After I Lost My Memory, My Wife Started To Chase Me - Chapter 17
Chapter 17: Doubt
The shopping trip was a success, and by the time they got back, it was the middle of the day. Beige parked the car and hesitated for a moment before saying to Weishu, “Do you want to take care of the flowers in the garden?”
Weishu glanced at the lawn and the garden, then looked down at her arm, her meaning very clear.
Beige sighed. “No one has taken care of them for almost a month. They’ve grown all wild and out of shape.”
Weishu thought for a moment. “How about you try trimming them for me?”
Beige immediately refused without a second thought. “I don’t know how to trim them. I’ll just mess them up, and it’ll do more harm than good.”
Weishu had originally loved the garden, but Beige had told her that her past self never let her touch it, which made her feel a little put off. It was just a garden, after all; if something was broken, it would grow back.
“What’s the big deal? If they’re ruined, they’ll just grow back. If they don’t grow well, we’ll just buy new seedlings and replant them,” Weishu said, acting like a mischievous rascal. “Anyway, my arms can’t handle it. If you don’t want to take care of them, then just let them keep growing wild.”
Beige frowned for a long time. “Forget it, I’ll find someone to help later this afternoon.” The last time she helped trim them, she not only messed up the flowers but also hurt her own hand. She’d learned her lesson; she wasn’t suited for this kind of work.
…
They carried the bags inside and began putting things away. Weishu was in charge of the food.
Just as she was taking out the various canned goods, a fluffy presence brushed against her. The cat, Ding Dong, with its big, bushy tail held high, came over and crouched obediently, letting out a soft meow.
Weishu looked at it, her eyes filled with fondness. “What do you want?”
Ding Dong moved closer and continued to rub against her hand.
Weishu stroked its chin and coaxed it softly, “Don’t cause trouble. I’ll play with you later.”
Hearing the sound, Beige called from the kitchen, “Ding Dong, come here. Mommy doesn’t have your cans in her hand.”
Ding Dong twitched its ears when it heard Beige call, but it stayed crouched by Weishu, pretending to be deaf.
Beige had no choice but to come out and pick it up, letting Weishu get back to her work. “It sees the cans and thinks they’re its own. It’s afraid you’ll eat them, so it’s here to supervise.”
Weishu understood and pulled her hand back. She then deliberately held a can up and waved it in front of Ding Dong, teasing it. “I’m not giving this to you. This is mine.”
Ding Dong’s head turned with the can. It wiggled restlessly in Beige’s arms, trying to grab the food.
Beige pressed down on its head and scolded it in a low voice. “Behave. Don’t fight with your mom over food.”
Beige was strong, and she intentionally held the cat’s head down. Ding Dong was rarely scolded like this. It let out a few soft, whimpering cries, and stopped moving, looking very wronged. Beige then released it.
The scolded Ding Dong jumped onto the sofa with a drooping tail, turning its back to both of them to contemplate its cat-life alone. Weishu’s playful teasing hadn’t gotten a bigger reaction from the cat, and she felt a little disappointed.
She waited until Beige turned and went back to the kitchen, then stealthily went behind Ding Dong and gently touched its plump little butt. Ding Dong twisted its body a little but didn’t move, continuing its self-imposed isolation. Without Beige there, Weishu didn’t dare touch it again, afraid that if it got too angry, it might scratch her.
She crouched and watched it for a while, observing the light blue patterns on its head that were smudged like ink wash paintings. The more she looked, the more she loved it.
Ding Dong eventually got over its anger. It was a cat that remembered food more than scolding. It voluntarily rolled over, meowed at Weishu, and invited her to play.
Weishu looked at the unorganized things on the floor. She ruffled its belly and said, “I’ll play with you later.”
But before she could pull her hand away, a flash of motion shot through the air. Ding Dong, with its quick eyes and hands, pounced and grabbed Weishu’s hand with its teeth.
“Ding Dong!”
An angry, warning cry came from the kitchen. Ding Dong seemed to be frozen in place, its mouth still holding Weishu’s hand. Weishu was first startled by the cat and then by the sight of Beige. After a moment, she slowly pulled her hand back and said awkwardly, “Don’t scold it. It’s my fault for being mischievous.”
Beige was wearing an apron and wiping the door frame. Her tall, long-legged figure stood against the light in the kitchen doorway, her face somber, making Weishu feel a shiver of fear. She threw the cleaning wipe on the table, took off her gloves, and walked over.
Ding Dong pulled its neck back. Weishu opened her mouth to say something, but Beige had already grabbed the scruff of its neck and lifted it up.
Weishu tugged on Beige’s arm. “Don’t hit it,” she whispered.
Beige looked down. “Let go.”
Weishu stammered, unsure of how to persuade her. “It didn’t bite hard. You can’t use domestic violence. This is your little kitty.”
The last sentence made Beige’s breath hitch. She loosened her grip on Ding Dong. The cat took the opportunity to kick its back legs, twisting and struggling out of Beige’s hand. It landed on the floor and instantly ran away, disappearing in a few bounds.
Beige lowered her eyes, her gaze fixed on the two clear tooth marks on the web of Weishu’s hand.
Ding Dong was a cat, after all. Feline animals had sharp teeth and claws and moved quickly. Biting was their instinct, and even when playing, they could hurt people by losing control of their strength. Especially because its bloodline wasn’t pure; it looked like a ragdoll but had the genes of a domestic cat. It would bite when it got a temper. Beige had taught it how to interact with people since it was a kitten, but she never expected it to show its worst, most unsavory side in front of Weishu.
This made Beige feel a sense of powerlessness, as if no matter how hard she tried to hide her flaws and insignificance, she couldn’t.
Lost in thought, Beige felt something grab her arm. Weishu had stood up and was gently taking Beige’s wrist, turning it to inspect it. Her brows were furrowed. “Did it hurt you when it kicked you?”
Beige’s throat moved, and her eyelashes fluttered. She pulled her hand back and said in a low voice, “No.”
Weishu thought for a moment, then said with a forced cheerful tone, “Oh, come on. The little cat is only a few years old. It’s just a playful time for it, like a child. I didn’t get bitten for real. It was just playing with me. Don’t be mad at it.”
Beige looked up and stared into Weishu’s eyes, her own filled with a strangely complex emotion. “It’s four years old this year… it’s a big cat. It should know better.”
Weishu smiled. “That’s why it didn’t really bite me.”
Beige pursed her lips, her eyes filled with hope. “You don’t dislike it?”
Weishu remembered the patterns on its head, and a smile appeared in the corner of her eyes. “No, it’s very cute. I like it a lot.”
Beige was stunned for a long time, standing there as if speechless. She didn’t even hear Weishu call her. Weishu waved her hand in front of her face and finally leaned on her shoulder and blew into her ear. “Wake up!”
Beige snapped out of her trance, her eyes filled with a barely contained ecstatic joy.
“You like it?” Beige was shocked, unable to believe it. “But you said before… that you hated it.”
When Weishu heard the word “before,” her face wrinkled up in a look of exasperation. “No way, no way. The first time I saw it, I thought the pattern on its head was so unique. I had a super good feeling about it.”
Weishu’s protest seemed meaningless, but Beige only said one sentence. “This was originally a little cat for you.”
Weishu’s eyes widened. She pointed in the direction where the cat had run off and then at herself. “My cat?”
Beige nodded slightly, her voice low and full of hurt. “I gave it to you to raise, but you didn’t want it.”
A metaphorical pot from the sky landed squarely on Weishu, making her feel a sharp sting. She had accepted everything else from before, but this one made her feel a spark of doubt. She had only lost her memory; her personality hadn’t been changed. How could she possibly have hated a cat she liked at first sight?
All these days, she had been told, “You don’t like this,” “you hate that,” “you always reject people.” It was as if a layer of fog was separating her from her past. Sometimes, Weishu couldn’t help but wonder if the person they were talking about was really her. How could the person they described be so completely different and opposite from who she was now?
Had there been a misunderstanding about the things that happened before?
Weishu pressed on. “What exactly happened back then?”