Chapter 51: Long-Haired Calico Cat
Xia He’s sulking ended up having consequences: the next day, Gu Qinghuan received a message from Bai Hanshan saying the student council had work for her. She was to stop by during the long break in the morning.
Last time, Gu Qinghuan hadn’t attended the meeting, yet plenty of assignments had been handed out—not that any of them had anything to do with her.
Honestly, all she had to do was follow school rules and avoid harming the student council’s image.
The other members already knew of her existence, but showed no rejection or dislike.
After all, Gu Qinghuan always kept quietly to herself in her own office, never meddled in other departments’ work, and never interfered with anyone’s interests—so they could just pretend she wasn’t there.
A few people had been curious, but after sneaking a glance and seeing nothing special, they lost interest.
The only awkward encounters were when they ran into Xia He—then they’d scatter like startled birds. So the president’s “special someone” got in through the back door, huh?
Thinking about it that way, Gu Qinghuan’s “quiet” presence suddenly didn’t seem so bad.
Of course, Gu Qinghuan herself had no idea what was going through their heads.
She only noticed that Bai Hanshan looked rather troubled.
“Senior Bai,” she ventured, “is something wrong?”
Bai Hanshan sighed from his seat. “You’ve got a cat in your office?”
That Xia He guy—being removed from the group chat wasn’t the same as being unfriended or blocked, so why throw a tantrum? And then to make Bai Hanshan play the “bad guy”? Petty.
At Bai Hanshan’s question, Gu Qinghuan sat up straighter. “Yes… just a kitten. My friend’s taking care of it.”
“Don’t be nervous, I’m not blaming you,” Bai Hanshan reassured her. “Other departments have people keeping hamsters or goldfish. As long as it’s well managed, it’s not against the rules.”
Relieved, Gu Qinghuan asked, “Then what’s this about?”
“Do you have any rescue experience?” Bai Hanshan asked instead of answering directly.
“Sort of,” she said carefully. “Back in junior high, my friends and I used to do stray animal rescues—mostly cats.”
The city already had a stray dog shelter program, so encounters with stray dogs were rare.
“Here’s the thing,” Bai Hanshan began, “there’s a long-haired calico cat on campus. It’s been here for several years, and every year it gives birth to one or two litters of kittens.”
“Although we’ve tried to get the kittens adopted by loving people, the constant births are a burden—and not good for the mother cat either. We want to catch it for spaying, and ideally find it a home.”
“But it’s very wary and aggressive. We’ve never managed to catch it, so we thought we’d have you try.”
A long-haired calico—one of the famous “great beauties” of the cat world.
Gu Qinghuan thought about it, then asked, “Have you tried professional trapping teams? Or using a cat trap cage?”
“As I said, it’s highly alert. At the sight of strangers, it bolts,” Bai Hanshan explained. “It recognizes our school uniforms and will only approach students. Since students feed it regularly, it’s never hungry—and naturally won’t fall for a trap cage.”
“Any students it’s close to?” she asked.
Bai Hanshan shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
He was being careful—Mingde High was a big school, and not every student’s movements were known to the council.
Maybe some students were secretly close with the calico, but if they never came forward, the council couldn’t know.
“Is this a mandatory task?” Gu Qinghuan asked cautiously.
“No, just see if you can help,” he said. “You’re a student first, even if you’re in the council. If you succeed, great. If you fail, you won’t be blamed. Your main focus should still be on your studies—especially with the monthly exams at the end of the month.”
Gu Qinghuan’s expression collapsed. Bai Hanshan’s lecturing tone was way too much like a teacher or a parent.
She pulled herself together. “I understand. I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Oh, and for the cat-catching supplies, here’s two thousand yuan to start. If you need more, I’ll approve it,” Bai Hanshan said casually.
Back in class, with the two thousand from the Life Department in her pocket, Gu Qinghuan was still a little dazed.
“What did the council want with you?” Qin Yue asked when he saw her like that.
“They want me to catch a cat,” she whispered, pulling the money from her pocket. “And they gave me two thousand for expenses.”
Qin Yue wasn’t impressed by the money, but the fact that the council handed it over so readily gave him a good impression. “What kind of cat?”
She explained everything in detail. Qin Yue thought for a moment. “When our club does morning practice, we often see a calico cat passing by. Don’t know if it’s the one you’re after.”
Gu Qinghuan pulled up the photo Bai Hanshan had sent and showed him. “This one?”
He looked closely. “Seems like it, but I’m not totally sure. I’ll keep an eye out next time.”
Even if it was the same cat, the idea of waking up early to catch it felt like disrespecting the deep bond between her and her bed.
She decided to post the cat’s photo in the class group instead, asking her classmates to help. No need to report to her—just send a photo with the location if they saw it.
Plenty of people claimed they’d seen it.
Bao Qingsong: Class rep, is this your cat?
Gu Qinghuan: No, the student council gave me this job. I need to catch it for spaying, and hopefully find it an adopter.
Zhan Chuchen: Can students adopt?
Zhan Chuchen was the tallest girl in the class—an even 1.8 meters. Rumor had it she’d been a powerhouse on her junior high basketball team, and now she was in Mingde’s basketball club.
The club wasn’t separated by gender—training plans were split into basic and additional modules, and members could choose their own extras. With dedicated coaches, there was no worry about overtraining.
Qin Yue had mentioned that Zhan Chuchen’s physical fitness ranked among the top in the club.
Gu Qinghuan: Should be fine. The kittens it had before were all adopted out on campus.
Gu Qinghuan: But it depends on whether the cat takes to you—it’s said to be quite fierce.
Zhan Chuchen replied with an “OK” emoji, clearly ready for action.
Gu Qinghuan didn’t mention any rewards for tips—partly because it was hard to set fair standards, and partly because other classes might complain.
Better to wait until the cat was caught and then, under the pretext of “celebrating the mission’s success,” give small gifts to those who’d helped.
Just as she was thinking that, Yu Xin returned. Gu Qinghuan greeted her. “How’s the kitten?”
During class, Yu Xin couldn’t take care of it, so she checked in during the long break and lunch.
“It’s fine, except…” Yu Xin looked puzzled. “There’s a big cat outside the window, staring at it.”
Gu Qinghuan froze for a few seconds, then silently pulled up the photo. “This one?”
Yu Xin glanced at it and confirmed immediately. “Yes, exactly—the markings on its face are identical!”
Gu Qinghuan: Talk about ‘searching high and low, only to find it with no effort at all’!
