After I Started Working at a Pet Kindergarten - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The way to deal with a dirty bastard, I decided, was to play dirtier.

I looked into Cheng Yang’s address and employment. After the poisoning went public, his company fired him and his landlord evicted him. Now he lived in a cheap hotel and spent his days stalking me.

After considering my options, I decided to reuse an old trick.

I paid a sex worker to seduce Cheng Yang, then report him for rape afterward.

Money could make the devil turn a millstone.

The scheme was vile, but effective.

What I didn’t expect was that, after she called the police, a crowd claiming to be her parents and brothers rushed in and beat Cheng Yang so badly that he couldn’t get out of bed.

The woman gave me a thumbs-up. “That was brutal—and so satisfying. I hate sickos who abuse cats and dogs more than anything.”

I smiled, but I was confused.

I hadn’t hired those people.

“I did.”

I turned around and found Dad behind me.

“Dad?”

Nerves twisted in my stomach.

He glared. “So you do remember I’m your father.

“You were in danger and didn’t even tell me. If I hadn’t kept an eye on that man after what you told me last time, I never would have known he’d been stalking you for so many days.”

Dad patted my arm. “I know you’re grown up, but a scumbag like that is your father’s problem to handle.

“Don’t worry. I’ve built a few connections here over the years. I’ll make sure you never see him again.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

Then I waited.

He said nothing more.

“Dad?”

“What else?”

“…”

“Nothing.”

I couldn’t understand it. Didn’t he think what I had done was… filthy?

In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

That evening, Dad invited me to dinner. Halfway through the meal, Mom suddenly video-called me.

I didn’t know whether I should answer.

Dad was the one who said, “Go ahead. It’s fine.”

Once we connected, I realized Mom already knew what had happened. Dad had obviously told her.

Her eyes were a little red.

At first, we made small talk. Gradually, she steered the conversation toward my parents’ divorce.

“I know you’ve always carried resentment because I didn’t take you with me when your father and I divorced.

“But Lanyue, our divorce never meant we stopped loving you.

“We divorced because we couldn’t get along and couldn’t keep living together. If we’d forced it, there would have been endless fights, two bodies trudging through life like corpses, and a traumatized daughter.

“I didn’t take you for two reasons. First, I had been a housewife and was trying to reenter society. It was difficult, and I was afraid I couldn’t care for you properly.

“Second, your father had money. Staying with him meant a better material life.

“I still visited you. I invited you to spend New Year with me. When you refused, I didn’t force you.

“But remember this: you were a treasured child your parents longed for, and both of us love you. You may resent us, but don’t punish yourself.”

Her words kept me awake all night.

I lay in bed holding Sangbiao and thought about what she had said.

Did they love me?

Yes. I could feel it.

But I had been in eighth grade then. All I could think was: If they loved me, why couldn’t they stay together for my sake? Why couldn’t they give me a whole, happy family? Why did I have to become the subject of my classmates’ whispers?

The sensitivity of adolescence magnified every tiny cruelty without limit.

I became selfish and self-centered. I never considered their circumstances. I cared only about my own pain.

From middle school through high school, all I wanted was to escape them and become independent.

In college, when studying was no longer my only goal, I slowly began to understand how difficult their choices had been.

But I refused to admit that I had been wrong.

That stubbornness pulled me farther and farther away. In time, I grew used to being alone. The knot remained, but I pretended it didn’t matter.

I thought I could live perfectly well by myself.

Then pressure from work and my relationship broke me. I called them in tears.

Mom bought a plane ticket that very night. Dad arrived the next day and asked me to come home.

In the end, I chose Dad because Mom’s younger son was about to sit the college entrance examination, and I worried that my presence would affect him.

Mom had secretly cried over my decision.

I had owed her an apology ever since.

I picked up my phone and hesitated before sending a message.

[I’m sorry, Mom.]

Her reply came almost immediately.

[Every person is an individual, and they must consider themselves, too. That’s why I chose divorce. So you have nothing to feel guilty about.]

[Be good and go to sleep. Mom loves you.]

My nose stung, and something swelled painfully in my chest.

But the old knots and gloom dissolved with the words Mom loves you.

[I love you too.]

Sangbiao purred beside me like he had a motorcycle lodged in his throat. I shook him awake.

“Kitty. Wake up.”

He opened bleary eyes.

[Human?]

With a perfectly solemn face, I said, “Wake up and go back to sleep.”

Sangbiao: [?]

He rolled his eyes and started toward the foot of the bed. I hooked him back with one leg and pulled him into my arms.

“Don’t run. Stay with me.”

Too tired to resist, Sangbiao settled against my chest.

[Human, who else would indulge you like this if Cat left?]

Then the purring resumed.

I kissed his cheek.

“Mom and Dad would.”