After I Started Working at a Pet Kindergarten - Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Six o’clock arrived in the blink of an eye. It was time to take the dogs home.
I stopped at the hospital to visit Sangbiao first. He was noisily devouring canned food and muttering through every bite.
[Just wait. Once Cat heals, if Cat doesn’t skin that bastard alive, Cat will write his name backward!]
He finished the can and let out a series of gruff meows.
[Human! More! Human! Cat can eat two more cans! Human!]
The noise made my temples throb.
“You haven’t recovered yet. You can’t eat too much.”
The instant he heard me, Sangbiao’s voice cut off. He turned his head, mouth still half open, and let out a dainty mew.
[All right, Human.]
He rubbed his head against the cage. [Human, pet Cat. Pet Cat.]
I reached through the bars to stroke him and laughed. “Why do you have two completely different faces?”
Sangbiao pretended not to understand.
[Human, what do you mean? Cat doesn’t understand.]
[Cat saw you give them lots of red bills yesterday. Once Cat gets better, Cat will pay you back.]
[Human, cuddles~]
I petted him for a long while. Sangbiao narrowed his eyes in bliss and purred.
I patted his little head. “I’ll visit again tomorrow. Be good, rest, and eat properly, okay?”
He licked my hand. [Cat knows, Human.]
When I left the hospital, the dogs asked how he was.
“Don’t worry. He’s doing well. He gets two cans a day.”
That reassured them.
I followed the morning route and delivered each dog home. Once again, Million was last.
I was eager to see who his “Old Man” was.
I had attended middle and high school here, then moved away. Between college and work, I had lived in Hai City and hadn’t been back in almost seven years.
At his apartment door, Million stood on his hind legs and touched his nose to the fingerprint lock.
The door clicked open.
[Come in, miss. Make yourself at home. Old Man must be baking cookies in the kitchen.]
[His cookies are really good.]
A man spoke from inside, unhurried and calm. “Million’s home? Invite your teacher in. I just baked some cookies…”
He stepped out of the kitchen and froze the moment he saw me.
He wore loose beige loungewear and an apron, looking gentle and domestic.
“Chen Lanyue.”
Delight flared in his eyes before he quickly subdued it.
“So you’re Million’s new teacher. Do you remember me?”
I studied his refined, handsome face, searching my memory for a name to match it. In the end, I could only shake my head.
“I’m sorry.”
His smile didn’t falter. He introduced himself warmly.
“I’m Lin Xunan. We went to high school together and were in the same graduation photo. My grades weren’t very good then, so you probably never noticed me.”
I returned a polite smile.
“Would you like to come in? You can try the new cookies I’ve been developing.”
Million joined in. [Come eat, miss! Dog isn’t lying. Old Man is really good at baking.]
I shook my head. “Next time. Million is home, and my workday is over.”
Lin Xunan didn’t press me. He stood at the door and watched until I stepped into the elevator.
As the doors closed, I faintly heard his excited voice.
“It’s her, Million. It’s really her! I thought I’d never have a chance to see her again, but… Still, why did she suddenly come back?”
Million sounded aloof. [Hmph. Flatter me a little, and I’ll help you find out tomorrow.]
“Million~ Good dog~”
The elevator descended, carrying me beyond earshot.
I opened my phone and found the high school group chat I had muted for years.
Lin Xunan’s name was there.
And I truly had no memory of him.
My three years of high school had coincided with my parents’ divorce and my bitter fights with both of them. I had poured everything into studying and escaping. I hadn’t had the time to notice anyone else.
I exhaled and was about to close the app when I spotted a trending topic about someone poisoning cats.
It was today’s incident.
That afternoon, I had asked the police what would happen. They said they could only give the poisoner a verbal warning, then send the dead cats for cremation. Nothing more.
I had thought that was the end of it, and the helpless anger had eaten at me for hours.
But someone had uploaded surveillance footage of the poisoning, and it had exploded online. The comments were full of condemnation and demands for justice.
Even the breeder of the silver-shaded British Shorthair spoke out. Their cats had been trained since they were young and were famously gentle. If one had risked a beating to steal food from a stray tabby, it must have been desperately hungry.
Together with the poisoning, this convinced the breeder that the buyer neither loved nor properly cared for the cat—and might even be abusing it. They vowed to take it back, even if they had to sue. They would never leave it in such hands.
Someone exposed the poisoner’s name and apartment number.
His name was Cheng Yang, and he lived in this very building.
The elevator chimed as it reached the ground floor.
I stepped out, passing a man as he entered. A hood covered his head, and his face was lowered.
I paid him no attention at first.
But the instant I crossed the threshold, I heard a nearly inaudible scoff behind me.
It was cold enough to make every hair on my body rise.
I looked back. The man was pressing an elevator button without glancing at me.
I hurried out of the complex, unease crawling over my skin.
I had saved Sangbiao. I had called the police.
Now that Cheng Yang was being torn apart online, I would be the first person he blamed.
I decided I shouldn’t drive the pickup route for a while. Safety came first.
When I returned, I told Dad what had happened. His expression grew grave.
“Don’t worry. I’ll handle the pickups. You stay inside the kindergarten. There are guards and cameras here. He won’t dare do anything reckless.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
After a moment’s thought, he said, “Why don’t you move in with us? I don’t like the idea of you going home alone after work.”
I lowered my eyes.
Although I had returned and was working for Dad, I rented my own place instead of staying in his home.
He had a wife. A daughter.
I was an outsider.
“Lanyue.”
I considered it, then nodded.
“Okay.”
Safety came first.
