Chapter 23: Meeting IRL

The afternoon class was a major course, with fewer students in the room.

Unlike the morning’s public lecture, Ji Pei didn’t sit in. After greeting Jiang Xihan, she wandered to the lake to clear her head.

The stain on her camel coat was still there—she’d forgotten to change.

Seeing the dark spot, she couldn’t help thinking of Jiang Xihan’s slender, pale fingers, and then…

Her mind drifted to the dream from her nap.

Goosebumps rose on Ji Pei’s arms. She sat on a bench, phone in hand, timing the end of class.

Was her relationship with Jiang Xihan getting a bit ambiguous?

Staring at the black swans gliding on the lake, Ji Pei replayed the past few days. Was she too attentive to Jiang Xihan?

Maybe she should hire a caretaker.

Let Aunt Wang handle all three meals and hire a professional to care for Jiang Xihan—better than her.

With that, Ji Pei messaged Ye Wenzhu, asking for reliable caretaker recommendations.

Ye Wenzhu: [What’s up? You in a wheelchair too?]

Ji Pei: [Can’t you wish me well? It’s for Jiang Xihan.]

Ye Wenzhu: [Weren’t you her free caretaker? Why stop now?]

Ji Pei stared at the message, sinking into distress, sighing as she typed.

Ji Pei: [I feel like she might be into me.]

After sending it, it felt wrong. She quickly retracted it.

Biting her lip, she retyped.

Ye Wenzhu: [?]

Ye Wenzhu: [What’d you retract?]

Ji Pei: [Nothing, typo.]

Ji Pei: [I’m just tired. Better to hire a caretaker.]

That excuse sounded plausible.

Ye Wenzhu: [I’ve got someone. I’ll send you her WeChat.]

Soon, Ye Wenzhu sent the caretaker’s contact.

Ji Pei added her, chatted briefly, settled on a price, sent the address, and asked her to come at 6:00 p.m.

She opened her chat with Jiang Xihan, drafting a message to send the caretaker’s WeChat, saying she’d be busy and couldn’t care for her.

After drafting, Ji Pei didn’t send it, deciding to act first and explain if Jiang Xihan asked.

The campus had many stray cats. Sitting on the bench, Ji Pei was approached by several.

A sassy calico meowed loudly, rubbing her leg and rolling to show its fluffy belly.

Ji Pei picked it up, set it on her lap, and stroked its head.

Something clicked. She opened her bag, finding two packs of dried fish in the inner pocket, feeding one to the calico.

It was the brand Meiqiu and Xuemeiniang loved. Ji Pei bought tons, always carrying a few packs.

The calico sniffed the fish, sitting daintily on Ji Pei’s lap, eating elegantly.

The fishy smell drew more cats, even a dog.

Ji Pei opened both packs, dividing them evenly—one fish per cat, two for the dog.

Soon, five or six cats surrounded her. One bold cat jumped onto her shoulder, purring and licking her hair.

The enthusiastic cat tickled her scalp. Ji Pei tried moving to another spot, but it followed, purring on her shoulder.

An evil thought crept up: take it home?

No way. With two greedy, fight-loving cats at home, a new one might get beaten badly.

The class-ending bell rang. Ji Pei set the cat on the bench, petting its head.

“Kitty, I’m off. See you next time.”

At the teaching building, Bai Yin was already wheeling Jiang Xihan down.

Ji Pei didn’t take the wheelchair, following Bai Yin to the parking lot.

Jiang Xihan lightly touched her shoulder, brushing off cat hair, pinching a golden strand.

“Did you play with the campus strays?”

Ji Pei felt the touch, subtly shifting away.

“Yeah, they’re cute. I fed them dried fish, and they stuck to me.”

Jiang Xihan’s lips curved.

“The campus cats have numbers and names. Most are friendly, but some are feisty, scratching people. A few are on the ‘wanted list.’”

Ji Pei was shocked.

“Wanted list?”

Jiang Xihan pulled out her phone, opened a file, and showed a list of notorious cats, pointing to the chubbiest with a smile.

“Look, this is Wang Erhu, a female. Strong, bullies the weak, loves scratching. Students steer clear.”

Ji Pei was stunned, not by the cat, but that Jiang Xihan had detailed records, including blood types.

“So, Professor Jiang likes cats?”

Bai Yin laughed.

“Yep, Professor Jiang compiled these. She’s the president of our campus cat club.”

Ji Pei’s shock grew.

“President?”

She stared at Jiang Xihan, incredulous, as Bai Yin added,

“Professor Jiang funded their neutering and set up feeding stations.”

Bai Yin continued,

“Don’t let Wang Erhu’s fierceness fool you. Outside, she’s a terror; with Professor Jiang, she’s a sweet, chirpy kitten.”

Ji Pei hadn’t expected this side of Jiang Xihan, boosting her fondness for her.

***

Ji Pei drove Jiang Xihan home.

They didn’t speak the whole way. Ji Pei felt awkward, not daring to play the car stereo.

Before leaving, she said, “Rest well,” grabbed her keys, and left the villa.

Driving back, Ji Pei’s mind wandered.

She wanted music to ease her turmoil, but after a fast song, “Ordinary Friends” played again.

Ji Pei: “…”

She pulled over, deleted the song from her playlist.

Scenes from recent days replayed in her mind, details becoming clearer.

Could Jiang Xihan really be into her?

Or was it her imagination, overthinking?

But if she wasn’t, why those misleading actions?

Ji Pei took a deep breath, deciding to keep her distance from Jiang Xihan, just in case it was true.

***

Jiang Xihan returned to her bedroom, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring at falling maple leaves.

Ji Pei’s behavior was off today, likely realizing something, hence the sudden distance.

The doorbell rang. Aunt Wang opened it to a young woman in blue, with a badge, likely a caretaker.

“Hello, is this Ms. Ji Pei’s home? I’m the caretaker she hired.”

Jiang Xihan, on the sofa, adjusted her glasses, eyes narrowing at the screen.

Her WeChat pinged twice. It was Ji Pei.

Ji Pei: [Professor Jiang, I’m busy these days, so I hired a new caretaker. She should be there now.]

Ji Pei: [She’s quite skilled. Don’t worry, Professor Jiang.]

Jiang Xihan stared at the messages, a flicker of loss in her eyes.

The caretaker introduced herself, but Jiang Xihan said she’d call when needed, dismissing her to her tasks.

Closing her laptop, Jiang Xihan shut her eyes, Ji Pei’s evasive actions and expressions flashing through her mind.

Ji Pei wanted to draw a clear line, avoiding even slight physical contact.

Jiang Xihan felt joy and sorrow, a mix of itching and unease intertwining.

Today was the 31st. Tomorrow was early November.

She’d told Jifeng she’d meet her next month if she had time.

Jiang Xihan opened Fenbei, clicking Jifeng’s profile.

The avatar was new, a couple’s set from somewhere—two cats, hers with a pink bow, Ji Pei’s with twin braids, clearly a matching pair.

Jiang Xihan typed, edited, and deleted for nearly five minutes, a trace of distress in her eyes, before finalizing.

Dongri: [Free tomorrow? I want to meet you.]