The Kitten

"Does something feel off here?" Ye Shuang's lips twitched. "Shouldn't two be 30? What kind of combo deal is this? And you're charging extra?!"

"Uncle, that’s not how you should look at it," An Shiyu replied lazily. "As the saying goes, 'New customers get half-ripped; regulars get the full package.' Opening a business means milking your regulars to make real profits."

"Just give me one, no combo."

"Cheapskate."

Ye Shuang was already used to An Shiyu’s sharp tongue and even found it amusing, though he couldn’t fathom how she managed to juggle so many odd jobs.

"Are you working part-time? Why do you do so many things?"

"As a high-level ninja, mastering various skills is a must," An Shiyu said without looking up, pressing down on the grilling squid.

"You still remember that backstory?!"

At that moment, An Shiyu noticed Bai Yuyou standing beside Ye Shuang—or more precisely, her gaze landed on Bai Yuyou’s arm looped through his.

"Oh, it’s you," An Shiyu said, looking at Bai Yuyou.

"You two know each other?" Ye Shuang suddenly recalled that both attended Yinshan Academy, were third-years, and were in Class A and B respectively. It wouldn’t be strange if they were acquainted.

"Nope," An Shiyu said. Bai Yuyou also shook her head.

Ye Shuang: "..."

Then why the hell did you say "Oh"?

Soon, the grilled squid was ready.

"Over here, scan the code."

"Done." As Ye Shuang put his phone away, An Shiyu handed him another skewer. "Here."

"I only ordered one."

"This one’s on me," An Shiyu said.

Ye Shuang was surprised. "This generous? Aren’t you afraid of losing money?"

"This stuff probably costs pennies to stock," An Shiyu stretched lazily before adding, "Besides, it’s not my stall. Couldn’t care less."

Ye Shuang: "..."

"Not your stall? What do you mean?"

"Duh." An Shiyu suddenly gave him a deadpan look and pointed at the stall’s sign. "'Xu Fatty’s Grilled Squid.' Do I look like a fatty to you?"

An Shiyu’s slender figure had absolutely nothing in common with the word "fatty."

"Then why the hell are you grilling squid here?!"

"Because it’s fun. The owner’s probably stuck in the bathroom," An Shiyu said nonchalantly. "But don’t worry, mine tastes way better."

Ye Shuang suddenly remembered her previous gigs selling phones and buns and stared at her incredulously. "Then those times before…"

An Shiyu’s eyes curved into crescents. "Guess."

"Alright, see ya." Without waiting for his reaction, the girl waved and vanished into the crowd.

Ye Shuang glanced at the squid in his hand, then at Bai Yuyou beside him, nibbling at her skewer like a little hamster.

This girl…

Still, he silently scanned the stall’s payment code again and paid extra before continuing to stroll with Bai Yuyou.

After eating their way through the street, Ye Shuang realized Bai Yuyou’s appetite was far bigger than he’d imagined. Despite having already eaten dinner, she sampled everything from the food stalls.

Especially when she polished off an entire roasted pork knuckle—Ye Shuang half-wondered if her stomach had a secret fourth-dimensional pocket.

"How on earth did you fit all that?" Ye Shuang eyed Bai Yuyou’s still-flat stomach, almost doubting his own eyes.

Noticing his gaze, Bai Yuyou tugged her shirt up, revealing her smooth abdomen and belly button.

"Idiot, you can’t just lift your clothes like that!" Ye Shuang lightly chopped her head with his hand.

By the time they finished buying daily necessities, it was almost nine. Time to head back, shower, and rest.

Back at their apartment building, just as Ye Shuang pulled out his keys to unlock the door, Bai Yuyou suddenly walked toward a shadowy corner and crouched down, as if she’d spotted something.

"What’s wrong?" Ye Shuang asked.

He approached and saw something faintly moving in the darkness. At first, he thought it might be a rat, but when he turned on his phone’s flashlight, his expression froze.

A kitten—smaller than a palm—was tangled in wire, its tiny body covered in wounds, some clearly from cigarette burns. Even worse, toothpicks were embedded in its belly.

The kitten was too weak to even mewl, trembling silently.

"This cat… probably can’t be saved," Ye Shuang said. He could tell it was far too young, and kittens were fragile to begin with. The toothpick wounds had already festered.

"But why…?" Bai Yuyou turned to him.

In her worldview, she couldn’t comprehend why the kitten had ended up like this.

"Someone did this on purpose," Ye Shuang said.

"Why would they?"

Ye Shuang hesitated before explaining, "Some people in society, powerless to change their own misery, redirect their anger onto weaker creatures. They find a twisted satisfaction in hurting animals to compensate for their own inadequacy. Others, desperate for attention, resort to cruelty for shock value, craving validation."

Bai Yuyou lowered her eyes and suddenly asked, "So… am I the same as this kitten?"

Ye Shuang opened his mouth, then sighed. "Some people just enjoy deriving pleasure from others’ suffering. At their core, they’re no different."

Bai Yuyou fell silent, her gaze downcast, lost in thought.

Watching the kitten’s fading breaths, she whispered, "Can… we save it?"

"It’s barely clinging to life. Are you sure?" Ye Shuang asked.

"I don’t fully understand these things… but I think it would want someone to help," Bai Yuyou said.

Ye Shuang realized then that Bai Yuyou saw herself in the kitten.

That line—it would want someone to help—was likely something she’d once wished for herself.

In her loneliest moments, she might have hoped for a helping hand, even though none ever came. Yet despite everything, she still chose kindness.

That rainy night, when she handed him that pack of instant noodles, Ye Shuang had already known—Bai Yuyou was inherently good, a gem buried in filth yet still glowing faintly.

No one had helped her, yet she couldn’t bear to see others suffer.

The world is broken, but there are always those who try to mend it.

Ye Shuang stepped forward, bent down, and pried open the wires binding the kitten.

"Let’s go. There’s a vet nearby." He cradled the tiny creature in his hands.

His smile, in that moment, etched itself into Bai Yuyou’s memory like an indelible mark.