The Little Bookworm Marked Her Ex-aunt - Chapter 1: When Fear of Cats Meets a Clingy Cat

Chapter 1: When Fear of Cats Meets a Clingy Cat

In the southern district of Ning City, a three-story small Western-style building housed a coffee shop filled with people.

In the open-air courtyard outside, trendy-dressed people enjoyed afternoon tea.

Shu Yue wore a simple white T-shirt, tightly gripped the strap of her canvas bag on her right shoulder, and raised her hand to push up the heavy-framed glasses that nearly slid down from rushing too fast. She passed through the lively crowd, and with the chime of wind bells, Shu Yue pushed open the hall door.

A waiter approached: “Sorry, this lady, we have no seats indoors. There are a few empty tables in the garden outside; you can scan the code to order directly.”

“I don’t drink coffee.” Because she hurried all the way, Shu Yue spoke with a slight pant. “I came to find someone. Where is the Rose Summer private room?”

The waiter paused, then pointed the way: “Third floor, turn left, fourth room. There’s a sign at the door.”

“Thank you,” Shu Yue said.

As she quickly walked upstairs, the waiter turned and gossiped: “Rose Summer? I remember an omega booked it, right?”

A colleague nodded: “Meng Zhiyu, the big influencer, top-tier omega. I remember clearly; she always books that room.”

“What about the one just now?”

“No impression. You know, I have a bit of beta face recognition disorder; I always think betas look similar.” The colleague shrugged and said, “Maybe her staff.”

However, Shu Yue was not a beta.

She was not Meng Zhiyu’s staff either.

“Why are you so late?” After knocking lightly and getting permission, Shu Yue heard this as the first sentence from Meng Zhiyu.

The girl leaned against the sofa, lazily looking at her phone, with a row of expensive brand shopping bags slanted messily by her legs.

“Sorry,” Shu Yue said, glancing at her watch. “We agreed to meet at three. I didn’t expect this.”

It was only ten past two.

Meng Zhiyu’s carefully drawn eyebrows furrowed unhappily: “What? I came early?”

Shu Yue was used to her temper.

She shook her head, sat opposite Meng Zhiyu, and maintained a proper posture.

Shu Yue reflected: “I didn’t mean that. You said you’d shop with friends until three. I wondered if something happened, causing your plans to end early. Did you have fun?”

Meng Zhiyu raised an eyebrow and glanced at her: “You care so much about whether I had fun with her?”

Meng Zhiyu wanted to roll her eyes, lazily sipped her coffee, stirred the spoon, and asked: “Shu Yue, do you think I called you early and messed up your plans?”

“It affected me a bit,” Shu Yue said honestly. “We just received an injured barn owl, and my mentor asked me to help treat it.”

Ding—!

Meng Zhiyu’s spoon hit the cup’s wall.

She sneered and placed the coffee back on the table.

“Birds, birds, birds, always birds.” Meng Zhiyu was beautiful even when angry, like she was ignited. Her personality matched her red hair—volcanic, often erupting beyond Shu Yue’s expectations.

But Shu Yue admired volcanoes, so she tolerated Meng Zhiyu’s temper.

She didn’t get upset and showed a gentle smile: “Don’t be like that, Zhiyu. Barn owls are cute. Want to see its picture?”

“Not interested,” Meng Zhiyu huffed, saying sharply, “Shu Yue, spend your life with birds!”

Shu Yue thought her career path might make that inevitable. But she knew she couldn’t say that. Her mind raced, thinking what response was most appropriate.

But Meng Zhiyu didn’t give her a chance to reply.

“Go out with me next week,” Meng Zhiyu ordered.

Seeing Shu Yue’s hesitant expression, Meng Zhiyu said: “What? Unwilling?”

“Zhiyu, did you forget? Last week when we went out, I swapped shifts with a colleague, and it’s set for next week’s part-time job…” Shu Yue didn’t want to upset Meng Zhiyu and added, “I can try to switch again, but I’m not sure if it’ll work.”

This didn’t soothe Meng Zhiyu’s mood; it fueled her anger.

Bang—!

Meng Zhiyu slammed her phone on the table, her face dark: “I can’t stand you. Sometimes I want to ask, Shu Yue, do you even like me?”

“I—” Before Shu Yue could answer, Meng Zhiyu cut in, “Forget it, I don’t want to know.”

“Let’s break up,” Meng Zhiyu said, full of weariness. “I can’t stand this relationship for another second.”

“From high school until now, two years, almost two years.” Meng Zhiyu clutched her hair in frustration. “Shu Yue, why haven’t you improved at all? Just once, even once, can’t you give up your stupid projects, plans, or part-time jobs? Are those things so important? More important than me?!”

“Shu Yue, you make me feel disgusted, bored.” Meng Zhiyu grabbed the shopping bags by her feet and stormed out, slamming the door.

With Meng Zhiyu gone, the room felt much bigger.

Shu Yue looked at the dragon scale fern by the window, its dark green leaves seeming to hold the heat of Meng Zhiyu’s outburst.

How many times had this happened?

Even Shu Yue couldn’t quite remember.

Since they started university, Meng Zhiyu and she often had such arguments. Usually, Meng Zhiyu vented, and Shu Yue listened. Then, they’d quickly break up, typically at Meng Zhiyu’s decision.

Sometimes, it was a WeChat message, and before Shu Yue could reply, she was blocked and deleted.

Sometimes, like today, a big fight ended with a verdict on their relationship.

Then, they’d quickly reconcile because Shu Yue always gave in first. After Meng Zhiyu vented her sharpness and her anger cooled, she’d return to her sweet self.

At first, Shu Yue found this state hard to bear. Later, she got used to it.

In a way, time seemed to loop for Shu Yue.

She took off her glasses, rubbed her aching forehead, sighed deeply, and stood up. Her peripheral vision caught a lipstick in the sofa’s seam.

It was Meng Zhiyu’s.

She picked it up, put it in her pocket, and left the room.

A waiter stopped her at the door.

“Guest, this is your bill. The lady who left said you’d pay.”

Shu Yue silently took out her phone, scanned the bill—one coffee for sixty-eight, and Meng Zhiyu had taken several to go.

After paying nearly five hundred, Shu Yue left the shop, knowing Meng Zhiyu did it on purpose.

Sometimes, she did things like this. If Meng Zhiyu wanted to make you happy, she’d spare no effort. If she wanted you to feel bad, she had plenty of ways.

Most times, Shu Yue found this personality cute.

Not now, though.

She took out her phone to message Meng Zhiyu about the forgotten lipstick.

“The other party has enabled friend verification. You are not their friend. Please send a friend verification request. You can chat after they pass it.”

Shu Yue stopped, checked her phone and messages to see if she was blocked there too.

As expected, despite anticipating it, she still felt a headache.

Meng Zhiyu had blocked all her contact methods.

How many times had this happened? Shu Yue still couldn’t recall.

She didn’t immediately send a friend request.

Though it wasn’t obvious, Shu Yue felt some emotions. Until she processed them and convinced herself, she usually didn’t contact Meng Zhiyu quickly.

She feared they’d fight worse.

Now, she had no time for melancholy. Her senior at the lab called, saying there was an issue with the remote sensing data she handled, urging her to return quickly.

A tutoring parent messaged, asking if she could add an evening session since the child would travel soon and needed extra lessons.

A loan manager reminded her that this month’s medical loan of fifteen hundred was due, asking her to deposit money into the linked bank card soon.

Shu Yue replied to all messages one by one.

After sending the last punctuation with a cute yellow bean emoji, the moment she put down her phone, she felt a bit oxygen-deprived.

How could this be?

She stood under the sun with excellent air circulation, but her chest felt a short, suffocating pressure.

If only it would rain.

Shu Yue thought, in the dramas she watched with Meng Zhiyu, breakups often happened on rainy days.

If it rained, she might not feel so bad.

Her body might, like the clouds, have holes to release something—sadness, anger, or helplessness. Not like now, all clogged in her veins, causing pain but not enough to scream.

How awful.

Being dumped by Meng Zhiyu again didn’t hurt enough to break her instantly. She could still take the subway, return to school, sit at the computer, fix data, and run code.

Meng Zhiyu’s questions echoed endlessly in her mind.

Did she really not like Meng Zhiyu?

On the way to tutoring, the lipstick in her canvas bag, not hers, felt surprisingly heavy.

It rained when class ended. The parent gave her an umbrella and offered to drive her home, but Shu Yue declined.

She held the umbrella and walked back the way she came.

The rain pattered, heavier on the umbrella’s surface, tap-tap. Passersby held umbrellas, heads down, hurrying. Each small umbrella was a world, brushing past, not merging.

Shu Yue slightly understood why dramas had breakups in the rain—it made people sentimental.

Thinking carefully, as Meng Zhiyu said, why had she never given up anything for her? Did she really not like Meng Zhiyu enough? What were these two years of love?

Shu Yue pressed her lips tight.

Lost in thought, a meow sounded nearby.

Shu Yue turned and saw a tabby cat standing primly on the wet-dry corridor ground, its pale blue eyes round like clear gems.

“Meow—!” This one was more enthusiastic.

Shu Yue stared, seeing its tail sway, once, then again.

The cat lifted a paw, licked it, and tilted its head at her.

Shu Yue didn’t budge.

She turned to walk away, but the cat approached in a few steps, its body and hips rubbing against her leg.

Clearly, this cat was sleek, its fur shiny, clean, and pretty—not a stray.

Any cat lover would squeal, calling it “baby, baby.”

But Shu Yue didn’t like cats.

Strictly speaking, she feared them.

When the cat rubbed her leg, her hairs stood on end.

She lightly kicked to shoo it away.

But the cat grabbed her pant leg with its paws.

Shu Yue nearly screamed!

She pushed her canvas bag at the cat, trying to scare it off.

Instead, the cat climbed her bag, paws gripping, hind legs pushing, stuffing itself inside. It adjusted, poking its head out, showing a round, pretty face.

Shu Yue’s hand shook, nearly dropping the bag, but fearing she’d hurt the cat, she held it far out, looking around for someone nearby.

She hoped a kind person could reason with her.

She really didn’t steal the cat.

The cat made the first move!