I Really Want to Pet My Wife's Cat Ears - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Seven Cats

Shuo Yu watched the little emojis of surprise, excitement, and shyness popping up over Ji Mianmian’s head, and her smile deepened. It seemed the girl was also looking forward to her appearance.

The kittens in Mianmian’s hands were squirming like slippery live fish. Ji Mianmian realized that food was far more attractive to them; it seemed only a “special cat” like herself could truly appreciate Shuo Yu’s beauty.

A bit embarrassed, she let Little White and Little Flower go off to play freely, then reached into her back-basket to lift One-Eye out. “Shuo Yu, this is One-Eye. Since you set the permissions, it can’t enter the plaza.”

Shuo Yu noticed this new friend. The game’s details were incredibly realistic; she immediately noticed the tortoiseshell cat’s closed right eye and the unnatural way it held its front limb. As a cat lover, the sight made her heart ache. She immediately clicked the “Greet” button to try and build favorability.

[One-Eye Favorability +1, added to Cat Encyclopedia]

The moment One-Eye saw Shuo Yu, bad memories flooded back. The evil spirits it had encountered before were human-shaped, and its current state was thanks to them. It felt instinctive fear upon seeing a human. Out of trust for Ji Mianmian, it carefully offered a point of favorability, but the subconscious terror still gripped it.

Shuo Yu felt a pang of sadness seeing the skull and “fear” bubbles over One-Eye’s head. Those stark scars were clearly man-made. Having watched many animal rescue videos, she knew that cats who had suffered abuse were the hardest to reach, though they often became the most clingy once their hearts were won.

She pursed her lips and said seriously, “Hello One-Eye. Thank you for looking after Little White and Little Flower last night. Mianmian told me you’re hurt—let’s get you to the Medical Relief Station right away.”

One-Eye let out a soft meow and tapped the guardrail again, blinking in surprise. Now that it had positive favorability, the safe zone was completely open to it.

Shuo Yu saw the tortoiseshell cat offer another point of favorability. Then, with an arched back, it stood up and walked toward the medical station step by step, even refusing Mianmian’s offer to carry it.

The premium Medical Relief Station was excellent—fully automated and foolproof. It generated a treatment plan in no time. Shuo Yu wasn’t a professional and couldn’t understand the medical data, but the final conclusion satisfied her.

She said to the worried Ji Mianmian, “The system says One-Eye’s new head wound can be completely cured for 2,000 Cat Coins. However, the eye, front paw, and old chronic injuries require 35 Cat Diamonds. I don’t have enough right now, so I’ll check the diamond packs in the shop later.”

The game automatically translated her words into “Cat Speak.” One-Eye’s expression completely crumbled into a mix of shock and joy. Its eye had been blind for two years; it never thought it could be cured! It meowed anxiously, bubbles of questions floating up one after another.

Shuo Yu read through them and promised, “It really can be cured. The system wouldn’t lie to a cat. If I don’t have enough diamonds, I’ll just top up. Don’t worry, I can afford it.”

Tortoiseshell cats have very chaotic patterns—black, white, and orange fur mixed randomly. No two are alike, and many people think they are ugly. But Shuo Yu liked it. Because of her allergies, she had never been able to have close contact with a cat; this repressed longing had turned into an “all-comers-welcome” level of desire. She loved cats of any breed or color.

Watching One-Eye meow on the screen, trying to show its loyalty by promising to catch fish and mice to repay her once it was cured, Shuo Yu’s eyes softened with tenderness. She petted every cat in the plaza: “We can talk about repayment later. As long as you all are healthy, that’s enough.”

After paying the Cat Coins for the head wound, the station began to operate. After watching the mechanical arm shave, clean, and apply medicine for a bit, Shuo Yu opened the recharge page. To heal One-Eye, Cat Diamonds were a must, but before that, she clicked [Contact Customer Service].

Player Shuo Yu: Is support there? I have a few things to discuss.

This was the first time Shuo Yu had noticed the support icon. It was a white cat with its eyes closed, a glowing halo over its head, and paws pressed together piously—it looked strangely divine.

Support 001: How can I help you, meow? You can speak to me directly, meow!

Shuo Yu had approached with a mind to complain, but… it said “meow”! She silently deleted her aggressive words and adjusted her phrasing.

Player: I’ve played for two days and experienced quite a bit, and I’ve spent money too. I’ve found some settings that aren’t very player-friendly, so I’m reporting them.

1. The game’s tone is relaxed farming, but the evil spirits caught me off guard. I know you want to evoke sympathy through the cruelty of spirits, but the AI is too smart and the immersion is too strong. It makes my heart feel heavy.

2. Too much to grind, too little stamina. For example, when a cat is sick, if I don’t pay, I can only watch in distress. It feels like forced spending, which is a bit distasteful. Also, the interaction CDs are too long. Even if we can only gain favorability once every 24 hours, at least let me pet them in between.

3. The ways to get blueprints, fragments, and clothes are vague. I haven’t found any newbie tutorials or guides on social media. If it weren’t for the official release license and the ability to pay normally, I’d suspect this game was problematic!

The support side kept showing “typing,” but Shuo Yu waited nearly ten minutes without a reply. Suspecting this tiny game was too niche and the staff weren’t experienced, she twitched her mouth and switched to the recharge page to see which pack was most cost-effective.

She had 14 diamonds; healing One-Eye completely required another 21. Finally, Shuo Yu looked at the [Cottage Function].

Recharging 648 Yuan would unlock the cottage, along with two “Young Lady” outfits, a full set of basic furniture, and 88 Cat Diamonds. It was a bargain. The previously stubborn Shuo Yu, who had vowed not to spend, clicked buy. This was her third transaction.

She comforted herself: “With a cottage, Mianmian and the others can stay indoors at night. The cottage won’t be invaded by spirits—it’s the safest place on the island. It can be expanded too, so more cats can live there later.”

Since support still hadn’t replied, she switched back to the beach. To the cats exploring freely, she said: “Everyone come to the plaza, stay away from the forest side. I’m going to conjure a house for you.”

Ji Mianmian had seen Shuo Yu conjure the vending machines, but she was still curious, watching with wide eyes while tending to the kittens. With a loud boom, dust flew in the plaza, and a towering, square shadow appeared before the cats.

A three-story wooden house now stood by the forest. It was several times larger than the medical station, with an elegant style and fresh wood—it looked very impressive. Shuo Yu tapped the screen near Little White and Little Flower, who were nearly “bottlebrushed” with fright: “Go to the second floor and pick your rooms. Remember to pick one for One-Eye too.”

Ji Mianmian lifted her maid skirt, twirled happily, and said excitedly, “Then I’ll go with them!”

“Don’t be in such a hurry, I have something to say.”

Shuo Yu put her phone on the table and stepped back so the camera could capture her whole upper body. She ran a hand through her hair, letting the wavy locks slide through her fingers. With a smile and a gentlemanly bow toward Ji Mianmian, she reached out her right hand and clicked the screen to present the completed interaction card. “My favorite little cat, Ji Mianmian, may I invite you to go pearl fishing in the sea tomorrow morning at eight?”

The bubbles over the little figure’s head changed frantically. First confusion, then surprise and joy, and somehow a little “lustful” heart-eyes emoji mixed in. Just as Shuo Yu wondered if her favorability was too low, a sweet, soft voice came from the speaker: “I can!”

Halfway through the gesture, Shuo Yu had felt a bit of regret, feeling like a “middle-schooler” pretending to be a magical girl in public. But once it was done, she felt great! If she couldn’t show her true nature to a 2D character on her phone, life would be meaningless!

Ever since the [Pearl Fishing Card] was completed, Shuo Yu had been rehearsing the invitation in her head. She was very satisfied with the result. Having a 2D wife who responded at any time was true happiness! She would go along with all of Shuo Yu’s weirdness, triggering a happy dopamine hit.

Shuo Yu took her phone back and said with a grin, “Mianmian doesn’t need to choose a room. There’s only one master bedroom in the cottage, and it belongs to you.”

That evening, Shen Zhiyin wasn’t home, so Shuo Yu ordered takeout. While waiting, she checked Cat Island Diary. One-Eye was still in the medical station. Seeing Shuo Yu, it meowed a greeting: “Good afternoon! I’m thinking about a new name. I don’t want to be called One-Eye once my eye is fixed. Do you think ‘Cui Cui’ or ‘Hong Hong’ sounds better?”

One-Eye once had a proper name, but that name no longer belonged to it after it lost its eye, so it wanted a total change. Shuo Yu didn’t agree with either name; except for Ji Mianmian, every cat name she knew was very casual. “If you want a name based on color, I think ‘A-Jin’ is good. Your eyes are golden and very beautiful.”

Then she looked for Ji Mianmian and found her gathering in the forest with the kittens. Now that they were “her” cats, the things they gathered went straight into the material storage in the cottage. Although it felt a bit like child labor, the feeling of automatically gathering materials while offline was great. Shuo Yu bought them some snacks as a reward.

After eating her takeout, Shuo Yu frowned at the leftover bean sprouts from her boiled pork and put the trash outside. Opening the game again, a string of prompts appeared:

Maintenance Announcement: Based on player suggestions, Cat Island Diary has decided to undergo 12-hour maintenance. Evil spirits will not appear during this time. Please rest assured. Maintenance compensation will be distributed after 12 hours.

Shuo Yu raised her eyebrows. She had never seen a game company pull the plug for maintenance immediately just because of a player’s opinion. But a small studio is a small studio—no advance notice, and a 12-hour shutdown was far too long!

Remembering something, she checked the top left of her phone. Phew. It was 19:16. The 12-hour maintenance wouldn’t interfere with going pearl fishing with Mianmian tomorrow morning.

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