Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
It was really tiring to start dissing someone so bright and early in the morning, but Snowy Lionet made people want to diss it. Did it think that everyone was like Ximen Qing’s “Pan Lu Deng Xiao Xian”?
Amongst all of the elfins, only Snowy Lionet had long fur. All of the other cats, dogs, and monkeys had short hair, so only it had to shave it off. Of course, that didn’t mean that it had to shave so much that it looks like a Sphinx cat, completely hairless and helpless against the violent rays of the sun, but it had to at least shave it short. With how long Snowy Lionet’s fur was right now, it would at least have to make it one-tenth its current length.
But Snowy Lionet didn’t want to. It hadn’t been easy getting its fur so long and pretty. It had eaten so much cow’s stomach to get it to shine this much and be this soft!
If a lady had long, black, straight, outright gorgeous hair, she would grieve if she had to cut it too.
But if Snowy Lionet wanted to follow them to Egypt, it had to cut it short.
Zhang Zian gave it time to think about it instead of hovering over it, thinking that constantly talking to Snowy Lionet would just lower his level.
Snowy Lionet and Richard’s ruckus was loud enough to wake all of the other elfins from their sleep.
After Famous woke up, it lay there spacing out for a few moments, as though trying to differentiate between dreams and reality. Only after it snapped out of it did it pick up a mouth-cleansing doggy biscuit and ran downstairs. Zhang Zian felt that Richard should take a page out of its book.
Usually, Pi wasn’t the first one to wake up, but it didn’t purposefully sleep in, either. It usually turned on the computer the moment it woke up, making use of the time the computer needed to start up to rush to the bathroom and wash up. The moment it was done washing up, the computer was done starting up too.
But for the past few days, it had been down all morning. Even if it woke up, it merely stared at the ceiling, its eyes devoid of life and feeling, spacing out.
Zhang Zian knew that it was worried for its novel’s life and tried his best to comfort it, to get him to believe in the website and its employees—they would bring him justice. But even he knew that empty comfort was about as useful as a two-legged table.
Many fans of the book had heard of the issue through other means and sent over messages to encourage it as well, thinking of plans for it. It was relieved, but nothing could be done. Most of its fans were teens and young adults around twenty years of age and were not people with real power. The plans that they could conjure up had been thought of by Zhang Zian already, and they had all been rejected.
Pi was accepted by readers through its novel. Now that it had finally gotten rid of its gloomy mood, it was at risk of getting back into it at any time.
Zhang Zian walked over, lightheartedly persuading it. “Pi, why not take a long leave? Let the website take care of the matter. Let’s go for a walk in Egypt. Maybe by the time we’re back, all of the comments and conflict will have gone up in smoke…”
Pi turned over to face the wall, shriveling up even smaller and drawing its knees to its chin.
Zhang Zian sighed. He wanted to do more, but there was nothing he could contribute. This had already gotten out of his and their readers’ jurisdiction.
“Meow!”
Even Galaxy had woken up, rubbing its eyes and leaping out of the baby cot. The moment it turned over, it saw Zhang Zian, still worrying about Pi. With a few effortless leaps, it quickly came to the swinging bed and stood up on its hindlegs, its front paws latching onto the bed, pushing it like a swing.
“Meow! Pi, wake up!”
Pi still didn’t turn over. It merely waved its hand, wanting them to go away and leave it alone.
Zhang Zian gave Galaxy a look too, hinting to it to stop bothering Pi and give it some time to itself.
But it seemed like Galaxy hadn’t seen his look at all, and it didn’t give Pi the chance to lick at its wounds as it pushed the bed again. “Meow! Pi, wake up! The sun’s going to roast your butt red!”
Pi frantically pulled the blanket over its butt.
“Meow! Wake up! You still haven’t written your new chapter!” Galaxy kept pushing at the bed. “Galaxy will keep swinging you until you wake up!”
Pi was getting dizzy with all the swinging. It would end up vomiting if it really kept that up. So it could only turn around and sit up, holding onto the string to stop it from swinging.
“Cheep cheep!”
Pi was angry, gesturing at Galaxy wildly to ask it why it didn’t just leave it alone.
Zhang Zian was afraid they would end up fighting and immediately cut in, “Pi, since you’re awake, come out and take a walk or come play with everyone. You can tell us anything that’s on your mind. Don’t keep it to yourself.”
Pi shook its head. There was nothing to say.
Zhang Zian knew that it was introverted and that introverts usually had a harder time letting go of their frustrations.
Besides, he was confused too. Galaxy wasn’t an annoying personality like Richard was. Knowing that Pi was feeling horrible right now, why did it keep pestering Pi? Even Richard could see that PI was in a slump, and wouldn’t come disturb Pi at this moment.
Galaxy gracefully jumped onto the table with one leap.
Since they used it every day, the laptop had always been turned on. Galaxy put out its front paw, pressing the power button.
Whirr…
The computer turned on with a ding, and the hard drive started whirring to life, the startup screen flashing on the display.
“Meow! Pi, if you don’t write, then Galaxy’s going to write for you!”
Galaxy didn’t seem to be joking around. It really was fiddling with the mouse and smashing at the keyboard randomly.
Pi viewed its novel as something bigger than its life, and it was afraid that Galaxy would destroy the computer too. In its panic, it put aside its gloominess, hurrying out of the rattan bed and onto the chair, protecting the laptop with its arms out, like a mother eagle with its chicks.
Galaxy had already jumped aside.
“Meow! That’s the spirit!”
Galaxy swished its tail, happily rushing downstairs to play hide-and-seek with the Abynissian cats. It had used to warm up in the second floor with the American Shorthair, but since the cat had been returned to Aunt Liu, it no longer did that.
Pi was troubled and helpless. But since it had already gotten up, it should just sit before the computer as it had used to.
After a moment, the laptop booted up completely, automatically logging into the messenger app.
Ping!
The bald monk display picture of the editor in charge of them was blinking, showing that they had unread messages.
Pi hesitated, not daring to open it. Bad news had been constantly coming these past few days, and it had lost almost all of its courage in the constant barrage.
Zhang Zian had seen from the side as well. As a bystander, he could tolerate the stress and pressure better.
“Take a look. It might be good news.” He put his hand on Pi’s shoulder, encouraging it.
Pi lowered its head, silent.
“Alright, then I’ll look at it for you. If it’s good news, I’ll tell you.” He sighed. If it was bad news, then there was no point in saying it. They had been riddled with too much bad news recently.
He held onto the mouse in Pi’s place and clicked it.
There was only one sentence that the editor in charge had left for them: “Wait for the clouds to pass to see the brightness of the moon.”
