April. Early summer was drawing near.
Butterflies lingered restlessly around the blooming begonia of the Western Mansion, their wings brushing through the air as warm sunlight spilled gently across the vivid crimson petals, scattering light like crushed gold.
Xiao Zhan crouched beneath the flowering tree, body drawn tight.
A pair of pale lavender embroidered shoes stopped before him.
He lifted his eyes.
Backlit by the sun, the woman's face was blurred in a halo of light. Slender fingers—ten delicate digits—reached toward him.
Xiao Zhan had lived twenty-four years. This was the first time he had tasted fear.
A helplessness wrapped around him, binding his limbs, stealing his strength.
The source of that suffocating pressure—
Was the woman now wrapping both arms tightly around him.
Her features were plain, her expression gentle. Yet at the center of her brow rested a vivid red beauty mark, bright as fresh blood, lending her otherwise modest appearance an unexpected allure.
He had seen her before.
He remembered.
Just as he tried to struggle, a sharp cry pierced his ears—
"Miss! Put it down! That cat is filthy!"
"Its back is rotting—there might be maggots inside! Who knows what's crawling in there! Miss, let go!"
"It looks half-dead—what if it has feline plague? What if it infects you?"
The barrage of noise rang in Xiao Zhan's ears until they buzzed.
Ironically, all that chaos came from a single maid.
She was young, with thin, lively lips that moved as fast as rolling beads, chattering without pause.
The woman with the beauty mark looked at her maid—and suddenly laughed, wondering if the girl had transformed from a talkative myna bird.
"It's fine. A wash will do. Stray cats are always a little dirty. And even if it's feline distemper, it won't infect humans," she said calmly.
Xiao Zhan remembered now.
Her name was Zheng Qian—the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Jing'an's residence. He had met her once before.
She had scolded him.
Then cried at him.
When she cried, that beauty mark at her brow had flushed redder, like a drop of blood, giving her a strangely enchanting air.
Unforgettable.
It had been nearly a month since he turned into a cat.
For the first time, he felt kindness.
Or perhaps he was simply burning with fever and close to death. The instinct to resist had faded from him. Limp and powerless, he let Zheng Qian hold him.
—
Zheng Qian had discovered a dying stray cat in her courtyard.
The cat was so filthy its original color could not be seen. Only its pair of yellow-green heterochromatic eyes remained clear and startlingly bright.
Zheng Qian was a devoted cat lover.
In her previous life, she had been a military doctor in the interstellar age. During a battle, her mech had been destroyed. She had not died—but awakened instead in this ancient feudal world, inside the body of a noble young lady.
The girl's name was also Zheng Qian.
And she looked exactly like her.
Military Doctor Zheng Qian had adored cats. But her profession meant she spent most of her life aboard mechs alongside soldiers—where pets were forbidden.
So she "cloud-raised" cats instead, hoarding countless cat photos in her personal terminal, fantasizing about retirement: buying a small estate on some peaceful planet, raising two soft, sweet cats.
She never achieved that dream.
Now, seeing this stray, her heart leapt. She scooped it up without hesitation.
The maid, Hongluan, was horrified. Her once fastidious young lady—who used to detest anything dirty—was now cradling a grimy, half-dead stray like a treasure.
"Fetch me a basin of hot water," Zheng Qian ordered lightly.
"Miss…"
"Go."
Her voice remained gentle, yet something sharp edged beneath it—an authority that allowed no refusal.
Hongluan shivered.
Ever since the young lady's failed suicide and miraculous rescue, she had been… different. Still soft-spoken. Still warm. But occasionally, when she gave orders, there was a calm precision that compelled obedience.
Muttering anxiously about their dwindling household allowance, Hongluan hurried off.
—
Once alone, Zheng Qian placed the cat on the table.
Its body temperature was alarmingly high. Possibly distemper. Possibly dehydration-induced fever.
Large patches of ringworm covered its ears and back, scratched raw and bleeding, fur tangled with dried blood. There was not a single patch of healthy skin on its body.
"Poor thing," she murmured, stroking its head. "You and I are fated. I'll raise you. Don't be afraid. I'll shave your fur, clean you up, treat your wounds. Then the infections won't keep coming back. Be good, alright?"
The cat blinked weakly.
As if it understood.
Zheng Qian smiled, delighted.
She possessed a spatial medical system—an interstellar military doctor's standard equipment—that had somehow followed her soul into this life. Within it were endless medicines from the spacefaring era.
She withdrew a willow-leaf scalpel and carefully shaved the cat's matted fur.
She feared it might struggle and cut itself, even considered anesthesia—but astonishingly, it lay completely still.
Only its faint blinking proved it had not already died.
Soon, the filthy fur was gone.
Wounds. Infections. Torn skin.
Her chest tightened.
"Little pitiful one," she whispered softly. "Mother will treat you well. Don't be scared."
She mixed terbinafine solution into the hot water—a powerful antifungal treatment from her own era—and gently lowered him into the basin.
The medicine stung. His limbs twitched weakly.
Then he lay still again.
All his remaining strength seemed devoted to one thing: keeping his eyes open. Proving he was still alive.
"Such strong will to survive," she murmured with a smile, splashing warm water over his back. "Since you're mine now, I should give you a name."
She paused.
"You're a boy… How about A-Chou? Ugly names are easier to raise."
She had already confirmed he was male. She even considered neutering him in a few days—best to avoid trouble during mating season.
"A-Chou?" she tried.
The cat slowly lifted his eyelids.
If she wasn't mistaken—
There was unmistakable resignation in his gaze.
Even… disdain.
Zheng Qian laughed brightly.
"How interesting. Cats really are angels."
So what if she transmigrated into ancient times?
She had a cat now.
And for a true cat lover—
With a cat, all is well.