novelraw Chapter 46
Chapter 46
Chapter 46They already kept a cat—what was the point of dating?
Main Text – Volume 46
A Night That Wouldn’t End
Legend has it that the moment a dating couple moves in together, they face a brutal trial of affection.
Lovers who once clung to each other only in their free time suddenly become the person you see every minute of every day at home.
To those who’ve never tried it, it sounds blissful—utterly enviable.
Anyone who’s actually been through it knows better.
Turns out your darling partner’s bowel movements smell like chemical warfare.
They grind their teeth, snore, and yank the quilt off you in their sleep.
They don’t brush before bed, skip hand-washing after the toilet, wear the same socks and underwear for days, and let laundry pile up for a week.
They won’t cook—just orders take-out—then leaves the plastic containers strewn across the dining table.
They never put anything back; when they need it again, they wander the flat in circles, muttering that someone must’ve hidden it.
Their schedule is upside-down: phone glowing all night, human missing all day.
The clash of two separate lifestyles—each with its own merits and flaws—can grind a beautiful relationship into dust.
Luckily, Ai Qing and Xiao Yu hadn’t reached that level of horror yet.
Ten-odd minutes later, the restroom filled with the rush of water.
Ai Qing’s voice drifted out:
“Remember, when you’re human and you use this toilet, you wipe with paper afterwards.”
“Then you pull your underwear back up, turn around, and look—this button on the tank. Yes, you press it.”
Xiao Yu tried.
The toilet whooshed, swallowing everything and leaving the bowl spotless.
“Good job.” He took her hand and led her to the sink, turning on the tap. “After the toilet, you wash.”
“Mm!” The moment water touched her fingers she jerked back; he coaxed them under the stream until she adjusted.
“This is soap. Press once, catch it with the other hand.”
“Rub your palms together—see the bubbles?”
Standing beside her, he guided her small, slender hands through every step.
Her hands were tiny, but so delicately built they looked long—until his own closed over them and the difference became adorable.
If both palms lay flat, her fingertips barely reached the base of his fingers—an eight-or-nine-centimetre gap.
Holding her hand felt like holding the whole world in check.
“Once you’ve got lather, scrub front, back, between fingers, then rinse.”
Whether she listened was anyone’s guess; the slick slipperiness of soap was the most fascinating thing she’d ever felt.
When the water stopped, she lifted her wet hand and, on instinct, stuck out her tongue.
He caught her wrist just in time. “No licking. Honestly, you little dope.”
“This is a towel. Dry like this.”
“See? All dry.”
She studied her hand, enlightenment dawning, then turned to him, wrapped the towel round his hand, and clumsily blotted the drops from his skin.
For a second he stared at her earnest face and forgot how to breathe.
“All right, bedtime.” He hung the towel up, walked out, and steadied his pulse. “Lights out.”
He lay back and pulled the quilt over himself.
Eyes closed, he felt her sit on the edge of the bed.
“If you’re getting in, take your shoes off first.” He rolled over. “Can you manage slippers? I showed you before.”
“Mm... mm?” She tilted her head, either genuinely puzzled or expertly faking it, lifted both legs onto the mattress, and presented her feet. “You. Come. I. Can’t. Reach.”
Ai Qing: “...You’d better not be conning me.”
He shifted to the foot of the bed, cupped her heel in one hand, steadied her calf with the other, and eased a white sneaker off.
The second shoe followed.
He glanced at the white socks, met her eyes, and decided the socks had to go too.
Beneath the cotton, her skin was milk-white—so pure it made the fabric look dingy.
When the socks were peeled away, she wriggled her bare toes, unaccustomed to air, and rubbed one foot against the other—utterly distracting.
“Enough. Sleep.”
He exhaled, lay back, and shut his eyes.
The quilt lifted a moment later as she carefully crawled in beside him.
He’d meant to make her sleep on her own, but even now that she could speak, her mind was still a cat’s.
No concept of human propriety, no “men and women shouldn’t touch.”
She’d always napped on his bed; why should being human change that?
At present she could hold human form for only an hour or so—far too short a window for a midnight lecture on boundaries.
Lying quietly seemed to stretch the time; probably the more energy she burned, the faster she reverted.
Unfortunately, “warm flow” was still too abstract for her to explain the mechanism.
Feeling her curl against him, Ai Qing opened his eyes in the dark and wondered how he was supposed to sleep.
Behind him lay a snow-haired cat-eared girl with a tail—Xiao Yu in all her impossible cuteness.
He must have saved the entire universe in his last life.