Chapter 12 — The Illusion of Spring Peaches

Little Mao lunged forward, desperately trying to sink its small teeth into the man's trouser leg, letting out a weak, pitiful bark. Smack! A thunderous fist smashed directly into its head. The tiny body went airborne, slamming violently against the wall before tumbling to the floor, a faint streak of blood bubbling from its mouth. "You worthless mutt! I am disciplining my own child, and you dare to stick your nose in?!" Tran Hao was only seventeen back then, his eyes bloodshot, his trembling hands picking up a shattered glass bottle. With a sharp crash, the man collapsed onto the floor. Tran Hao clutched Little Mao tightly to his chest, his tears mixing with warm blood. "Let us go, Little Mao... We are leaving this place... and we are never coming back..."

Memories flashed past like a fast-forwarded film—Tran Hao escaping his hometown, wandering the city alongside Little Mao. He had worked as a restaurant busboy, lugged heavy bricks on construction sites, and delivered packages through the freezing midnight air. Every single drop of sweat, every scar etched into his hands, was solely to keep Little Mao by his side. When Little Mao fell gravely ill, the veterinarian stated it required a glandular tumor surgery. "Doctor... will the operation save it?" "It is possible. But the surgical fee... eight thousand." I envisioned Tran Hao standing before the employment agency, his eyes red and raw, his voice hoarse. "I only need to work for a month... and I will have eight thousand, right?" The middle-aged man from his memory offered a shady smile, sliding a contract across the table. "Rest assured. Work for one month, the factory pays four thousand, and we will cover the remaining four thousand. Just sign your name here." Tran Hao signed with a trembling hand, his mind focused entirely on a single thought: "Little Mao... hold on... I am going to save you."

Yet it was all a trap. A vicious deception. On the day the veterinarian scheduled the operation, the money had never arrived. He rushed to confront the agency for his wages, only for the scoundrel to swallow the entire eight thousand. The weather was bitter, so Tran Hao wrapped Little Mao inside his jacket, crouching beside a wall in the abandoned industrial district. "Wait for me, Little Mao... just get through tonight... I will find a way..." But that very night, the dark alleyways of the southern district echoed with the chilling sound of a blade slicing through bone. Tran Hao killed the agent. Little Mao witnessed everything, its frail body trembling, its panicked eyes reflecting a blood-soaked Tran Hao.

The memory shattered. I snapped back to reality, drenched in a cold sweat, my fingers instinctively digging into the concrete floor. "Little Mao!!!" Tran Hao embraced its limp body desperately, blood from its chest soaking through his shirt. I saw Little Mao’s lips twitching, its entire frame shaking, and within my mind, a fragile voice echoed: "Master... do not kill anymore... Little Mao... is so tired... I just want to sleep..." Tran Hao froze as if struck by lightning, his entire body stiffening as hot tears cascaded down Little Mao's face. "Do not sleep... do not leave me... Little Mao..." Behind him, the police advanced, their voices cold. "Tran Hao, drop the knife. Do not let Little Mao die in vain." He slowly turned his head, his eyes utterly hollow, whispering into the chilling wind. "If not for me... Little Mao would never have died..."

I clenched my fists, pleading softly toward the officers: "Do not provoke him... he will lower the knife... because of Little Mao." But at that exact moment, a chilling voice echoed from behind: "Do not dream of it, Tran Hao. You owe a debt to the Flying Eagle Guild... today... you must pay." I whipped my head around. A group of men bearing hawk tattoos emerged onto the rooftop, brandishing iron pipes and switchblades. Tran Hao’s face turned deathly pale as he tightened his grip on the long blade, his voice rasping out: "Die if I must... but absolutely no one touches Little Mao!" "Bang! Bang!" Two gunshots tore through the air. Tran Hao’s body jolted, stumbling backward twice before collapsing heavily onto the freezing concrete. Dark crimson blood spilled from the corners of his mouth, his breathing growing shallow and fractured, his gaze never once leaving the fading Little Mao nearby.

Trembling, I stepped forward, gently lifting Little Mao and placing it into his embrace. Tran Hao’s blood-stained fingers weakly stroked its matted fur. His voice was cracked, whispering a single word as fragile as the wind: "...Little Mao..." Little Mao forced its head upward, giving its master's hand a gentle lick, its eyes still brimming with absolute, unwavering trust. Then... within his arms, the two of them drifted into an eternal slumber.

Everything finally settled. After a thorough investigation, the police concluded the full truth of the matter. It turned out that Tran Hao had never chosen me by sheer coincidence. After leaving the factory, he worked as a courier for a delivery company, coincidentally handling the district belonging to Sister Wang—a loyal livestream viewer of mine. Through casual conversation, he learned she watched my channel and even intended to mail me a small box of dried fish. From that moment onward... he silently memorized my address, plotting my abduction solely under the delusion that I possessed enough wealth to cure Little Mao. On the day of his arrest, beside Little Mao's lifeless body, authorities recovered a crumpled, unsent letter: "Nana, thank you for teaching me how to understand Little Mao. Because of that, I learned it is afraid of the dark and dislikes sleeping near the window. ...If it were possible... I would have loved to hear it call me 'master' in a human voice, just like the pets in your livestream."

I stood frozen in place for a long while. Perhaps... from the very beginning, Tran Hao had never truly intended to harm me.

A few days later, I ran into Young Master Li. He remained reticent, the wounds on his hands halfway healed. Lowering my gaze, I spoke with genuine sincerity: "Young Master Li... truly, thank you for saving me." He scratched the back of his head, feigning nonchalance. "Think nothing of it. Consider it... a survival adventure." Mid-sentence, he hesitated, casting a sideways glance. "Hey... Nana, next time... are you free to join me for a meal?" The evening breeze rustled past, and I noticed the tips of his ears burning bright red. I pretended to fall silent for a full second, then lowered my tone, bringing a hand up to cover half my lips: "Actually... I used to be a man. But later... I took a trip to Thailand..."

Young Master Li's jaw dropped, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. "What... what?! But your chest... it is so big?!" I nodded, keeping a completely deadpan expression. "Surgically enhanced."

One second of silence. Two seconds... Then— "YOU LYING FRAUD!!!" I clutched my stomach, doubling over with laughter so violent I nearly tumbled off the stone bench.

Several months later. The weather turned crisp and cool, a fine, misty drizzle drifting through the air. I carried a bag of freshly bought soybean milk and fried dough sticks from the end of the street, quietly reciting the content list for tonight's livestream. As I walked home, the chilly wind slipped down my collar, causing me to shiver slightly. Suddenly, a tender, babyish "woof" reached my ears. I turned my head to see two small, brown puppies huddled together beside an old cardboard box. One stared with wary, vigilant eyes, while the other leaned weakly against its sibling. In that fleeting moment, the image of Little Mao flashed across my memory like a distant shadow. I bent down, a soft smile touching my lips as I scooped up the box. "Let us go home... we are... meeting again."

All the loss and sorrow... would one day be mended by a new encounter. Just as A Lee used to say: "Every regret... will eventually find its reunion."

Another routine day of livestreaming. On the other side of the screen, a young girl tightly cradled a plump, orange tabby cat, her face beaming with eager anticipation: "Sister, could you please talk to my Chubby Orange for me? Lately, it keeps hiding my snacks—cat treats, cat strips, even cans of wet food I open for it, it secretly drags them away and hides them somewhere I cannot find. But the strange thing is... a few days later, I keep discovering empty snack wrappers and empty cans tucked away in the corners of the house. Could you please tell it that if it wants to eat something, I will gladly give it more, there is no need to hide them... cleaning up is so exhausting."

【So true, pets love hoarding food! My place is the exact same, the dog hides bones under the bed.】
【Seriously though, wet food left hidden too long gets stinky real fast, poor owner!】
【This cat looks so round and adorable, it definitely is not lacking food, right?】

I stared intently at the chunky orange feline for a few seconds, narrowed my eyes slightly, and calmly announced: "It is not just hiding food... it is also hiding... its girlfriend at home."

"Huh?!"—the girl's eyes went wide.
【HUH???】
【Hold on, am I hearing human words right now?】
【Could this cat actually have a girlfriend?】

"Meow-ooo!!!" Chubby Orange suddenly let out an alarmed, warning shriek, then... guiltily darted a flustered glance toward the girl.
【Oh my goodness, that guilty reaction definitely confirms a secret lover!】
【I am dying of laughter, my own cat has been single for seasons and still cannot find anyone!】
【Good lord, we are witnessing cat infidelity right here on a livestream!】

I gave a light hum, my lips curling into a wicked smile. "Little brat, you dare threaten me? Then let me fill you in on a secret." Shifting my gaze back to the girl, I gave a subtle nod of my chin. "Go open the wardrobe in the bedroom, bottom shelf, deepest corner... its girlfriend is hiding right in there."

The girl froze for a couple of seconds, then nervously padded toward the bedroom. The wardrobe doors creaked open. The bottom shelf was shrouded in darkness, but from within the shadows... a soft, faint "meow~" drifted out. Reaching to the nightstand for a flashlight, she shone the beam directly into the compartment. Immediately—illuminated in the glow was a petite calico cat, curled tightly against the corner, its tear-filled eyes trembling like dewdrops.

【Oh my god, there is actually a cat in there!!!】
【This Chubby Orange bro is too smooth, sneaking his girlfriend home to hide her.】
【This little calico is so pretty, the ultimate definition of a homewrecking beauty.】
【I ship this couple, honestly. Can we feature them both on the stream?】

Using a cat stick as bait, the girl coaxed the timid calico out of the corner, gently lifting it into a soft cat bed while carefully opening a fresh can of pate mixed with fragrant goat milk. The calico obediently lowered its ears, sitting quietly in a corner, slowly nibbling on the food while occasionally casting round, sparkling glances toward Chubby Orange, who had been forced to sit aside and reflect on his misdeeds.