitor.
Because of Ruan’s father’s influence, she had been somewhat well-known in Xu Huaisong’s class back then. A boy from Class 10 had pursued her relentlessly.
He was the type who neglected his studies, earning himself the nickname "Domineering CEO" from the girls—a childish "Dao Ming Si" archetype. His immature antics were endless, and once, he had loudly proclaimed in class that she was his.
Harassed beyond endurance, Ruan Yu had been furious and anxious when she heard about it, even bursting into tears. For once, she had mustered her courage and stood outside Class 10, publicly rejecting him with a fierce outburst. She told him to stop pestering her and disrupting her studies, ending with, "So what if you’re Dao Ming Si? The one I like is Hua Ze Lei!"
The boy had been stunned into silence, while the entire class erupted in laughter.
This scene might seem like a side plot, but in Ruan Yu’s setting, it was far from insignificant.
Aside from his inherent personality traits, the male lead’s hesitation to confess to the female lead stemmed from this very incident.
"Because I like you, I won’t disturb you." —This was the reason Ruan Yu had fabricated for him.She looked up and asked, "What's wrong with this part?"
She remembered there was no issue of overlapping plots here. The "poet" hadn't written a similar scene but had taken a different approach after reading her detailed outline—extending it to the male lead remembering the female lead's words and subsequently molding himself into a "Hanazawa Rui" type.
Xu Huaisong blinked. "It's illogical."
"Illogical?"
"This reasoning isn't convincing enough."
"Then why else wouldn’t he confess?"
Ruan Yu blurted out the question but immediately choked on her own words. What was she doing, discussing how to write a novel with a lawyer? And hadn’t they gone off-topic?
Xu Huaisong lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable, and casually picked up the thermos coffee mug beside him to take a sip.
But he forgot about the cat nearby. The moment he lifted the cup, the little orange cat swiped at it with its paw, trying to snatch a bite, jostling his hand and causing coffee to spill all over its backside.
The cat let out a loud "meow," and Ruan Yu exclaimed, "Oh no!"
The previously tense atmosphere instantly dissipated. The overlapping sounds left Xu Huaisong momentarily stunned before he could react. Then he heard Ruan Yu ask, "Is the coffee hot? Hurry and wipe it off!"
He glanced down at his own hand.
He had been splashed too—couldn’t she see that?
Xu Huaisong shot her a look and said, "It’s not hot," then grabbed a tissue to wipe his hand before picking up the mewling cat to clean it.
Ruan Yu quickly stopped him. "Use a wet wipe! The dry one’s too rough."
He gave her another look but had no choice but to turn and search for a wet wipe.
Even after wiping, the cat’s fur remained sticky.
Seeing that it wouldn’t clean itself, Ruan Yu asked, "How old is it? Can it take a bath yet?"
"About three months."
"Then give it a wash. We can talk about the case later."
Xu Huaisong sighed inwardly, picked up the cat, and started walking out—only to pause halfway and turn back. "How?"
"Isn’t this your cat?"
He shook his head.
Then whose cat was it?
Ruan Yu was momentarily dazed when he repeated the question: "How do I wash it?"
How was she supposed to explain? After a moment’s thought, she asked, "Do you have cat shampoo, an absorbent towel, a cat brush, and a hairdryer?"
Xu Huaisong nodded.
"Oh, and Frontline too."
"Mm."
"Then get everything ready. You can use a basin or the bathtub. The water should be between 35 to 40 degrees Celsius. Make sure—"
Before she could finish, Xu Huaisong set the cat down and walked toward his computer. "Wait." Then he picked up the laptop and headed straight for the bathroom.
The camera suddenly swayed.
Ruan Yu inwardly gasped.
What kind of sudden "girlfriend perspective" nonsense was this?
Xu Huaisong placed the laptop on the bathroom counter, turned, and walked away without a word, leaving Ruan Yu calling after him, "Hey, you—" Don’t leave!
The camera was now directly facing his wide-open shower stall—this was way too awkward.
After a long wait, Xu Huaisong finally returned with the cat and a pile of supplies.
In the cramped space, the atmosphere suddenly turned a little strange, as if the thin screen between them had disappeared and they were standing together in the bathroom.
Ruan Yu cleared her throat. "First, adjust the water temperature."
Xu Huaisong set the cat aside, pressed the shower’s temperature controls a few times, then removed the showerhead to test the water.
"Don’t spray it directly with the showerhead later. Fill the basin with water, but don’t let it go past the cat’s neck," Ruan Yu continued, watching his crouched figure from behind.Xu Huaisong followed each instruction carefully, but the kitten, barely three months old, wasn't used to baths and tried to leap out the moment it touched the water, splashing a wave everywhere.
His shirt was soon soaked through.
"Hold its neck with your left hand," Ruan Yu quickly instructed, then added, "Don't grip too hard."
"And then?" Xu Huaisong asked, turning his head while keeping his dripping right hand steady.
"Wet the fur below its neck, apply shampoo, and gently lather."
He continued as told, but when applying the shampoo, his left hand loosened—perhaps from slipping.
Of course, the kitten struggled again, sending another splash of water onto his clothes.
Through his drenched white shirt, Ruan Yu could almost make out the faint outline of his abs.
"..." She hastily averted her gaze.
Xu Huaisong glanced at her, then turned back, the corner of his lips curling in a faint smirk where she couldn’t see. He focused on scrubbing the kitten until all the suds were rinsed away before announcing, "Done."
Ruan Yu looked back, her eyes landing on the top of his head. "Dry it with an absorbent towel. Use warm air on the blow-dryer, keep it at a distance first, and set it to the lowest speed so you don’t scare it."
Xu Huaisong stood up, placed the kitten on the vanity, and started blow-drying it.
From that angle, the camera only captured his hands—slender and well-defined.
Under the soft yellow bathroom light, the sight of him gently stroking the kitten seemed bathed in a warm glow, softening hearts effortlessly.
Ruan Yu’s thoughts drifted, as if transported back to the domed art gallery long ago, to that patch of rain-fresh grass where there had also been a kitten and a pair of hands.
The scene unfolded like a masterfully crafted long take in a film.
The seamless shift in time and space amplified the emotions—nostalgia for what had passed and regret for what had changed.
The orange kitten purred contentedly. Ruan Yu snapped out of her reverie, realizing its fur was nearly dry.
Once the kitten was carried out, Xu Huaisong returned and, without hesitation, tugged at his shirt and began undoing the buttons from the bottom up.
Ruan Yu: "?"
By the third button, she finally reacted, shouting in protest, "L-Lawyer Xu! I’m still here!"
Xu Huaisong paused, glanced at the screen, and replied calmly, "Oh, forgot." Noticing her flustered expression, he added, "I need to shower."
"Then move me—I mean, move the computer out first!"
He looked puzzled. "Can’t you just end the call?"
"..."
Fair point. Ruan Yu didn’t even have time for a "goodbye" before frantically clicking to disconnect. She sat at her desk, gulping water to steady herself.
Fifteen minutes later, a WeChat message popped up.
Sisi: Senior, if it’s convenient, can we meet now?
Staring at her phone, Ruan Yu’s temporarily depleted IQ from the earlier encounter with Xu Huaisong swiftly recovered.
This sudden urgency—Cen Sisi must have realized she’d been recorded, hadn’t she?
Xu Huaisong had mentioned that such things rarely stayed hidden for long; people usually figured it out afterward. But since the recording was already secured, it didn’t matter anymore.
Too weary to engage with her further, Ruan Yu replied bluntly: Not convenient. We’ll see each other in court.
After sending it, she blocked her immediately.
Within minutes, an enraged text from Cen Sisi, who had clearly pieced things together, arrived: Using such underhanded tactics—aren’t you afraid your fans will find out? Fine, let’s see who plays dirtier.
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