Chapter 58: Holiday
Gu Qinghuan’s National Day holiday was spent happily. Her family had chosen to go eat and shop in a neighboring province that had a direct high-speed rail station.
They booked a late-night train; the ride took less than two hours. Once they got off, they headed straight for the hotel, then slept until the morning market opened.
Waking up early was a bit painful, but the market’s delicious food quickly cured any drowsiness.
The tofu pudding was fresh and silky, without the slightest beany smell. The shop also sold soy milk—freshly ground, fragrant, sweet, and rich, with the bean dregs strained away completely.
At the bun shop, when the steamer lid was lifted, thick clouds of steam shot up to the ceiling. A fresh bun, bitten into, revealed soft dough wrapped around a juicy filling. It was hot enough to burn the mouth, but her tongue refused to let go of the deliciousness, so she chewed quickly and swallowed.
Gu Qinghuan especially liked the red date cake from a certain Chinese pastry shop. When fresh out of the oven, its fragrance could be smelled from half a street away, and just inhaling it made you imagine its sweet, soft, and glutinous taste.
She even came across a stall selling boneless fried chicken strips she’d eaten as a child. Unlike today’s fried chicken with a thick, scaly crust, these were coated in a thin layer of starch, fried to a golden yellow, and drizzled with a bit of sauce—tender and soft to the bite.
The three of them—her family—ate their way from one end of the market to the other. When they finally left, each of them was still carrying leftover snacks.
They strolled back to the hotel, eating as they went, and by the time they reached the entrance, they had just finished. With satisfied burps, they lay back down for a second nap.
Their daily schedule during the trip was basically: eat, sleep, wake up, eat again. They weren’t in a rush to sightsee, but if they passed an interesting-looking shop, they’d go in for a look and buy some local specialties.
From time to time, Gu Qinghuan would take photos of the food and post them on her Moments, also checking her classmates’ posts.
Everyone seemed to be having a lively National Day holiday. Qin Yue even left her a comment:
[Ahhh! This is all your fault! Nothing I eat tastes good anymore!]
See? Local food was clearly more suited to her taste! Feeling smug, Gu Qinghuan sent Qin Yue dozens of close-up HD food pictures in a private chat.
Qin Yue replied with several voice messages, each over ten seconds long, complaining about her cruelty—none of which Gu Qinghuan intended to listen to.
When she returned home, there were only a day or two left of the holiday. Lazing in bed, she was scrolling on her phone when she saw a pet blogger’s video, which reminded her of Sesame. She sent Yu Xin a message:
[How’s Sesame?]
During National Day, Mingde High didn’t close its gates, but the cafeteria wasn’t open. Yu Xin had already told Yu Wenli about Sesame, so bringing the kitten home wasn’t a problem. After exams ended, Yu Xin had taken Sesame home.
Yu Xin wasn’t the type to post on Moments, and she hadn’t sent Gu Qinghuan any messages these past few days, so Qinghuan assumed Sesame had settled into its new room and decided to ask.
After more than ten minutes, Yu Xin sent a photo—Sesame was lying on the floor, its lower half hidden under the hem of the curtain, with only the tip of its tail showing. It was sleeping soundly, the sunlight streaming through the gap under the curtain giving its fur a golden outline.
Gu Qinghuan: [Cute—]
Yu Xin: [It can already tumble and scramble around the room now.]
That phrase “tumble and scramble” was so vivid that just imagining it made Gu Qinghuan laugh.
Yu Xin earnestly reported Sesame’s status to her:
[It can drink milk on its own now, but it always gets its whole face messy—like washing its face while drinking.]
[It can already use the litter box on its own. Every time it’s done, it meows to hurry me to scoop it.]
[It sleeps most of the time, but when it wakes up, it staggers after me. If I call it, it comes over.]
[It likes hugging my slippers. When it keeps meowing, I just pet it and it stops—then it kneads my arm.]
Reading Yu Xin’s “report,” Gu Qinghuan couldn’t help but smile.
She could picture exactly how Yu Xin must have been feeling while typing those messages.
Yu Xin lacked love—Qinghuan knew this well. But she didn’t believe that love was something one must receive from others.
Everyone is born with the capacity to love—whether it’s loving oneself, loving others, loving animals, or even loving inanimate objects, certain ideals, or a spirit.
So, Gu Qinghuan fully supported Yu Xin raising a cat. As long as she learned how to express love, she would understand what kind of love she truly wanted.
With a goal, one could plan their future better!
Gu Qinghuan replied happily: [I bet your photo album is now full of Sesame pics and videos.]
Yu Xin: [Of course, it’s just too cute.]
Then Yu Xin sent several more photos of Sesame.
Gu Qinghuan couldn’t help but think—this was every new pet owner’s rite of passage!
After a moment, she asked:
[How does your family feel about Sesame?]
When she saw the new message, Yu Xin stopped scrolling through her gallery.
She had already informed Yu Wenli in advance, so when she brought Sesame home, Yu Wenli didn’t react—he didn’t care about the kitten, only reminding her to maintain good relations with Jiang Chuchu.
Cui Wanning seemed a little bothered, but since Yu Wenli had likely told her beforehand, she didn’t pay much attention either.
Yu Xin had overheard Cui Wanning complaining to a servant about cat fur, fleas, and odors, and how she didn’t understand why Yu Xin would choose this way to please Jiang Chuchu when there were so many other options.
It didn’t matter—Yu Xin had already guessed she would think that way. She just needed to make sure Cui Wanning never encountered Sesame.
Yu Jinxin didn’t care at all—saving Yu Xin a lot of trouble.
The only one she couldn’t read was Yu Yuan.
During this holiday, Yu Yuan had been passing by her door more often than usual. Sometimes, as soon as Yu Xin stepped out, she would “happen” to run into Yu Yuan walking past—carrying a glass of water, a fruit plate, always holding something as if it were coincidence.
But coincidences happening too often naturally aroused suspicion.
She had already ordered several types of security cameras online to install in the hallway corners, to see what Yu Yuan was really up to.
She also planned to set some up in her room to monitor Sesame when she wasn’t there.
She didn’t mind assuming the worst about Yu Yuan—because if Yu Yuan did anything, Sesame could be in danger. She wouldn’t gamble with its life on a “maybe.”
After briefly explaining each family member’s attitude toward the kitten to Gu Qinghuan, she quickly got a reply:
[Even though Yu Yuan’s behavior sounds strange, don’t forget to keep an eye on your stepmother.]
Yu Xin: [I know.]
After all, Cui Wanning had a “prior record.”
Yu Xin had asked Butler Zhao and learned that Yu Yuan had once picked up a stray cat as a child, but Cui Wanning had sent it away.
Butler Zhao hadn’t elaborated, but Yu Xin could guess—Cui Wanning likely hadn’t told Yu Yuan in advance.
Because according to Butler Zhao, Yu Jinxin had taken Yu Yuan to the zoo afterward, and only then had she stopped making a fuss.
Why had she made a fuss? Obviously because Cui Wanning had gotten rid of the cat without permission.
If Cui Wanning could send a cat away once, she could do it again.
But Yu Xin was already prepared to deal with it if that happened.
