Chapter 28

March 15th, sunny.

Qianxin Pet Hospital opened today.

Kong Fugui actually came back to the country. They say Wu Yong was discharged after an injury; when I have time I’ll go visit him with Guigui.

In the evening I celebrated a birthday with Xiao Yu.

The thing that shocked me the most... Xiao Yu actually spoke!

Her words came out halting, but she could already express what she meant: “Good... tasty. Happy.”

Heh heh.

Hearing someone affirm you out loud feels ridiculously satisfying.

And the way she strained, pushing each syllable out like a chick pecking at its shell, was unexpectedly cute.

But when I tested her again last night, I realised the words she can say are only the handful she herself understands.

She still can’t fully grasp what I’m saying or the real meaning of most sentences.

Fluent two-way conversation is going to take ages.

Still, at least there’s hope now.

Once Xiao Yu learns to talk I can relax; raising a little girl who can’t speak is inconvenient—and accident-prone.

May things keep getting better.

......

March 16th, overcast.

Yesterday’s trial-promo stats came out: +371 bookmarks.

Among this batch of Light-Novel promos, that puts me third.

First place: “Sasuke, Be My Son!”—a Naruto fanfic.

I nearly lost it when I saw the title, but then I noticed the premise: Whitebeard from One Piece transmigrates into the Naruto world. Suddenly it all made sense.

Second place: “Douluo: Tang San of the Witch Path”—a Douluo fanfic that borrows the Witch pathway from Lord of the Mysteries and gender-bends the MC Tang San...

I almost choked.

Still, the better numbers for those two are understandable.

Web-novel authors have it rough these days, especially newbies without an old hit to their name. To grab early exposure you need a catchy—sometimes outright goofy—hook.

That’s the only way to rope readers in before the first cull.

I’m no different.

A human-turned-cat isn’t exactly novel, but mix it with childhood-sweetheart tension and it’s still clickable.

Ranking third lets me breathe a little; making the second promo round should be safe.

Out of dozens of titles on that list, my original light-novel is third—my editor said that’s stellar.

The next original entry is way down past twentieth.

What can you do? Fanfic comes with built-in traffic; add a fun gimmick and its early pull crushes originals.

If it weren’t for loyal readers from my old book, my first-round numbers might have been mediocre.

Someone pinged me in the group chat—Little Ragdoll, that bastard who lives for popcorn drama.

The moment I saw the tag, I knew Qingshan Xu was bitching again.

He jumped on the simulator-craze with a cultivation setting; his promo numbers look decent too.

I didn’t scroll long. Everything will be decided when we go on sale—first-month subscription is the real verdict.

......

March 17th, Tuesday.

When you’re full-time, days of the week blur.

Every day feels the same—no division between workdays and weekends.

While others grind at the office I can nap; while they rest on weekends I’m still tapping keys.

The upside is flexible hours.

Today, for instance, Guigui came asking if I wanted drinks.

Sis Qian said things have calmed down; she’s free tonight.

I checked my saved drafts—plenty of buffer—so I can go out.

Debauched nightlife, here we come... Guigui’s going to corrupt me again.

Apparently his kid brother’s exams are coming up?

Wonder if the old textbooks and homework folders are still around.

......

4 p.m.

Ai Qing stretched at his desk, shut the computer and stood up—only to turn and find Xiao Yu sitting on the bed in a “duck sit,” quiet as a statue.

The girl was perched right behind him; he almost jumped out of his skin.

“Xiao Yu, could you not be so silent when you shift? You’ll give me a heart attack one day.”

Xiao Yu tried to channel the warm current into her head, tilting it as she wrestled with his meaning.

“Xiao... yu?” She blinked, catching only her name.

Well, that’s still all she understands—progress is slow.

“Tonight,” he said, gripping her shoulders, “I’m going out to eat and drink with friends. I’ll be back late. You stay home, don’t open the door for strangers, got it?”

She mirrored his solemn face, expression growing graver, then brightened and announced, “E-eat... eat!”

Smart kitty.

Ai Qing ruffled her snow-white hair; his fingers brushed her cat ears—soft, twitching, irresistible.

He gave them one guilty squeeze, then pulled away. “All right, I’m off. Your kibble’s on a timer—dispenses at six.”

“Mm?” Xiao Yu felt the warm current in her body swell, then shrink again. Realising he was leaving, she scrambled across the bed toward the door.

Ai Qing laughed, took her hand and helped her down, using the walk to practise her steps.

Xiao Yu had no idea what “learning to walk” meant; she only knew that holding his hand flooded her with that delicious warm current—cosy and safe.

When they reached the door he let go to turn the handle; wobbly, she pitched forward and hugged his back.

Mmph!

Eyes squeezed shut, she felt his warmth flood every inch of her.

Knock knock.

From outside: “Ai Qing! You ready? Let’s roll.”—Xiao Youqian.

Ai Qing: “......”

He really wants to leave—honest.

But how can he push her away?

Why has she been so clingy lately—did he roll in catnip or what?

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