Chapter 2

When I got home and opened the door, Zhuozhuo jumped over to me.

Zhuozhuo is the cat my brother and I raised.

It’s a rather independent little tabby.

I still remember the first time my brother brought it home-it was just a tiny ball, curled up in his arms.

It seemed a bit malnourished, and my brother and I worked hard to raise it.

But after it grew up, Zhuozhuo loved running outside.

We had school and couldn’t keep an eye on it, so it gradually started hunting outside, coming back every few days just to check in on us.

Maybe it’s because of this that I still get to see it, and have a little something that belongs to my brother.

When did Zhuozhuo start waiting obediently at home for me to come back?

It seems it was only about a month ago.

I crouched down and petted its head, muttering to myself, “So you know I’m dying soon?”

Of course Zhuozhuo didn’t answer. It lightly jumped into my arms and curled up comfortably.

I held it, poured out some cat food, and went to open the fridge.

The fridge was a bit empty-just two boxes of uncooked dumplings and a few bags of wontons.

On top were sticky notes written by Fu Ziyi, scrawled instructions for how long to cook them.

His handwriting is a bit messy.

I took out a bag of wontons, and just as I was boiling water, I got a second call from He Wei.

He was bored-after one number got blocked, he just switched to another.

Annoyed by the ringing, I answered.

He Wei’s voice mixed with the bubbling sound of the boiling water. He said, “Dad is sick.”

I said, “And?”

He Wei paused, then said, “He wants to see you.”

The water boiled. I tossed the wontons in, steam swirling up.

Tired, I said, “I’m not a doctor. Seeing me won’t help. I’m hanging up.”

“Wait,” He Wei said quickly, “Even if you’re still mad at us, Dad’s always been good to you, right? He’s sick-can’t you at least come see him?”

My finger hovered over the phone screen. I didn’t reply, just pressed hang up.