Chapter 7 - The Boy and the Cat
The sharp trill of the bell echoed through the hallways, signaling the end of the evening self-study session. However, the teacher in Class 1, still clutching a stack of marked exam papers, showed no intention of stopping. He glanced at the clock, realized the remaining problems were too complex to rush, and finally sighed. "We’ll leave the rest for tomorrow morning’s class. Dismissed."
Si Bin didn’t wait for a second invitation. He set down his pen, gathered his papers with uncharacteristic haste, and followed closely on the teacher’s heels out of the classroom.
"Bin-ge is leaving early today?" Yu Wenbo asked, turning toward the Vice Monitor in confusion. "He didn't even finish packing his desk."
The Vice Monitor raised an eyebrow and beckoned Yu Wenbo closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "He’s off to find the grade’s new number one."
"Why? Do they know each other?" Yu Wenbo scratched his head, bewildered.
The Vice Monitor shrugged. "Who knows? But at the start of class, I heard Si Bin muttering his name. I guess he’s just curious about the transfer student who managed to drop out of the sky and snatch his top spot."
By the time Si Bin reached the doorway of Class 2, the room was in a state of organized chaos. At No. 1 Middle School, every class rotated seats once a week—groups swapped positions horizontally, and students shifted rows vertically. It was a system designed to ensure fairness, but today it meant Lin Murun’s entire group had been moved to the very front, right under the teacher’s nose.
Si Bin leaned in, hoping for a glimpse of the boy who had occupied his thoughts all summer, but he only caught the curve of a slender back before the Politics teacher intercepted him in the hallway.
"Si Bin, just the person I was looking for. Come to the office for a moment."
Meanwhile, inside Class 2, the atmosphere was thick with the usual post-class gossip. Yu Qianyi, who sat directly behind Lin Murun’s new seat, leaned forward as she zipped up her backpack. She nudged the class monitor, Huang Hao. "Si Bin was here again."
"Who is he looking for?" Huang Hao asked, looking up from his books.
"Is he looking for you, new student?" Yu Qianyi asked with a playful grin, directing her question at Lin Murun, who was meticulously organizing his exercise books. "Si Bin was the undisputed number one for every single exam until you showed up and suppressed him by a few points. Maybe he’s looking for a rematch?"
Lin Murun paused, his gaze drifting toward the door. The corridor was a blur of students rushing toward the dorms or the school gates, but there was no sign of the tall, commanding figure of Si Bin.
In the faculty office, the Politics teacher pulled a thick folder from his desk and handed it to Si Bin with a warm smile. "These are the key study points I compiled. I usually save these for the midterm review, but since you’ve been doing so well with self-study after transferring to the Liberal Arts stream, I thought I’d give them to you early."
Si Bin took the materials, offering a polite word of thanks.
"How are you settling into the Arts class? Is the transition difficult?" the teacher asked, pulling Si Bin’s Comprehensive Humanities paper from a pile.
"It’s alright," Si Bin replied, his tone respectful. "But the schedule is tight. There are still some knowledge points I haven't fully memorized."
"To get this score on your first Comprehensive Humanities exam is already quite an achievement," the teacher said, tapping a few red marks on the paper. "You missed the summer prep classes, so the section on dialectics is understandably tricky. Study these notes first, and don't hesitate to ask if you get stuck. The History teacher also suggests you work on your timelines, though the Geography teacher says you’ve already mastered the curriculum."
Si Bin nodded, though his mind was already drifting back to the hallway of Class 2. After another ten minutes of encouragement, he was finally released. When he passed Class 2 again, he found Lin Murun’s seat empty.
Recognizing a familiar face near the door, Si Bin stepped inside and tapped on a desk. "Shen Hao, a quick question."
The Sports Representative looked up, startled. "Oh, Bin-ge! What’s up?"
"Do you know where Lin Murun went?"
"Uh..." Shen Hao thought for a second. "He just stepped out. His backpack is still here, so he hasn't gone home yet."
Si Bin glanced at the neatly organized desk—a stark contrast to the cluttered workspaces around it—and left with a quiet thank you. As soon as he was gone, the students who had been pretending to study suddenly erupted into hushed whispers.
"He’s definitely looking for Lin Murun," the Math Representative whispered. "But why?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Yu Qianyi added. "He wants to see what the person who beat him looks like up close."
A girl nearby chimed in softly, "I thought he was here to see Menglai."
Li Menglai, hearing her name, looked up and sighed. "Leave me out of this. I did try to pursue him once, but he never gave me the time of day. Don't go poking at my old wounds."
Unaware of the stir he had caused, Lin Murun was standing by a flowerbed downstairs. A sudden sneeze escaped him, and he paused to adjust his glasses before reaching into the shadows of the bushes.
"Sorry, did I scare you?" he murmured.
A small white kitten let out a tiny, pathetic mewl, leaning its head into his palm and purring with desperate affection.
Up on the corridor, Si Bin leaned against the railing, his eyes scanning the courtyard. He spotted them immediately—the boy and the cat, bathed in the pale, amber glow of a streetlight. From this distance, the light seemed to catch the fine strands of Lin Murun’s hair, creating a soft halo around him. The school was still noisy with the chatter of departing students, but in that small circle of light, everything seemed still.
As if sensing the gaze, Lin Murun looked up. His eyes met Si Bin’s across the distance. He didn't look surprised; instead, he offered a small, hesitant wave before looking back down at the kitten. "I'll come see you tomorrow," he whispered to the creature.
The kitten, surprisingly intelligent, licked his fingertip before darting back into the safety of the foliage.
"Feeding the cat?" Si Bin’s voice drifted down as Lin Murun reached the base of the stairs.
"Yes," Lin Murun explained as he approached. "I think it was abandoned. It hasn't quite adjusted to life without a master yet."
"You're not planning to adopt it?"
Lin Murun shook his head, a shadow of regret crossing his face. "It’s not convenient." He was staying at his uncle’s house; he didn't want to impose further by bringing home a pet.
Si Bin nodded, assuming it was a matter of strict parents. "I could take it," he said after a moment's thought. "If you don't mind, that is."
Lin Murun blinked in surprise. "Wouldn't that be too much trouble?"
"Leaving it out here isn't a long-term solution. Abandoned kittens rarely survive the winter on their own," Si Bin reasoned. "Besides, I already have a cat at home. They could keep each other company."
Lin Murun hesitated, his protective instincts warring with his practicality. Seeing his doubt, Si Bin added, "If you're worried, you can come and visit it whenever you like."
Lin Murun remembered then that Si Bin lived in Jingshan Garden, just a stone's throw from the school. "Finding a new owner would be the best thing for it," he finally conceded. "It’s easy to care for. It eats just about anything."
"That’s perfect," Si Bin laughed. "My cat was a stray too. He’s not picky at all—good temperament, even better appetite." He checked the weather forecast on his phone. "It might rain tonight. We should probably take it to the vet for a check-up now."
"Alright," Lin Murun agreed. "Let me grab my bag."
When Lin Murun pushed open the classroom door, he was met with a blast of cold air and the intense, synchronized stares of his classmates. He paused, confused by the sudden silence, but simply gathered his things and Si Bin’s umbrella before heading back out.
"I definitely saw Si Bin again," a student by the window whispered, craning their neck.
"You're not seeing things. Lin Murun and Si Bin just left together."
"Whoa..." Shen Hao rubbed his chin. "It’s not even raining. Why did Lin Murun take an umbrella? Are they going to have a showdown outside the school gates?"
"Si Bin wouldn't pick a fight over grades," Zhou Xuan countered.
"They didn't look like they were going to fight," Yu Qianyi observed, watching them walk toward the gate. "They looked... actually quite close."
The entire class let out a collective gasp of disbelief.
Back at the flowerbed, Lin Murun called the kitten out again. The small creature was wary of the stranger, burrowing into Lin Murun’s shoulder and eyeing Si Bin with wide, watery blue eyes.
"Does it have a name?" Si Bin asked.
"No name..."
"Then how do you call it?" Si Bin asked with a smile.
"Just... 'Kitty'?" Lin Murun admitted, his voice dropping an octave in embarrassment. Hearing the gentle, slightly awkward way the boy spoke to the animal made Si Bin’s smile widen.
"Let’s get to the vet," Lin Murun said quickly, cradling the kitten as they walked toward the school gate.
"Sure," Si Bin followed. "Maybe you should give it a proper name now."
Lin Murun looked at the kitten’s snowy fur. "Xiao Lan? Or Xiao Bai?"
The kitten let out a soft whimper, its tiny body trembling as the familiar sights of the school courtyard faded behind them.
"Is it okay?" Lin Murun asked, worried.
"It’s just scared," Si Bin explained. "Cats get anxious when they leave their territory." He reached out. "Here, let me hold it."
Lin Murun hesitated for a heartbeat before transferring the tiny bundle of fur into Si Bin’s arms.
"It’s okay, it’s okay," Si Bin murmured, shielding the kitten against his chest. "We're taking you home."
They reached a nearby pet shop just around the corner. The kitten tried to squirm away a few times, but Si Bin’s low, steady voice seemed to soothe it. Even so, by the time they handed it over to the vet, the poor thing was still shaking.
"Xiao Bai needs a basic exam," Si Bin said after consulting with the doctor. He turned to Lin Murun. "It might take a while. You can head back first if you need to."
Lin Murun shook his head. "I’ll wait."
"Alright." Si Bin pulled out his phone. "In that case, we should probably add each other on WeChat. It’ll make it easier to keep you updated on the cat."
"Good idea." Lin Murun opened his QR code.
Si Bin’s profile picture was an orange cat with white paws—a "white-glove" tabby—napping on a sun-drenched sofa. The photo felt warm, capturing a quiet, domestic peace.
"Is this your cat?" Lin Murun asked, tapping the image.
"Yeah," Si Bin replied. "That’s Da Bai. From now on, he’s Xiao Bai’s big brother."
