Cat 310: The Pretty Boy “Yan Jiyun”

Chapter 310: The Pretty Boy “Yan Jiyun”

Qi Feng was thoroughly bewildered. Everyone appearing before him now seemed nothing but distractions.

Why was this happening?

Logically, how could there be two identical NPCs in the same instance? He couldn’t make sense of it.

It seemed that “Yan Jiyun” and Tang Yan had unresolved grievances.

Qi Feng was shoved aside by “Yan Jiyun,” but Qi Feng was no pushover. Although the other wore Yan Jiyun’s face, his mannerisms and behavior bore little resemblance to the Yan Jiyun he knew.

“I told you to get out of the way. Didn’t you hear me?” “Yan Jiyun” grew increasingly impatient.

Qi Feng had already abandoned hope that this person recognized him; clearly, this “Yan Jiyun” had not the slightest idea who he was.

Was the Tang Yan, who did not resemble Yan Jiyun, in fact the real Yan Jiyun? Was it he who possessed Yan Jiyun’s consciousness?

He still had Jiaotang at his side as proof of his identity. If “Yan Jiyun” hadn’t suddenly appeared, he would have already assumed Tang Yan was indeed Yan Jiyun.

Though, at this moment, Qi Feng could not judge with certainty, he still barred the door, refusing “Yan Jiyun” entry.

“Why are you trying to go in? Tang Yan is resting.” He fixed his gaze on “Yan Jiyun,” searching for any trace of Yan Jiyun in him.

It was clearly the same face—how could the personalities differ so greatly? Was it possible that this was some trick by the game to confuse him?

But why would it appear at this moment? Or was there originally such a character in this instance?

Qi Feng quickly dismissed this hypothesis.

If there really were a Yan Jiyun in the scenario, then Yan Jiyun’s consciousness should have returned to his own character’s body, not separated into different NPC forms and consciousnesses. That would only speed up their negotiations with the NPCs for cooperation.

Yan Jiyun had mentioned that there were traitors among the NPCs, but since he had just returned, he hadn’t had the chance to expose them. His memory was incomplete; he knew of such a person, but not their identity. This made things troublesome.

Could the traitor have found out Yan Jiyun was back and reported it to those above?

Yan Jiyun always referred to “those above” as the game’s controllers—but who exactly were they?

Qi Feng had a vague inkling. “Those above,” who could draw a person’s consciousness inside—Yan Jiyun had never said they were human, so perhaps they truly weren’t.

Where these people came from would only be revealed after they found the true Yan Jiyun and waited for his full memory to return.

For now, the most urgent task was to find the real Yan Jiyun, and even then, who could say if they would be able to restore their shared memories.

“I don’t care if he’s resting or not. I have business with him. Move aside!” “Yan Jiyun” was still relentless, his attitude so aggravating one felt tempted to kick him.

If not for the fact the man wore Yan Jiyun’s face, Qi Feng would have kicked him out already.

“I said no, and that’s final.” Qi Feng’s attitude was just as firm, like it was a contest of who could posture better.

From inside came Tang Yan’s laughter: “Looking for me? Trying to win back some points for your precious Stone Brother?”

“Yan Jiyun”: “I knew you were in there. Lin Dage says, two o’clock at the boxing gym. Anyone who doesn’t show is a coward.”

Tang Yan: “Tch, you make it sound like I’m afraid of you lot. Fine, I’ll treat it as exercise.”

“Yan Jiyun” eyed Qi Feng, the new gatekeeper: “Since when did you pick up such an obedient dog?”

Tang Yan: “None of your damn business. Go back and suck up to your Stone Brother.”

At these words, “Yan Jiyun” was practically fuming: “One day, I’ll make sure you’re kicked out of District Nine.”

Tang Yan: “You haven’t got the means. Neither do you, nor your Stone Brother.”

When it came to verbal sparring, Tang Yan utterly crushed “Yan Jiyun.” The latter was merely here to deliver a challenge—had Qi Feng not been blocking the way, he might not have been able to resist throwing a punch.

Having delivered his message, “Yan Jiyun” and his crew left.

It seemed that, in any prison block, inmates would form factions—and “Yan Jiyun” belonged to Lin Yushi’s group, who was at odds with Tang Yan. The two sides were evidently sworn rivals within the prison.

Once “Yan Jiyun” left, Qi Feng closed the door, looking at Tang Yan, whose expression remained placid. Tang Yan was poking at Shanzhu’s belly; the black cat, well-fed and at home, purred contentedly in the familiar environment, luxuriating in the human’s touch.

In that moment, what Qi Feng saw was: a cat basking in the morning sun, and a person enjoying life. If only this were not a prison, it would be an enchanting and heartwarming scene—one that could be called “Beauty and Cat.”

So as not to ruin the moment, Qi Feng refrained from asking about Lin Yushi’s two o’clock boxing match with him.

Qi Feng crouched down and began petting the cat with practiced hands. “How long have you had Shanzhu?”

Tang Yan hadn’t expected this question and seemed slightly surprised. “Since it was just born—when I found it, it wasn’t even a month old yet. I raised it on a bottle. Pretty impressive, right?”

“Impressive,” Qi Feng echoed, then shared his own experience: “When I found my cat, it was also just a month old. I didn’t know how to raise cats then—had to get help from the vet nurses. Step by step, I raised it, and now it’s over fifteen pounds.”

Tang Yan focused on a different detail: “If it’s that fat, isn’t it like a gas tank?”

Qi Feng glanced at him, then at Shanzhu. “If I told you it’s actually in decent shape, would you think I was exaggerating?”

Tang Yan eyed him with skepticism. “I’m sure it’s just a chubby cat.”

Qi Feng thought to himself, “…I hope you remember these words later.”

The accommodations in District Nine’s prison were extremely luxurious, but these bosses weren’t idle. At the very least, Qi Feng noticed that Tang Yan was able to use a computer, albeit an offline one.

Drawing nearer, he discovered Tang Yan was playing Spider Solitaire—the mouse almost becoming a blur under his rapid clicking. Evidently, he was truly bored.

While Tang Yan enjoyed his leisure, his neighbor seemed to have none. Even separated by a balcony, they could hear his shouts—not the angry tirades of a boss to his underlings, but the exasperated coaching of his elementary school son on math, teaching him two-digit addition and subtraction, driving this father to hope for no special privileges.

Tang Yan called out to the prisoner-dad from the balcony, which finally lowered the man’s volume. Afterwards, Tang Yan took a nap until midday, while Qi Feng, unashamed, borrowed Tang Yan’s clothes, took a shower, and made do with a nap on the living room couch until lunch.

Lunch was delivered directly to the door by staff from the District Nine prison cafeteria.

Compared to Districts One through Eight, District Nine was paradise—everything provided, all needs met.

But this paradise came with more trouble than the Eighth District—unfettered freedom meant a lack of control.

In the Eighth District, fights were reined in by the guards, but here, even guards had to watch their step around the prisoners. Who was in charge of whom was unclear; it was hard to say who worked for whom.

Qi Feng played the role of a dutiful little “lackey.” When Tang Yan went out, he dutifully hoisted the not-quite-ten-pound Shanzhu.

As Tang Yan styled his bangs in the mirror, he noticed Qi Feng cradling the black cat. “What are you taking it for?”

Qi Feng replied, “To enhance our presence.”

Tang Yan paused mid-groom, then relented. “Alright.”

Qi Feng, as he did with Jiaotang, prepared to perch Shanzhu on his shoulder. To his surprise, the cat settled onto his head.

For a moment, Qi Feng questioned again whether this was really Yan Jiyun. Headache-inducing.

Still, Tang Yan must be the main consciousness of Yan Jiyun—he’d trust his own instincts, which had saved him more than once so far.

With that, Tang Yan, Qi Feng, and Shanzhu set out.

At this hour, the courtyard was bustling with clusters of people chatting.

Most of them knew Lin Yushi had challenged Tang Yan to a boxing match, and now, seeing “Yan Jiyun” walking with him, curiosity brewed and they followed along.

Under the gaze of the crowd, the two made their way to the boxing gym.

Outside, seven or eight people lounged at the entrance: some standing, some sitting, but all at ease in whatever posture they found comfortable—a style reminiscent of Tang Yan’s own lazy demeanor.

When these eight saw Tang Yan approach, they all stood up.

A man with pale blue hair said, “Everyone’s here. Why is Lin Yushi stirring up trouble for us again? What’s it over this time?”

Besides the pale-blue-haired man, the others fixed their eyes on Qi Feng and the slightly nervous, wide-eyed Shanzhu.

Tang Yan replied, “Oh, just a trivial matter, nothing serious.”

He rolled his shoulders. “Come on, let’s go in.”

As he followed Tang Yan, Qi Feng surveyed those around them. Their group—ten in total—was hard to miss.

Lin Yushi was already sitting at ringside with “Yan Jiyun.” Both had changed into boxing gear.

Yan Jiyun had told Qi Feng that the typical NPCs here were created by those above—human-like, perhaps not real people. But characters with intelligence and ability were mostly those like them, NPCs with self-awareness.

Both groups were now assembled.

Tang Yan’s aura was no less intimidating than Lin Yushi, whose expression screamed “I’m pissed off.” But Tang Yan exuded a calm that was infuriating in its own right—especially to an impatient man like Lin Yushi.

Lin Yushi clicked his tongue. “You’re so slow. Are you an old man?”

Tang Yan didn’t take offense, immediately rebuffing, “So what if I’m old? Don’t underestimate the elderly. They’re hot commodities these days—government support and all.”

Qi Feng could barely hold back a chuckle—so Tang Yan even cracked jokes.

Lin Yushi, as expected, was provoked and grew more irritable—impatience was in his nature.

He said, “Enough talk. Today, whoever loses, loses a building.”

Tang Yan: “Oh, then you’re sure to lose. If your side loses, then I want…” He seemed unsure what to ask for, so he turned to Qi Feng. “Is there anything you want?”

Qi Feng pointed at “Yan Jiyun.” “I want to fight him.”

He wanted to know if this “Yan Jiyun” contained part of Yan Jiyun’s consciousness, if he’d been put here by those above to confuse him.

Tang Yan arched his brow, finally giving “Yan Jiyun” a serious look. He nodded meaningfully. “Granted.”

He smiled at Lin Yushi. “Same rules—best two out of three. If you lose, I’ll take someone from your side.”

Lin Yushi: “I don’t kill people.”

Tang Yan: “No killing; just tie him up and bring him over to me.”

Lin Yushi: “Fine. There’s no one in this world I can’t get my hands on.”

Indeed, Lin Yushi was bold enough to have kidnapped even heads of state—and that’s why he was serving time in District Nine.

Qi Feng handed the cat to Tang Yan and went up to the ring to prepare for his match with “Yan Jiyun.”

“Yan Jiyun” fit himself with a mouthguard.

The boxing gym had everything one could need.

On stage, a drag queen in pink bunny ears sashayed through with a sign for “Round One,” swaying provocatively. As she stepped down, she even tossed a flirtatious wink at Tang Yan.

Tang Yan ignored the wink, but Qi Feng glimpsed it and wondered idly whether Yan Jiyun liked rabbits.

At that moment, “Yan Jiyun” swung a right hook at him. Qi Feng was distracted, allowing the glove to graze his jaw.

Over by Tang Yan, the blue-haired man leaned in, asking, “Hey, is your new little lackey interested in that pretty boy?”

Tang Yan, clutching Shanzhu’s paw, stared coldly. “You think I’m not better-looking than that pretty boy?”

The blue-haired man blinked. “…”

Then he heard Tang Yan say, in the most tranquil tone, “If he really ends up liking that pretty boy, just get rid of him.”