Sunday afternoon, before Liu Qianxiu left for Wen City, he’d brought the cats to Huai Jing’s home. Five days apart, the three kittens had grown noticeably bigger. Even before Xu Xingkong opened the door, their tiny baby meows could already be heard.
At the sound of the door, Zhou Yi lifted his head too. Seeing Liu Qianxiu, the black cat hopped down from the climbing frame and landed lightly at his feet, meowing once.
Liu Qianxiu bent and stroked Zhou Yi. Beside him, Xu Xingkong gathered the kittens’ supplies and said, “Stay for dinner. Eat before you go. Huai Jing was joking.”
Liu Qianxiu was about to refuse after settling Zhou Yi into the carrier when a woman’s voice rang outside.
“Liu Qianxiu!”
Huai Jing and Xu Xingkong both looked toward the door. Liu Qianxiu placed the three kittens into another carrier, lifted it, and said, “No need.”
Mu Wan had just woken up and realised Liu Qianxiu was gone from the car. The car was parked in front of a standalone villa. She called him, only to find his phone was still in the car. Panic spiked. She jumped out and shouted toward the villa.
A moment later, Liu Qianxiu came out, a cat carrier in his hand. He glanced at her, expression calm.
The seaside sun was bright. The wind was soft. Mu Wan looked at his face, and the chaos in her chest settled instantly, like dust falling.
But Liu Qianxiu wasn’t alone.
Behind him stood a woman—quiet and gentle, someone who would never shout outside someone else’s front door.
Mu Wan’s face warmed with delayed embarrassment.
Xu Xingkong walked Liu Qianxiu to the car and politely looked Mu Wan over. Mu Wan’s looks struck her. Black hair, dark eyes, a pale, palm-sized face, lips red like a dab of honey. On her right cheek was a small sleep-mark blush, giving her glamour a soft, slightly cute edge.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Mu Wan asked Liu Qianxiu first, in a low voice. Then she turned and smiled at Xu Xingkong. “Hello, I’m Mu Wan.”
“Hello. I’m Xu Xingkong.” After introducing herself, Xu Xingkong explained, “My husband’s on a call, so he didn’t come out.”
“Oh.” Mu Wan understood what she meant. She glanced at Liu Qianxiu and said, “He told me. Thank you for helping us take care of the cats.”
“Ah.” Xu Xingkong seemed to remember something. She turned to Liu Qianxiu. “There’s a small bag you forgot. Wait a moment.”
She hurried back inside. When she returned, she carried a small backpack. She also handed Mu Wan a washed plum, cool and red.
“I just bought them. It’s sweet,” Xu Xingkong said with a smile.
The car pulled away and soon merged onto the coastal road. It was almost six. Clouds covered the sky so thickly that even the sunlight looked veiled.
Mu Wan sat in the passenger seat holding the plum Xu Xingkong had given her. The fruit was icy, skin glossy and red, sweet-looking.
Mu Wan thought again of Xu Xingkong. The woman felt comfortable in a way that was hard to name—like a breeze brushing past, carrying a faint lavender scent.
Mu Wan glanced at Liu Qianxiu and said, “Your friends are really good.”
She hadn’t met Huai Jing properly, but just from Xu Xingkong, she could tell. Xu Xingkong was gentle. The way her eyes smiled when she mentioned her husband was impossible to hide. The man who could make a woman like that happy—and also be Liu Qianxiu’s friend—had to be a good person.
“Mm.” Liu Qianxiu kept his eyes on the road.
Mu Wan looked at him and added, “I want them to be my friends too.”
Liu Qianxiu turned his head.
Mu Wan tilted her head, the red plum hovering near her lips. When she saw his gaze shift to her, she paused and smiled. “Is that not allowed?”
His gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth. He looked at the plum in her hand and said, “Don’t eat that on an empty stomach.”
Her teeth tapped the fruit lightly, splitting the thin skin. A trace of sweetness leaked onto her tongue, spreading through her body.
Mu Wan set the plum down and wrapped her fingers around it again, obedient as she answered:
“Oh. Okay.”
By the time they returned to Liu Qianxiu’s home, it was after seven.
Mu Wan carried the kitten carrier into the cat room and let the three little ones out. Liu Qianxiu went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
In only a few days, the kittens could stand now—tiny bodies, short, thin legs, fluffy little lumps wobbling toward her hands.
Mu Wan stroked this one, then that one. The baby’s meows softened and warmed her heart.
After feeding and settling them, she headed for the kitchen. Before she left the cat room, a dark shape blocked her path.
Zhou Yi sat in the doorway, pale-gold eyes fixed on her.
Zhou Yi wasn’t clingy. She had never seen him cling to anyone. He was a black blur who liked hiding. Usually, he only strolled out after she and Liu Qianxiu finished eating, moving like a lazy emperor.
Now he was sitting there watching her, and Mu Wan couldn’t tell what he wanted.
She crouched, hesitated, then reached out her hand.
When her palm hovered over Zhou Yi’s head, he didn’t dodge.
She touched down gently.
Zhou Yi narrowed his eyes and nudged his fluffy head into her hand.
“Meow,” he said, long and soft.
Mu Wan’s gaze flickered.
He was cuddling her.
And that meant—
Zhou Yi had grown used to her presence. He was accepting her as part of this home.
A flower opened in Mu Wan’s chest.
She stood and hurried into the kitchen, bright with excitement.
“Liu Qianxiu! Zhou Yi just cuddled me!”
The kitchen lights were warm. Liu Qianxiu stood by the table. The dishes Mu Wan had chosen were already laid out. He looked up at her.
Outside, countless windows glowed in the city.
Liu Qianxiu’s lips curved faintly.
“Dinner’s ready.”
In that moment, Mu Wan wished the rest of her life could be like this.
After dinner, Liu Qianxiu rose to clear the table. Mu Wan lifted a hand.
“I’ll wash the dishes.”
Since she arrived, Liu Qianxiu had been cooking and cleaning. She’d done nothing but play with the cats. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help. The first time she’d eaten here, she’d offered—but he’d refused.
He had his own rules. He didn’t like people disrupting them.
Mu Wan spoke quickly, afraid he’d refuse again. “I can’t just—”
“Okay,” Liu Qianxiu said.
Mu Wan blinked, surprised, then followed him at once as he stacked the bowls and placed them in the sink.
Liu Qianxiu’s living room looked full of antiques, but his kitchen was more modern, mostly in appliances. Even so, the bowls and plates he used still carried the quiet beauty of old things.
His food was light, so the dishes were easy to wash. Mu Wan didn’t wear gloves. She picked up a thin, translucent white porcelain bowl. Light, elegant, almost luminous.
She turned on the faucet and began washing carefully.
Before she started, she’d tied up her hair. The curls made a fluffy little halo. Her face, however, was smooth and pale as porcelain—small and perfect.
Outside, the night sky was heavy and starless. Inside, the warm light softened everything. Mu Wan stood at the sink in her long dress, lashes lowered, expression peaceful.
She didn’t wash dishes like a beginner, yet she washed like one—fingers braced inside the bowl, wiping the rim over and over, careful.
Water ran in a steady hush, like a mountain stream—quiet, soothing.
Liu Qianxiu thought of what Huai Jing had said.
Mu Wan felt him standing beside her and grew nervous. She glanced up, holding the small bowl, eyes shining.
“Are you afraid I’ll drop it? Is it an antique?”
Liu Qianxiu lifted his eyes, about to answer—
When a sharp crack snapped through the kitchen.
The bowl slipped from Mu Wan’s hands into the sink.
It shattered.
Northern Song Ru kiln white porcelain.
“Ah!” Mu Wan’s heart jumped. She stared at the shards and reached down reflexively—
Before she could touch anything, her wrist was caught.
Long fingers closed around her gently, without force.
Mu Wan looked up.
Liu Qianxiu pulled her hand out of the sink, reached over, and shut off the faucet. He grabbed paper towels and carefully dried her fingers.
With the water gone, the kitchen fell quiet, and his voice sounded even lower, clearer.
“It’s fine. Broken is broken. It’s not something valuable. Don’t cut your hand.”
The author has something to say:
Liu Daochang: There are many bowls, but there is only one Mu Wan.
