At 7:59, Nan Zhi changed into her clothes and shoes, locked the locker, and after everything was ready, appeared at the hospital on time. Handover was at 8 o’clock, so she wasn’t late. After carefully completing the shift handover with her colleague, she huddled in a corner with her teacher to eat, only then had time to recall the morning.
She didn’t hug Song Qing—of course, it was on purpose.
Actually, she had planned to hug him, but just after hugging the cat and walking over to his side, she saw him raising his hand early in the morning, a posture like he was waiting to be hugged. Suddenly, a mischievous thought rose in her heart—wanted to see what reaction he’d have if she didn’t hug him.
He was really dumb, dazedly holding his hand up for a long while. Before Nan Zhi left, she could still see his situation through the door gap that was about to close. Only then did he lower his hand, belatedly showing a puzzled and confused expression.
So slow to react.
A face that didn’t look very smart.
But so cute.
If boys are too smart, they’re hard to trick. Might even turn around and coax her instead, and scheme for her money and property. So he being like this was just right—easy to lure away and easy to bully.
While thinking this, Nan Zhi sorrowfully shared her fruit with her teacher. It was an apple, steamed until thoroughly cooked, the surface also wiped very clean, even wrapped in plastic wrap for heat preservation—this was what Song Qing shoved into her arms before she left.
Yesterday, it was two bananas that had been heated. They hadn’t turned black, and were at just the right degree of warmness. The main thing was she didn’t have to mess around herself.
There was everything at home, but why didn’t she bring it before? Because eating cold things would cause diarrhea, and heating it up was too troublesome—so Song Qing was really like delivering charcoal in the snow.
After eating and drinking, there was even after-meal fruit. Breakfast had changed from two small bread rolls and milk into something so plentiful. Her teacher witnessed it with her own eyes and started leeching off her every day.
Yesterday, one of the bananas got leeched. Today, half the apple was also leeched.
Nan Zhi had just wanted to say this couldn’t be split, when smack—it was already broken in half by her teacher, one half each, perfectly divided.
Nan Zhi held her half, tears flowing inside as she denounced her in her heart.
You don’t have a wife to prepare stuff for you.
Every day you’re leeching off what my wife prepared for me.
Oh, right—you really don’t have a wife, only I do.
Then it’s fine. Who told me to have a wife anyway.
Nan Zhi happily finished gnawing that half apple, and under the envious gaze of her teacher, also finished eating and drinking her light meal and milk, going out full to do ward rounds.
—
Around 8:30, Song Qing had already finished eating. He gathered the bowls and chopsticks together, placed them into the dishwasher along with yesterday’s dishes, slotted the special combo detergent tablet into the groove. While closing the door and turning on the machine, he was still unable to figure it out.
Why hug the cat, but not hug him?
At 8:35, he was wiping the kitchen counter, cleaning while recalling.
Did I do something?
At 8:41, Song Qing washed the bowls the cats ate and drank from, cleaned the litter box, went to the cat’s nest, and turned the heating blanket down by one notch—because the daytime temperature was different from nighttime. Nighttime was colder, now it was a bit too warm.
After coming back, he still couldn’t figure it out.
I’ve been behaving well recently, didn’t do anything.
At 8:46, he grabbed the cat that had been following beside his wheelchair, and cleaned its ear mites.
Stray cats basically all have ear mites. When they first arrived, it was pretty bad, ears all black inside. He would wipe them once a day. Now they were already pink, but to avoid it not being completely cleaned, he would still clean a few more times.
After tossing around, he applied external deworming medicine on them, mainly for fleas. Stray cats also basically all have fleas—just a matter of more or less.
Even after applying the medicine, he didn’t let them go, still catching the fleas in their fur.
He had discovered them the first time he gave them a bath, so afterward, he would check once a day to see if there were any missed ones.
Because Nan Zhi would let them go on the sofa, burrow into quilts, and would also hug them.
If he didn’t catch the fleas and they bit her, she’d easily have an allergic reaction. Her constitution was weak—even just a mosquito bite would cause her to have a long-lasting allergy, not healing for a while, leaving red marks on her arms and face.
He had already caught them several times—now basically none. After checking, Song Qing let them go, letting them run off on their short little legs, alert against being caught again, but still couldn’t help circling around him.
They’d nest not too close or too far from him and call out to him. When Little Black meowed, Little White would hit it, then block it behind itself and meow on its own.
If he ignored them, they’d cry miserably and unpleasantly. But when he looked at them, the sound would be small and soft, like acting spoiled toward him.
When he couldn’t see them, their cries were howls—rather sharp and harsh. When he could see them, their cries were like little clips.
Song Qing crouched down, stretched one hand to the ground, and gave a slight summon. The two little cats couldn’t resist anymore—forgetting the torment of just now being caught and having ear mites and fleas cleaned—they came over and rubbed against him again. He grabbed them by the scruff of their necks and lifted them to his face.
Although they were stray cats, they were still small. After being washed clean and thoroughly tidied, they were like soft and glutinous little balls.
Clumsy—sometimes they would even walk in crooked lines, fall over without anyone bothering them.
Clearly looked very small, very tiny, yet strangely, could jump onto a sofa that high, and could even climb up onto his wheelchair—quite amazing.
They were a bit cute, small, and delicate.
No wonder Nan Zhi liked them.
Song Qing put down this scheming little white cat, went back to the small living room, and picked up the scarf he had finished knitting yesterday, planning to go to the little alley to exchange it for yarn balls.
As soon as his wheelchair rolled to the entrance, the two cats rushed over at top speed, trying to run out.
After all, they were formerly stray cats—used to following their cat mom wandering around outside—so whenever they got a chance, they wanted to escape. Nan Zhi had recently been thinking of solutions.
She searched online and said she’d hire someone to stand at the door in a few days. After a beating, they wouldn’t dare to run again.
Now, they still wanted to dash outside. Song Qing, being in a wheelchair, wasn’t as agile as them, so before going out each time, he would prepare some small cat chewing snack sticks in his pocket. Very small, but had weight—would make a noise when it hit the floor. He used them to pretend to throw at the cats.
After all, they were still young—scared. So he was still able to, with the help of the bathroom floorboard ramp, push himself out, and before the cats could get close, he had already closed the door and locked them in.
Song Qing rolled out while thinking—
The cats weren’t truly coming to send him off. Mainly, they wanted to run away. Similarly, the cats weren’t truly sending Nan Zhi off either—they were looking for a chance to escape.
He understood this reasoning clearly—why didn’t Nan Zhi?
Song Qing went downstairs, brought his things to the back alley exit. The old grannies across the way who used to knit scarves and do handicrafts were no longer there—it was too cold outside, their hands would freeze. They would instead make appointments to go to someone’s house, chatting while working.
Because of that matter with his uncle and aunt recently, it wasn’t convenient for him to show up too often. He hadn’t gone to look for them or wander around. He wrapped himself up tightly and went to exchange thirty or forty yarn balls, and by the way, settled the previous payment.
For this kind of work-from-home handicraft job, it was possible to be paid daily. Song Qing didn’t do daily settlements—he had to catch the boss while they were there and even had to queue up. A bit troublesome. He preferred to wait until he accumulated a decent amount before settling.
He felt it was about time now. So after getting the yarn balls today, he didn’t leave—queued up together with the others.
This small factory was opened in a residential neighborhood. Nearby, there were many idle elderly people and young folks who wanted to earn some extra money after work. Every morning, they would settle the previous day’s payment—occasionally during evening rush hours.
Usually, you couldn’t see the boss. The boss also found it troublesome and would only appear at fixed times in the morning and evening.
The small factory was up a set of stairs—Song Qing couldn’t go up. The boss saw him and called someone beside him to come over and wanted to give him cash directly. He didn’t take it. He wrote down an Alipay account and name, and after confirming with the other party, he rushed back.
He continued lining up, only this time it was to pick up deliveries.
Recently, Nan Zhi had a lot of packages. Not even going to say whether she was “hunting” or not, because she couldn’t carry it all herself. Sometimes the heavy ones, she’d even call him down. With the packages stuffed under his butt or heavily loaded in the basket underneath, she’d push him up all loaded.
So now, whenever he went out, he would bring the deliveries back along the way—including the vegetables and tissues she bought on Meituan Preferred.
After opening the door, the two cats rushed toward him, but didn’t manage to escape. After being scared off by him again, they quietly retreated. Song Qing moved the board inside to the outside, wheeled himself in, and just as he steadied himself, immediately shut the door.
The cats were still too small—not that agile yet. If Nan Zhi didn’t hire someone soon to stand by the door and beat them once, they’d be impossible to control once they grew up.
Even though the cats failed to escape, they didn’t get discouraged. Just like usual, they chased after his wheelchair from underneath. Song Qing watched carefully to avoid running over Nan Zhi’s precious treasures.
Once at the storage room beneath the stairs, he put down the packages, then went to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and put away the vegetables one by one. During this, the two cats kept trying to burrow into the plastic bags—one of them even tried to claw at the trash can.
Inside the kitchen trash can were things like melon rinds and innards—very damp. If spilled, it would be hard to clean up. As Song Qing chased the cats away, he thought:
Nan Zhi’s precious treasures only know how to make trouble—don’t know how to cook, don’t know how to clean the kitchen, and don’t know how to tidy the house.
Other than being cute, they’re just cute.
After finishing everything that needed doing, Song Qing wheeled himself to the small living room, turned on the computer, and continued verifying the parts he hadn’t tested yesterday.
His hands weren’t idle either—when he paused or was thinking, he’d knit a bit of the scarf. Earn what he could.
He was also reading the newly added books on the shelf—reading and practicing at the same time.
Computers were a new field for him. He was like a sponge entering an ocean full of knowledge, swimming in it. By the time he realized it, it was already late. The alarm he had set in advance was already ringing.
He only had alarms in the evening—because Nan Zhi didn’t come home at noon, and at night he needed to have dinner ready before she got off work.
Song Qing looked at the time on his phone and then realized—he was so engrossed he even forgot to eat lunch.
He saved his current progress, turned off the screen for now, and went to the kitchen to cook.
Basically, wherever he was, the cats were too. Even if not directly next to him, they’d be playing nearby. After a while of playing, they’d stop to observe whether he was watching them.
If he was, they’d play even harder, and couldn’t resist getting closer to him.
Song Qing let the long peel of fruit dangle down, teasing Nan Zhi’s precious treasures while thinking—
Nan Zhi must be blind.
Today, he was surprisingly full of resentment. The more he relaxed, the more he exited that deep-in-the-zone state, the more he couldn’t help but think about the morning.
It was just a few seconds—was it really about those few seconds?
Ka-cha—with a crisp sound, he cut the fruit in his hand and placed the slices on either side of the fish.
He was making steamed fish today—not because he liked it, but because Nan Zhi did.
She really liked watching related videos—definitely followed quite a few food bloggers. From time to time, there would be audio playing out loud saying, “If you cook fish like this, I guarantee you’ll want more after eating it,” and she would watch with great interest.
There were cooking method explanations, and also dish names—he could just search them up afterward.
Generally, it’s hard to cover up the fishy smell in steamed fish. This time, the blogger had thought of a really good method—steam it together with fruit. Once steamed, it would carry a fruity fragrance. Song Qing hadn’t tried it yet, but he felt that, since Nan Zhi had watched for so long, she definitely wanted to eat it, so he decided to try.
While placing the scallions and garlic, he thought with resentment in his heart:
Don’t like Nan Zhi anymore. She doesn’t like me anymore.