Chapter 22

Ai Qing helped Xiao Yu into the dress before the panties, purely so he’d have to see as little of her body as possible.

It wasn’t that he was being squeamish.

He simply knew how people worked.

Once you let yourself cross a line, you can never walk it back.

If he let the stimuli pile up and lost his head, he might do something to Xiao Yu—and afterwards he wasn’t sure he could trust himself again.

Besides, what he longed for had never been raw lust.

He wanted the full resonance of emotion and flesh, mind and soul.

That was why he’d chosen the single life: he figured the odds of meeting a girl like that were basically zero.

A soul-mate, in plain words.

You’d need endless dating, constant trial and error—or a lightning-strike coincidence.

Otherwise you were fishing a needle out of an endless ocean.

So he’d decided to stay safe and content alone.

But now...

Ai Qing looked at Xiao Yu lying face-down on the bed and shook his head helplessly.

“Roll back over; let’s get your panties on.”

He reached out and turned her onto her back again.

Her innocent face blinked up at him, big heterochromatic eyes, deliciously pretty and utterly helpless.

Ai Qing rubbed his temples, snagged the panties from the table.

Nothing special—plain white cotton bikini cut.

Once she was on her back, Ai Qing slid off the bed and stood between her legs where they dangled over the edge, parting her pressed-together knees.

Her feet were tiny; he spread his hand and found it longer than her sole.

Delicate, pink, doll-sized—what shoe size even was that?

Come to think of it, he’d forgotten socks and shoes entirely...

Ugh. More money.

Maybe he could ask Sis Qian if she had any leftovers from when she was little.

Just a thought—he was already knee-deep in her misunderstanding.

He had no idea how he’d explain himself next time they met.

Put yourself in her shoes: you discover a male friend secretly buying bras, panties, and dresses.

What would you assume?

Perv?

Cross-dresser?

Or a carefully chosen gift?

He prayed she’d land on option three, but in his entire social circle she was the only woman he could even give them to.

Who’d believe the truth—that the kitten he kept at home had turned into a girl?

To keep his mind off that, Ai Qing focused on the task.

The panties were already over her toes, gliding up slender calves.

His fingers unavoidably brushed skin like chilled cream, and the contact sent a tremor through him.

Past the calves, over the knees...

but her thighs were still flat on the mattress.

He paused, gripped her ankles.

“Lift your legs, bend your knees.”

As he spoke he raised her little feet and set them on the bed; now he could slide the panties over her thighs.

What he hadn’t expected was the hem of the dress slipping down at the same time, baring everything from knee to upper thigh.

Maybe from all her daily acrobatics, even in human form she wasn’t merely thin—she carried the sleek lines of exercised muscle.

Against her milk-white skin the effect was breathtaking.

Luckily he stood directly in front of her; her raised shins blocked the most dangerous view.

He yanked the panties quickly up to the curve of her butt.

She was lying flat now, weight settled.

“Lift your hips a little,” he said.

Xiao Yu clearly didn’t understand.

In the end he had to roll her back over, onto hands and knees, bottom lifted.

He slid the waistband under the skirt, hands disappearing into dim cotton territory, and fitted the panties to her small, firm curves.

“Hoo...”

When it was done Ai Qing collapsed on his back, drenched as if he’d fought a war.

Seeing no further movement from him, Xiao Yu relaxed and crawled over to curl against his side.

Now that she wore the floral dress she looked like an ordinary teenage girl—if you ignored the snow-white hair and the cat ears half-hidden inside it.

For a second Ai Qing almost wondered whether he’d simply brought a girlfriend home.

Clothes solved, he could finally look at her properly.

He met her eyes, curiosity winning, and poked one fuzzy ear.

The ear twitched and flattened at the touch.

Another question popped into his head.

He gently brushed her hair aside, searching along her cheek—

Ah, four-channel audio after all.

Incredible.

Were the human ears just for show, or did all four work?

While he pondered, Xiao Yu rolled over and nestled into his arms.

Ai Qing: “...”

She had no ulterior motive; the closer she was to him, the thicker the current of warmth she drew from his body.

When he left the room it felt like a strand of hair;

when he stayed, a drinking-straw;

skin-to-skin, thumb-thick;

curled together like this, two fingers wide.

Even that wasn’t enough to balance her need.

So while he debated whether to push her away or simply enjoy it, Xiao Yu vanished.

In her place lay the fluffy white cat, Little Kitty, paws tucked beneath her.

Ai Qing felt a pang of loss—and a flood of relief.

He pulled out his phone, opened Taobao, and started searching for girls’ socks and shoes.

His own clothes had always been impulse buys by his mother.

Never thought he’d spend his own cash on apparel—

even if it was all for a girl who used to be a cat.

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