Eight-tailed cat (10): Make a wish for success

After two hours of emergency treatment, Li Li was pushed out of the ICU by a nurse. She looked terrible. Clearly, she was the patient, yet she still radiated a kind of maternal glow. Wearing an oxygen mask, she weakly said, “Mom is fine, don’t worry about me.”

Tan Xiao thought that he actually wasn’t that worried. Although Ms. Li Li was clearly putting on her best performance as a great mother, he always felt a certain emotional distance between them.

In this hospital—especially in the intensive care unit area—many seriously ill patients hovered on the edge of death, but human emotions were not always shared.

The hospital lights shone on Tan Xiao’s face, highlighting his already handsome features, making them appear even more chiseled. The lighting was a cold white, the air heavy with the sharp scent of disinfectant. The cramped hospital room gave off a particularly cold and oppressive feeling.

Tan Xiao lowered his gaze to observe the “mother” lying on the bed. At this moment, he felt like a cold-blooded, unfilial son. Rationality told him he should feel moved, should do something for his mother.

Aside from paying all kinds of expenses, praying to gods and spirits was common. As long as there was hope, he ought to try.

But as he looked at Li Li now, it felt like looking at a familiar stranger—like seeing an old classmate, a friend once met, or even a former teacher in a critical care unit.

He did feel something, but not enough to shake him to the core. The affection between mother and son was thin, separated by a layer. It was like watching a touching family drama, but the plot was too contrived and the acting too deliberate, as if everyone was shouting, “Be moved! Be moved now!”—but as a viewer, he just couldn’t.

Perhaps he wasn’t any better—a cold-blooded monster even worse than the spoiled rich kid from his first dream. That guy only failed to care about a cat, while the person lying on the bed before him was the woman who gave birth to and raised him.

Suddenly, a strange thought popped into Tan Xiao’s head: “This beautiful woman in front of me—so striking even in sickness—is she really my mother? The two of us don’t really look alike.”

Li Li was a striking beauty, with strong, deep features and an almost mixed-race appearance. Tan Xiao had softer features.

No, he shouldn’t think like that. Maybe he just resembled his father more—after all, he did look very similar to the man in the funeral photo. Father and son like two peas in a pod.

Tan Xiao pulled the blanket up for Li Li. “If you know I’m worried about you, then don’t overthink. I’ll take care of the payments and everything else. Don’t worry.”

Li Li sighed in a theatrical tone, “What’s the use of money? If only Heaven would show mercy.”

Tan Xiao felt an increasing sense of strangeness. Saying that kind of thing at a time like this—it felt too deliberate.

Still, it was normal for a patient to turn to heaven when ill. He calmly replied, “Better to rely on yourself than on gods. Illness is your immune system fighting off viruses. Healing means your immunity is getting stronger. The doctor said you can recover, so have faith in yourself.”

“You brat, I’m still your mom…” Li Li finished her scripted lines and didn’t want to hear any more of his science talk.

Though her cheap son was drop-dead handsome, he wasn’t hers to command. The green-eyed black cat in his arms still watched like a jealous guardian.

Li Li impatiently shooed him away. “I don’t feel comfortable with you here. I’m tired. I need to rest. Go.”

As long as she stuck to the system’s lines, didn’t break character, and didn’t reveal her identity, she had some freedom. Patients had the right to bad moods.

“I’ll go get something to eat. Rest well.” Tan Xiao had already hired a strong, efficient female caregiver for Li Li. After all, he was a man—even if it was his mother, some aspects of care weren’t appropriate for him.

And frankly, a well-trained caregiver was much more useful than a son. Still, he couldn’t just pay and ignore everything—he had to stay involved, in case he hired a bad one.

After leaving the ward, he found the caregiver he’d previously hired, paid her for the time so far, and reminded her to look after Li Li and call him immediately if anything happened.

“Of course, of course. I promise to contact you right away,” she said with a big smile. Generous, kind, understanding employers who also happened to be good-looking were rare.

Tan Xiao had asked the doctor and confirmed that Li Li’s condition meant she shouldn’t be exposed to cold air. He closed the window before leaving and took the black cat out of the oppressive hospital.

It was cold inside the hospital, but outside, possibly because of a recent rain, the chill felt bone-deep.

Tan Xiao wore a hoodie that day. Talking to the caregiver with a cat in his arms had felt rude, so he’d tucked it into his hood. Luckily, the cat was well-behaved and stayed still. Now, he moved the soft, fluffy black cat to his chest.

Through his clothes, he absorbed the little creature’s warmth, and finally felt a bit of life return to him. After enduring for so long, he was starving, his body screaming for energy.

Maybe all that gloomy thinking at the hospital had just been hunger-induced. When people are starving, their brains don’t work. Time to refuel.

Luckily, there were plenty of shops near the hospital. He entered a nearby rice noodle shop with the cat and ordered a big, steaming bowl of lean pork rice noodles—with extras: a braised pig’s trotter so tender it melted in the mouth, a serving of white-cut chicken, and two big braised chicken legs.

He asked the owner for a large bowl, washed it with hot water, and requested a disposable foam takeout bowl. Using gloves, he shredded the meat into strips and piled it into a mountain.

Pushing the bowl to the black cat, he said, “Eat.”

The cat meowed and dove in, occasionally glancing up at Tan Xiao.

Seeing the cat eat so happily, Tan Xiao dug into his noodles. As the hot food filled his stomach, he felt himself come back to life.

People around them came and went, some whispering, “That cat eats better than people… kids these days, treat their cats better than their parents…”

But their muttering was cut off by a sharp glance from the black cat. The atmosphere in the noodle shop turned strangely still.

Tan Xiao seemed not to notice and kept eating seriously. Once full, that mental fog from the hospital had mostly cleared.

The stranger had a point—some people did treat their pets better than their parents. But there were reasons. Sometimes people had broken families, or just didn’t feel close to their parents, so they treated strangers or pets better.

Tan Xiao reflected on himself. He wasn’t particularly sensitive or able to stand entirely in his mother’s shoes. But he wasn’t unfilial either. After all, the hospital was expensive and full of medical staff—yet here he was, still handling everything.

His family wasn’t so dysfunctional. They owed a lot of debt, yes, but the parent-child relationship was decent. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken on such a massive debt—he’d have run far away and left his sick-tempered mother behind.

The second type of person treated their pets as family, like children, sharing years of companionship.

But this black cat had only been with him for less than two months. It wasn’t enough time to build deep bonds.

Still, something told Tan Xiao he felt closer to this two-month-old black cat than to the “mother” he’d known for over twenty years.

After all, he dreamed constantly—of the black cat, of Wen Yi—but rarely of Li Li. Even when he heard she was seriously ill, no warm memories came back. If there were one or two, they felt fake.

Watching the little black cat finish an entire bowl of meat, Tan Xiao suddenly called out that name—a name he didn’t remember, yet had felt familiar the first time he heard it: “Wen Yi.”

The cat snapped its head up.

“You’re not an ordinary cat, are you? You’re the legendary cat that grants wishes?”

Wen Yi froze mid-lick. Those emerald eyes locked onto him. Around them, the entire shop froze. The owner’s spatula stopped mid-air, the cashier’s hands froze over money, even the steam from hot dishes stood still.

“Meow. What do you wish for?”

At that moment, Wen Yi remembered everything—his past with Tan Xiao.

He wasn’t just a wish-granting eight-tailed cat—he was the lover of the handsome young man in front of him.

But now, trapped in this feline body, he could only helplessly recite the scripted line, trying to signal Tan Xiao with his eyes: Remember. Remember this is a game. Wish for “successfully clear the level.” Only then could they finish this “instance.”

If Tan Xiao made a different wish, the level would fail.

The painful part was, though Tan Xiao had learned from the “dreams” that Wen Yi was a wish-granting cat, he still hadn’t remembered their past.

Even Wen Yi had forgotten—until the script triggered his memory. He had kept his powers hidden, wanting only to spend more time with Tan Xiao.

Because once the destined person made a wish, regardless of whether Wen Yi lost a tail permanently or regrew one, their bond would be severed.

If they were forced apart… Wen Yi would tear this damned game apart.

Trapped in the black cat’s tiny body, Wen Yi’s fury simmered—until Tan Xiao suddenly smiled and said, “I want to make a wish. I wish for your ninth tail to grow.”

Even without remembering their past, Tan Xiao had instinctively abandoned the wish that would benefit himself. He used it for the black cat.

To him, Li Li was “family,” but so was the cat. Helping one family member shouldn’t come at the expense of another.

And in so many dreams, the black cat had worked so hard to grant other people’s wishes—only hoping to one day grow its ninth tail. Yet no one had ever made a wish for the eight-tailed cat.

The black cat twitched its ears in disbelief. Its voice trembled, “Are you sure? You’re sure that’s the wish you want to make? You only have one chance.”

Tan Xiao reached out and patted the fluffy head. “I’m sure.”

The cat’s body shattered into glowing fragments. Amidst the sparkling light, it grew its ninth tail and transformed into a breathtakingly beautiful man—beyond gender, dazzling in form.

The man, once a cat, cupped Tan Xiao’s face and said, “Congratulations, Player Tan Xiao, on clearing the special instance Eight-Tailed Cat.  Thank you for your wish. From this moment on, I belong to you.”