Cat 315: I Like You

Chapter 315 I Like You

Tang Yan, without Yan Jiyun’s memories, was undoubtedly innocent and straightforward, lacking subtlety or depth.

His trust in Qi Feng ran deep, every word seemingly taken to heart. “Who’s the traitor? What does this have to do with Tang Qing?” This involved not only Tang Qing, but himself directly as well. He threatened Tang Qing out loud, “Tang Qing, put your gun down. If you’ve got something to say, come at me.”

Qi Feng remained calm. Perhaps he understood why the uncle and nephew had never been able to have a proper conversation, but he had no intention of playing peacemaker.

Tang Qing’s gun remained steadily aimed at Qi Feng. “Traitor? The real traitor here is this new boyfriend of yours, coming in and trying to sow discord.”

Tang Yan sneered. “Don’t talk nonsense. You don’t even know who he’s after—it’s got nothing to do with you.”

Tang Qing only laughed. “Is that any way to speak to your uncle?”

Tang Yan shot back, “Save your lecturing voices. At ten years old you were still running around with your naked butt.”

Tang Qing retorted, “At ten I was, but you were only three, still in diapers.”

Tang Yan replied, “That’s still better than running around naked.”

Tang Qing answered, “I wasn’t naked—I wore trunks when I swam.”

Tang Yan: “Heh.”

Qi Feng had no idea why their conversation had devolved into such childish banter, but he didn’t interrupt. Instead, he simply moved the gun from his forehead. The last thing he wanted was for Tang Qing, provoked by Tang Yan, to accidentally fire. After all, he had just discovered that he and Yan Jiyun were mutually in love.

Tang Qing’s temper had been sparked, but he didn’t keep the gun on Qi Feng and instead ordered someone to detain him.

Qi Feng, not wanting things to escalate, said, “Wait. Stop fighting, let me say something.”

Tang Yan pulled him close. “No need to explain to him. Let’s go.”

Tang Qing blocked them. “Stay where you are. Anyone who tries to leave gets a bullet to the leg!”

But Tang Yan had no intention of listening. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

This was Tang Qing’s turf, so he called for backup. “Let me show you who I am. Tie them up!”

No one expected it to come to blows so quickly.

As Tang Qing’s men closed in, Qi Feng refused to let Tang Yan get hurt and naturally joined the fray. Both of them were skilled. Qi Feng already had a rapport with Yan Jiyun, which meant he understood Tang Yan’s fighting style; together, they worked in perfect tandem. Tang Yan vented his frustration as he fought, paradoxically growing calmer with each exchange—a peculiar thing.

Yet, when Tang Yan tried to break off, his opponent only became fiercer, intent on inflicting real harm.

Tang Yan, too, grew more ruthless, matching the man blow for blow. As his opponent began to falter, he reached into his pocket—a movement Qi Feng knew well and instantly recognized.

What was he trying to do?

“Xiao Yan, watch out!”

No sooner had he spoken than the burly man drew a knife and lunged at Tang Yan’s abdomen. Qi Feng’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Tang Yan!” Kicking aside his own attacker, he shouted, “Tang Qing! Tell your men to stop! Do you want Tang Yan dead?”

Chaos erupted. Tang Qing hadn’t realized someone was trying to take Tang Yan’s life.

Hearing the desperation in Qi Feng’s voice, Tang Qing realized he’d lost control of the situation—he’d just been roughhousing, never intending real harm. But things had gone too far and someone was exploiting the mess. “Everyone, STOP!”

Some listened, but there were too many bodies in the way. Qi Feng shoved aside those blocking him and raced toward Tang Yan.

The would-be killer didn’t stop. Luckily, Tang Yan’s reflexes saved him from the first thrust, but a second slash came fast—the attacker was an experienced killer, not someone Tang Yan could easily overcome. If this kept up, Tang Yan would be hurt, badly.

The killer’s attacks grew even more vicious. Tang Yan had nowhere to dodge. As the knife flashed for his chest a third time, he suddenly felt himself pushed aside by a powerful force—Qi Feng, throwing himself between them. The blade drove into Qi Feng’s shoulder, not Tang Yan’s.

In that moment, Tang Yan froze, stunned, as a rush of familiar memories and half-remembered images crashed into his brain, lost pieces snapping back into place one by one.

Bang!

Tang Qing’s gun finally barked, just as the attacker wrenched the knife free from Qi Feng’s shoulder.

Tang Qing’s men grappled the killer to the floor in a chaotic heap.

Everything had happened in an instant, and only now did everyone realize how serious it was—someone was hurt.

Receiving that flood of memories, Tang Yan murmured dazedly, “Qi Feng, you’re hurt again…”

Qi Feng gritted his teeth and squeezed his hand. “It’s nothing.” Then he realized something odd—why “again”? This was the second time he’d been stabbed in the shoulder; last time had been in the previous instance. Both times, he’d gladly taken it for Yan Jiyun, regardless of whether memory remained.

But Tang Yan, who remembered nothing before, shouldn’t know about the earlier wound. Tentatively, Qi Feng asked, “Jiyun?”

Yan Jiyun, eyes fixed on the blood flowing from his shoulder, pressed his hands against it and called to Tang Qing, “Tang Qing, help!”

Seeing he was all right, Tang Qing finally snapped into action, calling a doctor.

There was no need to go far; District Nine had an inmate who was a doctor.

That doctor, Yan Jiyun remembered well—NPC Chi Shu, who had played a perverse doctor in his first instance.

District Nine’s medical facilities were excellent. Chi Shu was now free of all that old madness, presenting as a scholarly type, tending Qi Feng’s wound with brisk, expert hands—cleaning, disinfecting, dressing, and wrapping.

In no time, Qi Feng’s injury was seen to.

At last, he looked up to Yan Jiyun, who stood there pale as a ghost, as if just reclaimed from loss.

Last time he’d been hurt, Yan Jiyun had still been Jiao Tang, his face hidden. Now, he could see every shade of worry and emotion.

Qi Feng comforted him, squeezing his hand, “Don’t worry about me. Just a scratch. Didn’t you say this is a world of consciousness? I’ll be fine once we leave.”

“Mhm.” Yan Jiyun let out a breath, then flushed with sudden shyness as he realized the real nature of their bond.

Not wanting to be a bystander, Tang Qing interjected, “What are you two talking about?”

Yan Jiyun looked at Tang Qing with a trace of guilt and restraint, whispering to Qi Feng, “I’m going to say a few words to my uncle, then we’ll leave together.”

Qi Feng nodded, sensing Yan Jiyun’s sorrow. He no longer felt the need to probe into the tangled drama between Yan Jiyun and Tang Qing, or Zhou Renyi.

From the start, his only purpose had been to find Yan Jiyun—not to follow the instance storyline.

Yan Jiyun was awake now.

After entering, his consciousness had felt cloudy and adrift, unable to find any way out of the darkness. He’d been trapped, aware that he no longer had his cat form or feline eyes, yet furiously struggling to break the invisible barrier.

At first, he hadn’t known why. It was only when he faintly heard Qi Feng’s voice from the outside that understanding dawned.

His consciousness had been forced deep within Tang Yan’s body, the very NPC he himself had created in a past instance—this one was his own story. The collision of dual consciousness meant the instance’s template self suppressed him. Ironically, hearing Qi Feng’s voice began to fuse those two currents into one mind.

He now knew who the real antagonist of the instance was. But he’d been reduced to a fool under the system’s control, rejecting family and trusting the real villain—if he’d signed that contract, the instance would have fallen to Zhou Renyi’s complete control. Thankfully, Qi Feng caught the critical clue and stopped naïve Tang Yan from signing.

Of course, from his perspective, the game mechanics were simplified. Shanzhu was a product of him briefly regaining agency within the instance, increasing the chance that Qi Feng could find him. In a normal top-level game, no player would have thought to search District Nine for such a critical NPC—no matter how skilled, Qi Feng couldn’t have found him so quickly.

Yan Jiyun’s return meant he now had his full consciousness restored.

He recalled the rules that governed his existence as an NPC within the game.

Without primary consciousness, he would have remained a dutiful NPC, following every command to the letter. This instance was a window into his own past—everything here projected by NPC consciousness. The game dissected his kind’s experiences, weaving them into vivid, living scenarios.

His entire clan had been thrown into this world.

And now this instance involved him directly. Tang Qing was both family and yet not family.

What he needed now was to say goodbye.

Tang Qing noticed the sudden change in Yan Jiyun’s bearing and found it odd.

Tang Qing said, “A minor injury to Qi Feng changes your whole personality?”

Yan Jiyun didn’t answer. Instead, he patted Tang Qing’s shoulder. “Uncle, I know it wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”

Tang Qing was startled. “Why would I blame myself?”

Yan Jiyun said, “What happened to my parents had nothing to do with you. I know that now.”

Tang Qing stared. “You know? How did you suddenly wise up? A moment ago you were at my throat—wait, this is getting a little surreal.”

Yan Jiyun smiled gently. “There’s nothing surreal about it. Uncle, in the past I was wrong. From now on, I’ll live well.”

Tang Qing said, “What’s with that weird talk—‘live well’?”

Tang Yan’s abrupt change left Tang Qing at a loss.

Yan Jiyun stepped forward and drew Tang Qing into a hug. “Uncle, farewell. Tell my parents I said hello.”

Before Tang Qing could react, Yan Jiyun swiftly plunged a knife into his chest, then closed his eyes.

Tang Qing: “You—”

Everyone was stunned, even Qi Feng. How could he stab someone without warning?

And in the very next instant, Tang Qing’s form dissolved into starlight, vanishing before their eyes.

Before Qi Feng could even voice his confusion, he saw the rest of the NPCs who had been present disappear as well.

The prison remained, but it was now utterly empty.

Qi Feng rushed to grip Yan Jiyun’s hand. “You’re not going to disappear, are you?”

Yan Jiyun flashed a deliberately exaggerated grin. “What do you think?”

Qi Feng wasn’t frightened, only pulled Yan Jiyun close and held him tight, eyes meeting.

He said, “You did scare me.”

Yan Jiyun, by habit, nuzzled into Qi Feng’s neck. “You’re so timid.”

Qi Feng stiffened slightly, ears burning. “Can you turn back into Jiao Tang?”

Yan Jiyun, suddenly remembering how he’d boldly kissed Qi Feng, simply closed his eyes. In a second, he shrank to the ten-jin weight of Jiao Tang, slender and supple, climbing onto Qi Feng’s shoulder.

Rubbing his furry cheek against Qi Feng’s, he asked, “So, do you only like my cat form? Not me as a human?”

Qi Feng’s cheeks flushed under the soft fur. “I like Yan Jiyun.”

Yan Jiyun lifted his chin in satisfaction. He’d gotten the answer he wanted. “Good—smart of you. I’ve long known you liked me.”

Qi Feng stroked his fluffy head. “Yeah, I like you.”

He understood exactly what Yan Jiyun cared about.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Yan Jiyun planted a paw on Qi Feng’s head and declared, “I like you, too.”

Qi Feng made a small request. “Could you turn back and say it again?”

Yan Jiyun refused at once. “No. I’m shy.”

Qi Feng: “…” He honestly couldn’t see where the shyness came in.