Inertial Dependence - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Friend Oolong

Seeing that Pei Yuxi’s alt account had approved the friend request, An Chixu sent a video of Orange walking around.

“She’s very energetic~ It looks like we don’t need to worry. I put out cat food for her, but she hasn’t eaten yet; she might not be hungry.”

An Chixu was reporting her work dutifully.

With Orange boarded at her house, she earned five thousand a month. This was why she suspected Pei Yuxi’s family was quite wealthy. An Chixu treated caring for Orange as a win-win side hustle, so naturally, she was responsive to every request.

As she sent the message, Orange finally walked over to her. The little cat was truly friendly; after sniffing around her feet and circling a few times, it let out a meow and flopped over, exposing its belly to An Chixu.

An Chixu was momentarily stunned. This was her first time raising a cat, and she had never dealt with small animals before.

Is it right for a cat to do this? Is the floor too cold for its back? With its belly up, could it be experiencing digestive discomfort? And most importantly…

Can she touch it?

An Chixu stood frozen for two seconds, her brain stalling, before finally deciding to film a video and send it to Pei Yuxi. She didn’t dare touch Orange randomly—it was someone else’s cat, after all. She was also afraid that over these three months of boarding, she might accidentally let Orange get sick.

Yan Ciwei received two videos and several messages. At that moment, she was in her car studying her new friend’s profile picture.

The avatar was a photo of the ocean. It looked like the account owner wasn’t young. However, the messages were full of stickers and emoticons, which was a very “young person” thing to do.

Yan Ciwei wasn’t ready to confirm her suspicions yet. This set of ocean photos was very popular on the internet; anyone could use it as an avatar. How could she assume it was An Chixu just because An Chixu followed the photographer?

Before clicking the video, Yan Ciwei laughed at her own absurdity. To think she had approved a friend request just because of a common profile picture—how much did she actually miss An Chixu? Her heart and her logic couldn’t agree. She just had to pay the price for that yearning.

Yan Ciwei watched the video. It turned out that “Orange” was a golden long-haired cat.

It seemed a cat owner had added her by mistake. It wasn’t someone looking for a blind date. Her “Tuantuan” had never mentioned wanting a pet; what a shame, this account probably wasn’t An Chixu’s.

Except…

Yan Ciwei looked closer at the cat. The more she looked, the more familiar it seemed. After getting out of the car, she was still studying the video, her walking slowed to a crawl. A two-minute walk took ten.

Before opening her front door, Yan Ciwei suddenly looked up, struck by a realization. She had seen this cat before—on her cousin Pei Yuxi’s social feed.

Yan Ciwei opened Pei Yuxi’s moments and indeed found the exact same cat. Golden long hair, black paws, a black line down its back, and a patch of missing fur on its tail.

Case closed.

Her cousin was starting summer break and looking for someone to board the cat. It was likely that because her cousin used different accounts for school and personal life, she had accidentally pushed Yan Ciwei’s contact info—mistaking it for a secondary account—to the person boarding the cat.

At least it wasn’t a “bad friend” coming to mock her breakup by pushing a blind date on her.

Yan Ciwei thought for two seconds. Even if there was only a one-in-ten-thousand chance that the person on the other side was An Chixu, she couldn’t let it go.

Yan Ciwei quickly changed her avatar and ID. She felt a slight pang of reluctance when touching the numbers in the ID, but she was decisive. She opened a brand-new WeChat account, saved the boarding person’s avatar and ID, and sent a friend request to Pei Yuxi’s alt account.

Two minutes later, the request was approved. Yan Ciwei forwarded the video and the question.

In a university classroom, Pei Yuxi—who was currently in a heated debate with student union members—opened her phone to see a message from the gentle young lady, Orange’s temporary mom.

“[Video][Video] She’s showing her belly. Is she sick?”

The tone was as cold as someone who had been standing in the rain for three days and nights during the monsoon.

“…” Pei Yuxi replied with a string of ellipses.

Why do cats show their bellies…

Because of trust, comfort, and liking you, obviously! How could she be sick? What kind of cat shows its belly when it’s sick? Is she a goldfish?!

Fake cat lover! Pei Yuxi grumbled in her heart. She had misjudged her; she thought that because the person provided good material conditions, they must love cats. She vowed to convince her mothers to let her bring poor Orange back sooner. They had plenty of houses; they could just move to one where no one lived to avoid the allergy issues.

An Chixu didn’t understand why the cat showed its belly, and Pei Yuxi didn’t reply again. Later, seeing Orange flip back over and happily eat her food looking perfectly healthy, An Chixu stopped worrying.

She left her guest room door open, hoping the little cat would come play with her that night. However, she didn’t get to see Orange patrol her bedroom; days of sleep deprivation had left her exhausted, and she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

Perhaps because there was a new little life in the house, An Chixu slept soundly all night despite the unexpected run-in with her ex. During the night, Orange nudged open her door, wandered in recklessly, and even meowed twice at the stranger on the bed, but the stranger—An Chixu herself—didn’t notice a thing.

An Chixu almost overslept. It wasn’t until the alarm went off for the third time that she finally jolted awake. She hurriedly changed Orange’s food, scooped the litter, and—facing Orange’s upward, expectant gaze—failed to give her a pat. Then, grabbing some bread, she rushed out of the house to catch the morning meeting.

Habitually eating breakfast while walking briskly, she arrived at the building. Without even dropping off her things, she took her laptop upstairs for the meeting.

When her group arrived, Yan Ciwei was already sitting in the head seat of the long table. An Chixu didn’t give her a second look, finding a seat near the back with the intern, Tian Ming, and looking at the projection screen.

“Sister An, President Yan is actually here today,” Tian Ming whispered, her voice almost an audible breath. To make sure An Chixu heard, she leaned in very close. The meeting room was quiet but surrounded by ambient noise; no one else heard her.

An Chixu’s face remained impassive as she gave the intern a look.

“Don’t discuss her in private,” An Chixu mouthed.

In truth, if not for their past relationship, An Chixu would have realized her reaction was slightly over the top. But since she was technically Yan Ciwei’s subordinate, this reminder had a reasonable explanation.

Tian Ming thought for a moment and sent An Chixu a message.

“Is President Yan very fierce? I feel like you’re a bit afraid of her ><“

An Chixu almost laughed out loud when she saw the message.

Fierce?

In a brief daze, An Chixu’s eyes inexplicably met Yan Ciwei’s, only to look away an instant later. Yan Ciwei wasn’t exactly fierce; on the contrary, she was quite gentle. Don’t be fooled by the cold aura she was radiating now, looking like she was ready to scold everyone in the room.

In private, Yan Ciwei was somewhat slow-paced and free-spirited, able to get along with anyone quickly. She was just…

Extremely overbearing.

The meeting began. An Chixu lowered her head to take notes, not replying to Tian Ming and letting her continue her misunderstanding.

“Before we start the meeting, I want to address one issue,” Yan Ciwei spoke up, legs crossed, before the group leader could go up to report on the new show’s preparation. She leaned forward slightly, her brows sharp and her mouth set in a tight line, but there was no tension in her eyes—only a sense of casualness.

A single movement lowered the atmospheric pressure in the room, making the people below afraid to breathe.

“Off-clock hours. Tang Shu, your group was still busy at 8:00 PM last night. Is the workload too heavy to finish during work hours?” Yan Ciwei’s tone wasn’t aggressive. Long-term leadership had imbued her with a natural authority. Those who have held power for a long time don’t find it special; they are naturally temperate, yet their words cannot be ignored.

Tang Shu lowered her head, clearly not expecting Yan Ciwei to mention this today. With new talent shows launching, variety shows for previous groups, and various dramas being filmed, it was a busy time. How could they finish without overtime?

An Chixu finished recording Yan Ciwei’s words, feeling slightly surprised. It seemed that after she had slipped away yesterday, Yan Ciwei had returned to her office.

…How rare. Yan Ciwei almost never went to the 17th floor; that was their unspoken agreement. But Yan Ciwei had broken that rule last night.

So, why did she want to talk to her?

That didn’t seem important. An Chixu dismissed the thought after a split second, ignoring Yan Ciwei’s subtle peripheral gaze and listening to her criticize Tang Shu, the group leader.

The meeting lasted an hour and a half. Yan Ciwei was usually too busy to personally attend meetings. With her providing directions, efficiency increased significantly.

As the meeting ended, An Chixu packed her things. She still had to train Tian Ming today; with such a heavy task, it was unlikely she wouldn’t work overtime.

“The assistant producer… who took notes for Tang Shu’s group? Stay behind.” Yan Ciwei’s voice broke into An Chixu’s thoughts.

Countless eyes turned toward An Chixu, the weight of their gazes pressing on her back. Only Yan Ciwei didn’t look up, acting as if she didn’t even know the assistant producer she had ordered to stay.

An Chixu finally focused her pupils and looked toward Yan Ciwei.

Support Inertial Dependence