When the Tsundere Rival Turns Into a Cat - Chapter 30

Ding Pei’s house was located in an old residential area. Many years ago, this had been a high-end neighborhood, but over time, it had gradually aged, and most residents had moved away. The remaining occupants were mostly retired elderly people. The environment was still pleasant—tranquil and leisurely, perfect for retirement.

The two cats and a few other small animals slipped into the residential area without drawing any attention. The white crane was slightly more conspicuous, but fortunately, the natural surroundings here were rich, and wild animals were often spotted. Besides, at this hour, most elderly residents weren’t outside, so no one paid them any mind.

When they reached Ding Pei’s doorstep, Xuan Yu raised his hand and waved—the door swung open with a click. Li Xingcan, who had been hiding under the crane’s wing, peeked out, and the group stepped inside.

Once everyone had resumed their human forms, Xuan Yu and the others began discussing how to deal with Ding Pei the next day. Since Ding Pei and Zheng Wenbai were the main conspirators—with Ding Pei as the mastermind—controlling him would largely resolve the issue. The biggest uncertainty now was what trump cards Ding Pei still held, so they had to remain cautious.

Li Xingcan and Jiang Qingyue had nothing to contribute to the discussion, so the two of them took the opportunity to examine Ding Pei’s house.

Ding Pei had no spouse or children and had lived alone for many years. The entire house was kept neat and minimalist, with a faint woody fragrance lingering in the air. Aside from essential furniture, there were hardly any unnecessary items. The frequently used objects bore clear signs of age.

It was frugal—almost uncharacteristic for a high school principal’s residence. There wasn’t even a display cabinet for awards or honors.

Li Xingcan, cradled in Jiang Qingyue’s hands, studied the rattan shelf in front of them. On it sat only a single potted plant, while the rest of the space was occupied by books on gardening, tools, fertilizers, and other supplies—clearly, a lot of effort had gone into nurturing this plant. Yet the tender sprout in the pot looked frail and withered, as if it might wither away at any moment.

“His gardening skills are seriously lacking,” Li Xingcan scoffed, shaking her head.

As she glanced around, she noticed something tucked between the stack of books and pointed. “What’s that? Take it out and let’s see.”

She was too small to lift a book herself.

Jiang Qingyue looked over. “Looks like a photo frame.”

As she spoke, she moved the obstructing books aside and pulled out the frame. The photograph inside appeared old but had been well-preserved.

It showed a young man and woman. The man, gentle and refined, wore a light-colored suit, his gaze resting on the young woman beside him—dressed in a white gown, her cheek propped on her hand as she smiled softly. It was unmistakably a couple deeply in love.

Li Xingcan studied it thoughtfully. “Is this Ding Pei when he was young?”

Jiang Qingyue nodded, then turned her attention to the potted plant on the shelf. She glanced back at Xuan Yu and asked, “Mom, was Ding Pei’s lover a flower spirit?”

Xuan Yu, having finished her discussion, walked over. Seeing the rattan shelf, she seemed to understand. “Yes, but I’m not sure about the details. I hadn’t come to the human world back then.”

Li Xingcan belatedly realized and pointed at the fragile sprout in the pot. “Wait—this isn’t Ding Pei’s lover, is it?”

Xuan Yu frowned slightly. “There’s no spiritual energy on it. This isn’t demonic, but it might be a remnant branch left by Ding Pei’s deceased lover. At this point, it’s no different from ordinary vegetation—extremely difficult to keep alive. He must have used countless resources over the years just to maintain it like this, but it’s all been futile.”

Jiang Qingyue placed the photo frame back. “So Ding Pei likely did all this for his dead lover?”

“Whatever his reasons, they don’t justify the harm he’s caused to the demon race,” Xuan Yu replied before returning to his chair. “Let’s all rest for now. Tomorrow will be busy.”

The group transformed back into their true forms to settle down for the night—much easier to rest as animals. As for Li Xingcan, Jiang Qingyue placed him on the table before reverting to his feline form, curling around the young man protectively.

It was much warmer here than in the demon realm, though the nights grew chilly. Nestled against Jiang Qingyue’s soft fur and enveloped by the cat’s body heat, Li Xingcan felt no trace of cold.

By noon the next day, the sound of the lock turning instantly roused everyone to alertness. Li Xingcan, already back in human form, hid behind the vine rack while the others concealed themselves in case Ding Pei wasn’t alone.

The door opened to reveal only the elderly man.

Despite being in his sixties, Ding Pei appeared decades older—his face deeply lined with exhaustion. Only his sharp eyes betrayed the keen mind beneath.

Pausing mid-step upon entering, he showed no surprise as he closed the door calmly behind him. “We have guests. Come out for some tea.”

Without waiting for response, he moved to the table and began boiling water.

Li Xingcan emerged first from hiding, followed by Xuan Yu, Jiang Qingyue and the others.

Ding Pei glanced at them. “I suppose I have you all to thank for my release. My gratitude.”

Dispensing with pleasantries, Xuan Yu cut to the chase. “The clan leader knows everything, Ding Pei. Will you confess voluntarily, or must we compel you?”

“I’ve no excuses to make…” Ding Pei gestured to the seats. “Sit. Let’s discuss this over tea.”

Xuan Yu took the opposite chair. “Start with when you began betraying the demon race for personal gain.”

“That… is a long story.” Ding Pei’s voice grew distant. “After Yu’er died, my heart turned to ashes. I became the liaison between realms to preserve my memories. In those days of frequent contact, I interacted with countless humans and demons. The more I learned, the clearer it became—humans and demons are fundamentally different. When humans die, that’s the end. But demons… especially plant spirits… their vitality persists. Even the smallest cutting or seed can regenerate. That’s when hope rekindled.”

As the water boiled, Ding Pei retrieved paper cups from a drawer and poured tea for each of them. Steam curled upward as Xuan Yu accepted his cup politely, setting it aside untouched. The others followed suit, waiting for Ding Pei to continue.

Ding Pei sat back down and continued, “When Yu’er was struck down by the heavenly lightning, it was I who gathered her remains. Though years had passed, I couldn’t give up. I found a branch and tried to cultivate it, but it had been too long. She was a magnolia after all—trying to grow a new plant from a years-old branch was pure fantasy. I had no choice but to seek help everywhere. I knew the demon race must possess something capable of resurrection.”

At first, Ding Pei simply did what he could, asking friends for assistance. He did manage to obtain a spiritual medicine from the demons that could revive plants. Seeing new sprouts emerge from the branch reignited his hope for life. But he didn’t realize that even temporary revival was one thing—nurturing a tender shoot into a towering tree was another matter entirely, especially when dealing with demon remains, making the task a hundred times more difficult.

He watched the sprouts emerge, grow, and slowly develop into a small seedling. But before he could rejoice, returning from work one ordinary day, he found only withered remains beyond saving.

Failure after failure, attempt after attempt—Ding Pei tried every method imaginable. The best he could achieve was maintaining the seedling stage; it never grew into a full plant. Yet he never gave up.

He exhausted all his connections, incurring countless debts of favor and money, but to no avail. Just as Ding Pei was on the brink of despair, a new decree from the demon race gave him fresh hope.

Over twenty years ago, as more demons chose to marry humans, producing offspring of mixed and bizarre bloodlines, the demon elders foresaw greater chaos ahead. They decreed an end to intermarriage between the races. Children born of such unions would have to purify their bloodlines, choosing to remain with either the demon race or the human world.

The task of settling these children—erasing their memories and bloodlines before sending them to the human world—fell to Ding Pei as the intermediary. He arranged care for these children in the human realm, while anxious demon parents naturally turned to him to learn their children’s whereabouts.

When one holds indispensable power, everything falls under their control.

The demon parents frequently interacted with Ding Pei, and whatever he desired was readily offered to him. This was how Ding Pei amassed his private wealth.

He admitted it openly, without a trace of remorse. Exploiting parental love to fulfill his own quest to resurrect his beloved weighed on his conscience not at all.

Xuan Yu frowned as she listened, but the story wasn’t over yet. She pressed on, “Exactly how much have you taken over the years? And where is it all?”

“I lost count long ago. Most of it’s been used up. What remains is on the shelves in that room over there—you can inventory it yourselves.”

Ding Pei pointed to a locked room across the way. The lock itself was demon-made, impervious to spiritual energy—clearly another ill-gotten gain.

While sending Bai He and others to take inventory, Xuan Yu continued interrogating Ding Pei. “Then why did you manipulate Qing Yue into going to the demon lands?”

“I knew the demon race planned to sever all ties with the human world. Once that happened, I’d become useless. I’d never be able to contact them again, and without their resources, reviving Yu’er would be impossible.”

Ding Pei steadied the paper cup in his hands, his gaze drifting to the window. “All these years, I’ve tried every method imaginable, but nothing worked. Yet I knew there had to be something that could save Yu’er. And that was…”

Ding Pei’s gaze shifted from the window to the people before him. Just as Xuan Yu was about to press for answers, he suddenly saw double vision. Looking at the still-steaming paper cup, he immediately realized something was wrong. He stood up and glared at Ding Pei across the table. “You—”

“Elder Xuan, I have no intention of harming your lives. But for now, please rest. Once my long-cherished wish is fulfilled, you may deal with me as you see fit.”

With a wave of Ding Pei’s hand, the people behind Xuan Yu collapsed to the ground, reverting to their original forms. Xuan Yu was barely holding on, staring intently at Ding Pei. “It’s not too late for you to stop now.”

“I’ve been preparing for this day for far too long,” Ding Pei replied without a trace of remorse.