When the Tsundere Rival Turns Into a Cat - Chapter 7

After speaking with Auntie and Li Xingcan on the phone, the housekeeper glanced at Jiang Qingyue’s tightly shut door before turning off the lights and retiring to her own room. Whatever needed to be discussed could wait until Li Xingcan returned tomorrow.

Having just finished washing up in her room, Jiang Qingyue sat on the edge of her bed staring blankly at the watch on her nightstand. If she were to leave tomorrow, she’d need to call Aunt Xun with an excuse convincing enough to ease her worries.

Pulling up the covers to sleep, she had just laid down when her heart began pounding violently. She quickly sat up again, taking several deep breaths before silently reciting the long-memorized incantation.

After repeating it three times, the sensation felt different from this morning—her body seemed to grow lighter, almost as if she were floating. Unable to resist, she opened her eyes and nearly fainted from shock.

Her entire world had transformed. The dark, unlit room now appeared crystal clear to her, with her vision extending far beyond normal limits. Before she could process this change, she suddenly plummeted from midair onto the bed with a thud.

Something was terribly wrong. Looking down at herself, she saw four white-gloved paws instead of hands. Turning her head, she discovered a fluffy tail swishing behind her.

She had turned into a cat.

Even with prior mental preparation, the reality was staggering. Attempting to lift a front paw for closer inspection, she forgot about quadrupedal balance—without one supporting limb, her body wobbled precariously before her feline face planted unceremoniously into the blankets.

Clearly, mastering four limbs would require significant practice.

Uncertain about her feline appearance—her mother had been a majestic solid-black mystical cat—she examined her own white mittens and seemingly long fur, wishing for a mirror. The transformation did grant remarkable agility, though coordinating four independent legs proved challenging.

Maintaining balance required constant tail and head adjustments, preventing her from watching her steps. Each limb seemed autonomous—rear paws frequently collided with front ones despite her attempts to mimic cat movements. Fortunately, the soft bed cushioned her frequent tumbles.

Through persistent practice, Jiang Qingyue’s quick learning ability prevailed. After dozens of laps across the mattress, she developed muscle memory for walking and even mastered turning maneuvers, though the occasional misstep still occurred.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the bedside. What had always been a modest knee-height drop now appeared dizzyingly vast in feline perspective. The realization struck her—in a cat’s world, everything loomed enormous.

Clearly, her jumping skills needed honing too. Places once easily reachable would now require considerable effort.

Standing on the bed, Jiang Qingyue attempted to leap upward using her hind legs. The result was unexpectedly impressive—her lightweight body combined with powerful hind legs allowed her to jump astonishingly high, startling her so much she nearly puffed up mid-air.

Landing shakily on the quilt, she took a moment to steady herself. It was clear she needed to learn how to control her strength.

After repeated practice, she finally mustered the courage to leap from the edge of the bed. Bending her limbs upon landing to absorb the impact, she touched down gracefully.

Her first practical attempt was a success.

This greatly boosted Jiang Qingyue’s confidence. Pattering across the carpet, her fluffy tail swaying gently, she slowly made her way toward the dressing table. A distance that would normally take just a few steps now felt incredibly far, with all the furniture looming like giants around her. She had to tilt her head up just to see anything.

The new perspective was oddly fascinating. When she reached the chair—taller than the bed—she gauged the height, gathered a bit of strength, and leaped. She nearly overshot but managed to land safely on the seat.

Next was the table.

The height difference wasn’t much greater, so this time Jiang Qingyue carefully adjusted her force. Though she still overshot slightly, she successfully landed on the tabletop.

Curling her hind legs beneath her in a cat-like sitting position, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.

Staring back at her was a long-haired black-and-white tuxedo cat. Most of her fur was black, except for the white patches from her chin down to her chest and all four paws. Her round eyes, dilated in the dim light, made her pupils appear especially large. Tilting her head slightly, the tufts of fur on her perked ears swayed with the movement.

She was quite pleased with her feline form. Though she didn’t resemble her mother much, she still looked good.

After admiring herself for a while, Jiang Qingyue hopped back down—first from the table, then the chair, and finally onto the bed.

Eager to share the news with her mother, she glanced at the watch on the nightstand. Her mother had warned her not to contact her unless it was an emergency, but surely this counted as an important situation?

She decided to try sending a message.

Typing with cat paws proved impossible. Sitting upright, Jiang Qingyue silently recited the incantation in her mind. After three repetitions, the only change was a slight clarity in her thoughts—nothing else.

Looking down, she was still a cat.

Panic began to set in. Closing her eyes tightly, she repeated the incantation three more times. Still nothing.

Why couldn’t she change back?

Her anxiety grew as she tried again—ten times, twenty, thirty!

Useless. Nothing happened.

What if she was stuck like this? Aside from her mother, she didn’t know any other humans aware of the existence of supernatural beings, let alone actual yokai. She could communicate with small animals, but that wouldn’t solve her problem.

Pacing frantically on the bed, Jiang Qingyue felt utterly lost. What if she never turned back?

Pressing a paw to her face, she forced herself to push aside the rising dread. She needed to stay calm. The situation was clear: she had turned into a cat and had no idea how to become human again.

The good news was that it was vacation time, so she didn’t have to go to school. The bad news was that until she turned back into a human, she’d have to survive as a cat.

Another problem was that even though she didn’t have to attend classes, if Li Xingcan and her aunt couldn’t find her tomorrow, it would cause unnecessary trouble.

Could she leave a message saying she’d gone away for a while to prevent them from reporting her as a missing person?

But how to leave one became the next hurdle.

She first rummaged through her backpack, trying to grip a pen with both paws. Forget writing—she could barely keep her balance. Using just one paw didn’t work either; she couldn’t hold the pen steady.

This wasn’t going to work. She jumped back onto the bed and hooked her claws around the watch on the nightstand, managing to open it after some effort. But the screen was too small—the slightest tap with her paw caused accidental touches, making it impossible to type a message.

After struggling for a long time, she finally opened the message list. Jiang Qingyue tried to speak, “Meow…”

As expected, human speech was beyond her now.

Then she remembered—her mother could understand cat language.

Her eyes lit up. If that was the case, why bother leaving a message for Li Xingcan? She could just contact her mother directly!

Carefully relaxing her paw, she aimed at the message box on the screen and gently pressed down, using just the tip of her paw pad. Success—she opened the chat with her mother.

Switching to voice input, she held down the recording button and spoke, “Meow… meow meow meow…”

She explained her situation in full, then released her paw. The message sent.

Her mother would definitely reply once she saw it. All Jiang Qingyue had to do was wait—for her mother to tell her how to turn back.

Some of the earlier panic and tension finally eased. After all that effort, she was exhausted. Curling up around the watch, she hoped her mother would see the message soon.

As she waited, perhaps from the sudden release of tension, Jiang Qingyue drifted off to sleep without realizing it.

When the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window, she woke up and immediately checked the watch. Her mother had replied.

Mom: You’ve already entered the transformation phase this soon? Don’t be afraid. Just relax—during this period, you’ll shift between cat and human forms at random, but the longest you’ll stay as a cat won’t exceed 24 hours. To gain control, you’ll need to cultivate. Right now, you still need some tools for that. I’ll arrange for a trustworthy person to deliver them to you, but it’ll take a few days for them to reach Jiang City. Since it’s the holidays, just stay at the Li family’s place for now. If absolutely necessary, you can tell them about your condition—they’re people we can trust.

Perhaps knowing Jiang Qingyue’s current limitations, Xuan Yu sent a lengthy reply covering everything, which put her somewhat at ease.

If it was 24 hours, nearly ten had already passed. She would definitely turn back into human form before tonight.

That was a relief. As long as Li Xingcan came home late, everything would work out. She’d move out before her next transformation, rent a place, and stock up on food. That way, she could just stay indoors until her mother’s contact arrived with the necessary items. Then she could start cultivating properly and get back on track.

The previous confusion and unease were diluted by curiosity about cultivation upon seeing this message. Apart from turning into a cat, Mom never used her demonic powers in front of her or talked much about demon clan affairs. She truly wondered—if she cultivated, could she really soar through heavens and earth like in legends, achieving immortality?

Lost in thought, Jiang Qingyue was startled by two knocks at the door. She tensed, glancing warily toward the entrance before quickly hiding.

After just two knocks, the housekeeper left. Jiang Qingyue exhaled in relief—the woman never entered her room uninvited. Those knocks were merely to check if she was awake. If not, like yesterday, she’d return later to ask again.

Probably accustomed to Li Xingcan sleeping till noon, the housekeeper wouldn’t wake her early. At least this morning would pass safely.

But what if the housekeeper couldn’t find her and spotted an unfamiliar cat here? Would suspicions arise?

She couldn’t stay. She had to leave. Even if her absence was noticed, it wouldn’t warrant calling the police until evening. She just needed to reappear by nightfall.

Surveying the room, her gaze landed on the garden window—left slightly ajar for ventilation. Impossible for a human, but perfect for a cat.

Yet the windowsill was dauntingly high.

Being a ground-floor bedroom, the window wasn’t floor-length but positioned about 1.2 meters up. Jumping from the bed solved the height issue, but the distance proved tricky.

After careful measurements and multiple attempts, Jiang Qingyue knew she could do it.

Several failed leaps later, she finally scrambled onto the sill, front paws gripping the frame securely. Glancing back at the room one last time, she leaped through the open window, landing softly on the garden’s loose soil.

Now to find a secluded spot and wait quietly until it was time to return.

Unaccustomed to bare paws on the ground, she didn’t wander far—especially when her stomach growled with hunger. With no meals until evening, conserving energy was wise.

In a garden corner, she scraped together fallen leaves for padding. Curling up with limbs tucked beneath her, she protected her belly from the chill.