An ordinary weekend.
An ordinary small apartment.
Jiang Cheng curled up in a beanbag chair by the floor-to-ceiling window, dozing off, just as she always did. Sunlight streamed through the glass, dust particles floating in the air—just like any other summer afternoon.
But this afternoon, something changed. Jiang Cheng’s eyes snapped open mid-nap—an electric current, seemingly from nowhere, raced through her body, leaving her weak, numb, her fingers spasming.
It was as if a switch had been flipped in her brain. Information that had been sealed away for who knew how long came flooding in like a dam breaking.
Jiang Cheng’s pupils contracted. She remembered everything!
She wasn’t from this world. She was a transmigrator.
When the current faded, she rolled onto the floor, drenched in cold sweat, gasping for air.
She closed her eyes and stayed still for a while, sorting through and absorbing the flood of information in her mind.
She still had all the memories of growing up as “Jiang Cheng”—childhood, teenage years, university, her parents’ passing, graduation, standing up to relatives, selling the house, moving alone to this city, settling down. And yet, she now clearly knew that she was a transmigrator, from a different world.
But who was she before transmigrating? What kind of world had she come from? When did she cross over? That was all a blank—no information at all.
Jiang Cheng rubbed her face, sat up, and held her hands out in front of her, looking at them. She took a moment to feel her body—there didn’t seem to be any noticeable change. She had full control over it.
Still, being told now that this body might not even be hers was a hard pill to swallow.
Until the moment she awakened, she had possessed a complete, lifelong memory of “Jiang Cheng”—an entirely ordinary person’s life.
She glanced around her apartment. Though it was just a small studio, the floor-to-ceiling windows were bright, and the decor was warm.
The layout resembled a hotel room—the bathroom just inside the entrance, and beyond it, a single open space. Near the windows were a sofa, a TV wall, a dining table, and a sideboard. Near the back was the bed, with a wardrobe at the foot. There was also a computer desk that doubled as a vanity, holding makeup and a laptop.
No balcony—just a uniquely shaped floor-to-ceiling window that jutted out, creating an extra nook where the beanbag chair sat, perfect for sunbathing.
After buying this apartment with what was left of her parents’ inheritance, she still had some savings. Her salary wasn’t generous, but it was enough to support herself, to live a reasonably comfortable little life in this city.
It was ordinary, unremarkable—but perhaps nothing to complain about. Or maybe it was just that sitting there in the sunlight streaming through the window made it easy to feel a lazy sort of contentment.
This sudden awakening to another life’s memories seemed utterly meaningless to her current existence.
So… let it be.
She turned her gaze to the window and saw someone walking a pet downstairs. Jiang Cheng picked up her phone and checked the time.
Since living alone didn’t put much strain on her finances, she had upgraded to the newest model phone this year. A sleek, clamshell flip phone with nine comfortable keys, a color screen, and even a built-in camera—so you could use the phone like a camera.
This phone was the latest model of the year, arguably the most advanced personal device in this world. The joy and novelty she’d felt when she first got it were still fresh in Jiang Cheng’s memory. That was only a few months ago.
But now, holding this cutting-edge phone in her hand, she somehow no longer felt that fondness. There was even a hint of… dissatisfaction?
She felt that this thing didn’t quite meet her expectations, wasn’t worthy of her liking.
Why had she liked it so much before?
Because before, you hadn’t awakened.
Jiang Cheng realized that although she still hadn’t unlocked her memories from before transmigrating, her true self was already beginning to influence “Jiang Cheng’s” existing perceptions and consciousness.
The screen showed nearly 3:00 PM.
At this time on a weekend, she should…
“Meow~”
A cat cried out from downstairs.
Jiang Cheng peered down and saw two cats already gazing up at her window.
“Coming! Coming!” Jiang Cheng hurried to her feet.
Because the youth apartments have small layouts, some owners buy them as investments rather than living in them themselves, renting them out instead. Tenants come and go, and there are always some heartless people who abandon their pets when they leave, leading to quite a few stray cats in the neighborhood.
This time on the weekend was when she fed the cats.
Jiang Cheng quickly gathered cat food and bowls, grabbed her bag, and headed downstairs.
By the time she appeared, four or five stray cats had already gathered below—all regulars she usually saw.
When she approached, two cats came up to rub against her legs, while the others retreated warily, looking for cover to observe from. It was easy to tell which ones had just been abandoned and which had been stray for a long time and been hurt by humans before.
Jiang Cheng crouched down to pet the two friendly cats, then walked through the community garden to her usual spot. She took out two bowls, filling one with cat food and the other with bottled drinking water.
Compared to food, finding clean water outdoors was harder for cats.
The spot was on one side of the garden path, carefully chosen by Jiang Cheng. Across the path was a bench for residents to rest on. Jiang Cheng would set everything up, then retreat to sit on that bench across the way, maintaining a safe distance. Only then would the wary cats come over to eat.
Ideally, she would take the strays home and adopt them.
But Jiang Cheng’s parents had passed away before she graduated. After that, she had gone through their funeral, graduation, job hunting, selling the house, buying an apartment, moving, adjusting to the workplace—a whole series of events, all of which she faced alone. Having to deal with both entering society and being completely isolated at the same time, she wasn’t yet sure if she could take on the responsibility of owning a pet.
People who have lost loved ones tend to be especially cautious about life, death, and separation. She was afraid she might give up and abandon a pet herself, so she was still holding back.
But now, sitting on the bench and watching the cats across the path—some happily, some warily—eating cat food and drinking clean water, Jiang Cheng felt as though the world had completely changed and yet remained exactly the same. So what if she remembered being a transmigrator? She still had to go to work on Monday, still had to earn a salary, still had to eat, drink, and take care of her basic needs.
With that thought, Jiang Cheng let it go.
Transmigrator or not, nothing was different.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then turned her gaze—only to notice a black cat sitting at the other end of the bench.
Completely black, not a single hair of another color, its coat glossy and dark.
The black cat sat quietly on the bench, just like Jiang Cheng, watching the cats across the path. From this angle, its profile looked almost baby-faced.
There was something a bit lonely about its demeanor.
When you spend a lot of time around animals, you easily develop the habit of talking to them—especially if you live alone.
“Are you new here?” Jiang Cheng asked.
She didn’t necessarily know every cat that competed for the food, but she was certain she hadn’t seen this black cat before.
The black cat ignored her.
“Kitty~” Jiang Cheng tentatively reached out a hand. “Kitty~”
Just as she was about to touch it, the black cat tilted its head and dodged her hand.
Like a little person. It had attitude—not the clingy, affectionate type.
Jiang Cheng had been scratched several times before finally learning how to keep an appropriate distance from cats. Since the little black cat didn’t want to be touched, she withdrew her hand. “Go eat some cat food, or they’ll finish it all.”
The black cat paid her no attention, simply watching the group of cats squabble over the food.
Cats could be very quiet, but Jiang Cheng couldn’t shake the feeling that this black cat was strangely still. Maybe it was just because black cats always seemed a little mystical?
White cats were often bullied by other cats, but that didn’t mean other cats never were.
Jiang Cheng couldn’t help glancing at the cats across the path, then turned back and asked softly, “…Are they picking on you?”
This time, the black cat actually turned its head and looked at her.
Did animals have expressions in their eyes? They did. Especially cats and dogs.
The black cat glanced at her, then looked away. But that look—Jiang Cheng didn’t think it was the pitiful look of a bullied creature. It was more like Sang Biao (a tough, scrappy cat).
Cold and aloof.
The black cat lifted its paw and began licking it.
Jiang Cheng reached out toward the black cat again, this time moving slowly, stopping with her hand still a short distance from its head.
She had just touched the cat food, so her fingertips carried the smell. There was no way a cat could resist that.
Sure enough, even the aloof little black cat twitched its nose and turned its head toward her. It seemed reluctant, but instinct won out in the end. It leaned in and sniffed Jiang Cheng’s fingertips, then smacked its lips.
Jiang Cheng smiled. After the little black cat finished sniffing, she raised her hand and gently stroked its furry head.
The little black cat flinched slightly, but perhaps because it had already sniffed her fingers, it wasn’t as resistant as before. Jiang Cheng softly rubbed the top of its head.
Even a tough cat like Sang Biao couldn’t fight instinct. The love of having its head and chin scratched was an innate feline trait.
After a few strokes, the little black cat seemed to relax.
Jiang Cheng urged it, “Go eat quickly, or they’ll finish it all.”
As if it understood, the little black cat actually glanced across the way. Its gaze rested on the strays fighting over the food, watching them intently.
“Go on,” Jiang Cheng said, gently giving it a small push.
But the little black cat suddenly hissed at her!
Jiang Cheng was startled and quickly withdrew her hand.
The black cat turned its head and licked the spot where she had pushed it.
Sensing something wrong, Jiang Cheng tried to get a closer look, but the cat’s head blocked her view. She raised her hand and saw a trace of red on the back of her finger—the spot where she had pushed the little black cat. It turned out the cat was injured.
“You’re hurt?” Jiang Cheng hesitated for a moment, then stood up. “Stay here, good kitty. Wait for me.”
Jiang Cheng ran back upstairs.
She had read up on cat care in pet forums and knew that some medications could be used on both humans and cats.
She grabbed the medicine and quickly ran back down, afraid the little black cat might leave. Fortunately, it was still on the bench.
“This might sting a little,” Jiang Cheng tried to reassure the little black cat. “Stay calm, don’t be scared.”
But what effect could human words have on a cat? Jiang Cheng aimed at the wound and pressed the nozzle. The medicine sprayed onto the cat’s injury with a puff, causing a sharp sting.
The little black cat let out a sharp cry and, lightning-fast, sprang from the bench and dove into the bushes!
Jiang Cheng crouched down to look, but the pitch-black cat had disappeared completely into the shadows.
“Sigh.” Jiang Cheng was a bit worried. She had only sprayed once, and although it seemed to have hit the wound, she didn’t know if it was enough.
One by one, the stray cats finished eating and left.
Jiang Cheng went over to clean up. There was still some cat food and water left in the bowls. She picked them up, then glanced back at the bench.
She carried both bowls back over and set them beside the bench, then crouched down and called out a few times: “Kitty, kitty—”
Unfortunately, the little black cat didn’t come out.
But Jiang Cheng decided to leave the food and water there, just in case the unsociable little black cat got hungry. She could come back tomorrow to collect the bowls.
“Kitty, kitty—” she called into the bushes. “There’s food here. Come eat when you’re hungry.”
After she left, the sun slowly sank, the sky blushed with evening glow, and the shadows of the trees stretched long. Eventually, darkness fell completely.
The streetlights came on right on time, little insects fluttering around the bulbs.
The bushes suddenly rustled faintly, and the cat, black as the night itself, emerged. It had been hiding in the bushes all along, using its dark fur as camouflage, watching Jiang Cheng warily.
But after that initial sharp sting, the wound on its body was clearly feeling much better.
The little black cat vaguely understood.
Its stomach growled with hunger. It looked at the two bowls Jiang Cheng had left, walked over, and licked them clean.
It sniffed the empty bowls. They carried the girl’s scent.
The black cat committed that scent to memory.
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