Chapter 127: If My Girlfriend Were a Cat-Girl…

After finishing my diary entry, I set down the ballpoint pen, its ink nearly dry.

While replacing the refill, my thoughts lingered on the words I’d just written. They were now in the diary, but hadn’t fully faded from my mind.

During the call, I couldn’t see Zhinian, but her tone and voice painted vivid pictures in my head—probably because I know her so well.

Knock, knock, knock~

The steady sound of knocking came from the door. Someone wanted to come in.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts and glanced faintly at the door. I knew who was standing there.

“Come in.”

With a click, Mom walked in, her dignified face carrying a sly smile, holding a small tray.

I glanced at it—a fruit platter, arranged quite beautifully. Though my cooking skills have surpassed hers, when it comes to making food look appealing, I’m nowhere near as good as Mom.

It’s not that I can’t learn; my heart just quietly resists this kind of superficial embellishment.

I once shared this thought with Mom, only to be met with her scornful gaze.

“You just haven’t met someone you truly like yet. Once you fall in love, you’ll see how silly your stubbornness is now. A simple platter won’t stump a lovesick teenager,” she said.

“So, Mom, you changed because of Dad?”

“Uh, well, sort of.”

I still vividly remember Mom’s slightly embarrassed yet quietly delighted expression—such a rare sight.

“Hey, hey, kid, what’re you spacing out for? Thinking about your little childhood friend?”

As I was lost in memories, Mom poked my forehead, snapping me back to reality.

“Maybe.”

I pursed my lips, giving a vague answer.

I knew when Mom got curious, even if I denied her guesses, she’d badger me until I admitted it. Since it’d end up that way, I might as well own up to it early.

“Heh, I knew it.”

Mom grinned, placing the fruit platter on my desk. She noticed the diary sitting there.

“Oh? Writing in your diary? Anything about little Zhinian in there?”

“There is, but you can’t see it.”

I’m used to Mom’s playful antics by now. She might tease, but she’d never actually snoop through my diary for her own curiosity, so I wasn’t too worried.

After my blunt refusal, Mom pouted, then flashed a mischievous smile.

“Tch, so secretive. Did you write something naughty? Never thought my little Gu would have a day like this. Man, when I was your age, I was stressing over how to charm a hot guy. And here you are, already winning over a gorgeous cat-girl. I’m so jealous!”

I’d planned to brush off Mom’s words casually, but hearing her describe Zhinian as a “gorgeous cat-girl”… it felt… weird.

And her use of the word “charm” made me a bit uncomfortable.

Is that how others see my interactions with Zhinian—like I’m trying to “charm” her?

Mom seemed to use the fruit platter as an excuse to pry for gossip. Satisfied with her probing, she slipped away with a smug grin, even forgetting to close the door.

I stared at the hallway beyond the open door for a moment, then stood up, tucked my diary back into the drawer, threw on a jacket, and headed out.

I rarely feel troubled. Well, I do sometimes, but it doesn’t last long—I’m used to dealing with problems on the spot.

It’s only when it comes to Zhinian that I feel lost, unsure of how to handle her fiery enthusiasm.

At first, I found her overwhelming, a bundle of trouble I wanted to avoid. But when I picture her teary-eyed, clinging to my sleeve, her cat ears drooping pitifully as she quietly begs me not to shut her out like before, I can’t help but soften.

Slowly, I stopped resisting being around her. It even feels a bit like when we were kids—I’ve gotten used to having her by my side.

Lost in thought, I reached the entrance, slipped on my shoes, said goodbye to Mom, and slowly stepped out the door.

When was the last time I went for a walk alone? After a quick recall, it was months ago.

And this time, what am I trying to figure out by going out?

Strolling down the street, I pulled up my hood, quietly observing the passersby.

Winter in the south is bone-chillingly cold, but that seems to give couples an excuse to show off their affection. Everywhere I looked, I saw pairs holding hands, warming each other.

Hmm… am I actually jealous of them?

Carefully sensing the emotions stirring in my heart, I was surprised to notice this.

Come to think of it, I rarely pay attention to random couples on the street. Most of the time when I’m out, I’m either dealing with friends or tending to Zhinian’s little moods, leaving no room to observe others’ love lives.

At home, my parents rarely act affectionate in front of me. They say it’s because they’re an old married couple with no passion left.

In my opinion, they’re just laid-back by nature. They must have been in love at the start, but over time, it’s turned into something more like living as companions.

In a way, my deep-seated resistance to romance has something to do with how my parents are.

…Romance?

Could it be that the feelings I have for Zhinian mean I want to date her?

Realizing this startling possibility, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Speaking of dating, I think I had a girlfriend in middle school. Back then, I was in my rebellious phase, and a lot of girls confessed to me. Finding it annoying, I randomly picked one to use as a shield.

Looking back, I feel a bit sorry for her.

After all, I mooched off her daily breakfasts but never held her hand or hugged her. After graduation……I broke up with her at lightning speed… ugh, that really makes me sound like a jerk.

Realizing that my so-called “laid-back” attitude was probably seen as scummy behavior by others, I furrowed my brows and crouched down by a wall.

Well, it’s in the past. Going back to make up for it now would feel too forced and might cause unnecessary misunderstandings. I’ll deal with it if the chance comes up later.

But now, am I supposed to treat Zhinian the same way I treated my “ex-girlfriend”?

Unlike with her, Zhinian and I have genuinely shared plenty of intimate moments we didn’t even think much about—hugs, cuddles, we’ve done them multiple times, like we’re so used to it.

It’s probably because our childhood friendship is so solid that I naturally reconnected with Zhinian and grew closer to her.

Thinking about it, I owe Zhinian some clarity, don’t I? I can’t just let this ambiguous relationship drag on vaguely.

With almost zero dating experience, I started pondering how to face the vibrant and passionate Zhinian anew.