The dinner took place at a modest Chaozhou private kitchen—though “private kitchen” was generous; it looked more like a humble street-side eatery. Authentic Chaozhou cuisine lived or died by ingredient freshness. Those light, delicate flavors demanded it. One hint of staleness, and the seasoned foodies would not hesitate to show their displeasure.
“Eat up,” Feng Mingdong said, placing a peeled shrimp into the soy sauce dish before Feng Yijiu.
“Is that all you’re giving her, Old Feng?” Li Xun chuckled.
“Yep.” Seeing Yijiu didn’t refuse, Feng Mingdong added a piece of fish to her plate.
“Come to think of it, I’ve got one too,” Li Xun said with a helpless shrug. “That rascal’s been up to who-knows-what lately. Sigh… I’ve long lost the energy to keep up with him.”
“When you have time, Yijiu, chat with Uncle Li’s son Hao,” Feng Mingdong added with a laugh. “He’s quite the academic star.”
“Academic star? Hardly,” Li Xun said wryly. “He only struts around at Boya. I’m constantly cleaning up his messes. If he somehow gets into a top-tier university on his own merit, I’ll be burning incense and thanking our ancestors.”
“Boya’s no small feat—the top private high school,” Feng Mingdong smiled.
“So… Yijiu, which school are you at?” Li Xun asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
“That’s exactly why we’re here to see you, Old Li,” Feng Mingdong laughed. “Yijiu, let’s toast Uncle Li. You can have tea.”
…
“What on earth are you doing, running to the gynecology ward again?” Dong Shu glared at her son, not even using his childhood nickname.
“Mom, I’m just here to see you…” Li Hao said with an ingratiating grin.
“Out! Out! Out!” Dong Shu felt utterly flustered. She was only here for acupuncture therapy—why did he look so solemn? “How old are you? Get out! It’s not like you’ll find a wife in this ward full of middle-aged women.”
Li Hao slunk out of the ward, embarrassed. He glanced at the garden below. A girl in white stood there again. Her silhouette was *next-level*. The moment she turned her head—Li Hao spun and bolted.
“Damn it… Weren’t spirits forbidden after the founding of the PRC?!”
…
At home, Feng Yijiu had been feeling low these past days—what she called the “aftermath of disarmament.” Even her favorite anime and games felt dull.
*Is this what “physically severing the root of troubles” feels like?* she thought irritably. She’d been unusually on edge.
After lazing in bed briefly, a sharp twinge shot through her lower abdomen, radiating to her upper thighs.
“Ugh…” Clutching her stomach, she rushed to the bathroom.
Something felt wrong. Why did it hurt *this* much?
Pale-faced, she stared at the bloodstain on the tissue. *My wound tore open.*
*So… massive bleeding? Gloriously contributing to medical science?* Since transmigrating, her life had been one rollercoaster drop after another.
Trembling, she called Cen Man. “Sis Manman… my wound tore. Yeah. Heavy bleeding.”
“What?!” Cen Man shot up from her desk. “Stay calm! I’ll get Dr. Niu—” She paused. “Wait. Cramps?”
“Mm.”
“Coming in waves?”
“Yes… thighs hurt too…” Yijiu sat on the toilet, brows knotted tight.
“Phew. Serious,” Cen Man said, voice shifting to calm authority. “First aid yourself. Still bleeding?”
“Mm.”
“Stay seated. In the outer pocket of the hospital bag—take one out…”
“Wait! Heavy bleeding—shouldn’t I go to the hospital?”
“Well… it *is* heavy bleeding. Cyclical.” A hint of laughter crept into Cen Man’s voice. “You’ve started your period. Great news! Your body’s getting back on track, Yijiu.”
“But… it *hurts*…” After hanging up, Yijiu tried to erase Cen Man’s mysterious smile from her mind. Clutching her stomach, she felt utterly wrecked. If only she’d known this was *normal*…
Why… why did it have to be the most unreasonable menstrual cramps? After sticking on a “miracle” pad and placing a hot water bottle on her belly, she collapsed onto the sofa, gaze vacant.
“Meow…” Right on cue, Orange pranced out—hips swaying, tail flicking, bursting with restless energy.
Yijiu’s unfocused eyes slowly sharpened. Her gaze locked onto Orange. Unblinking.
The look was… unnerving.
Sensing danger, Orange bolted for the highest perch of his cat tree.
Too late. Yijiu seized him by the scruff.
“Come here, Orange. Be a good boy,” she cooed, forcing eye contact with a sweet smile. “How about I take you to get neutered? Solve your troubles at the source!”
“Meow~” Orange whimpered weakly.
“What? You said ‘meow’? So thoughtful!” Yijiu stroked his head with feigned emotion. “So reasonable. Don’t worry—I’ll find you a *great* vet!”
After “thoroughly considering” the cat’s opinion, the “democratic” Feng Yijiu gritted through the pain, trembling as she carried the carrier out of the compound.
“Doctor… I’m counting on you,” she told the vet, paying without hesitation.
…
“Yijiu! Your transfer’s finalized!” Feng Mingdong announced cheerfully—then froze. Two listless figures lay sprawled: Yijiu curled on the sofa with a hot water bottle like a brooding hen, and Orange perched lifelessly on the cat tree. At the door’s sound, both turned heads in eerie unison.
The room felt unnaturally cold.
For a split second, Feng Mingdong wanted to close the door. But steeling himself, he stepped inside.
“What’s wrong with Orange today?” he murmured. *Could NetEase Cloud’s gloom really be contagious across species?*
“Nothing much,” Yijiu said lightly, bare legs swinging with quiet satisfaction. “Orange is just… Little Orange now.”
Feng Mingdong’s eyes shifted to the utterly dejected cat—no, *Little Orange*—and his expression became utterly priceless.
