Zhou Yining named the cat Coffee for a simple reason: its fur was black, and Ji Dongyang loved black coffee.

She became a cat lady, a proud poop-scooper, playing with it every day. With her around, Ji Dongyang barely had to care for the cat, though the creature loved to provoke him. Every time he and Zhou Yining tried to get intimate on the sofa, Coffee would interfere. At night, it insisted on following them into the bedroom.

If he refused, Coffee would meow for an hour straight.

Yining wanted to let the cat in, but Dongyang disagreed. They even bickered over it. Ji Dongyang said: “Coffee has its own bed. I think it should sleep there at night instead of taking up the space between us. It will become a habit.”

Ji Dongyang had a bit of a clean-freak streak. He could raise and pamper a cat, but he would not let it on his bed. Most importantly, it was a massive distraction.

The final compromise: Yining could play with the cat on the bed, but it could not stay overnight.

Dongyang had not expected raising a cat to be such a hassle. Zhou Yining asked: “Am I a hassle too?”

He chuckled but did not answer.

She shoved Coffee into his arms and stared at the feline. “Look, Coffee is getting fat.”

It was tiny when they first got it, but in just over a month, it had grown significantly. It was likely to become a chunky cat.

Coffee lazily stretched across Dongyang’s lap, curling into a ball. Ji Dongyang scratched its belly with his finger, and the cat squinted in bliss. He smiled.

After a while, Yining moved the cat aside and straddled Dongyang’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Are you leaving tomorrow?”

Tomorrow was the day he left for the US. Two weeks later, Zhou Yining would return home to prepare for her new movie. Since last year, they had been fortunate enough to be in the same crews for two projects, barely spending a day apart. The thought of being separated for months left her feeling down.

Worse yet, Ji Dongyang was taking Coffee with him! She had no time to care for the cat, so she had to leave it to him.

He looked at her with a knowing smile. “Are you sad to see me go, or the cat?”

“Both,” she said immediately.

He laughed softly. “I will visit the set when I have time.”

“What about Coffee?”

“It cannot come.”

Taking it from the UK to the US was already a logistical nightmare. Bringing it back for a set visit was out of the question. Yining smiled. “Fine. You better take good care of Coffee.”

He pulled her into his embrace. “You take care of yourself.”

She nuzzled his shoulder. “Mm. You too.”

That night, they curled up on the sofa to watch a movie. On the eve of his departure, neither paid attention to the screen. He pulled her close for a kiss. Yining, ever the provocateur, slid her hand under his shirt. Coffee rubbed against his feet, meowing occasionally and nuzzling his legs with its furry head. It was a professional at stealing scenes.

He ignored the cat. Yining was slightly distracted. The next second, he opened his eyes to stare at her, sucking her lips firmly. It hurt a little. She glared, her hands tightening around his neck as she kissed back fiercely, biting his lip.

Their breathing grew heavy.

Coffee’s meowing grew louder.

Ji Dongyang swept her up and carried her into the bedroom.

Coffee followed, only to be tossed out immediately. It could only meow and scratch at the door.

“Coffee is crying outside…”

“Do you want it to come in and cry with you?”

“…”

After he left for America, Yining returned to China early. Wan Wei immediately moved her schedule forward. Yining was exhausted. On the way to every event, she was either sleeping or memorizing scripts. Her new film, The Suspect, started filming on August 6.

While she was busy filming, Ji Dongyang’s life in the US was much more relaxed. Between his courses, he had tea with friends and teased the cat. She only found out through their chats that he knew Hollywood superstars. On second thought, considering the international events he had attended, it was not surprising.

He never posted about his private life on Weibo, so even his fans did not know he was so close to international icons.

“Can’t you take a photo for me?” she asked.

A moment later, he sent a few.

She stared at the only Asian face in the photos. He was as handsome as ever. Perhaps because of the vacation, or the passage of time, or because of Coffee, there was a newfound warmth in his expression, a smile in his eyes.

She looked at the photo for a long time before replying: “Ji Dongyang, you look… mm, bigger than before.”

Dongyang: “Mm. I have been hitting the gym with friends lately.”

Yining: “Don’t you dare turn into a muscle monster like that Middle Eastern guy next to you. I don’t like it.”

She liked his lean, well-proportioned body: firm and powerful. Muscle men with bulging veins and arms bigger than her head were ugly.

He laughed and called her directly.

“I won’t,” he said softly.

“You had better not,” she huffed.

“How is Coffee?” she asked.

He looked at the cat by his feet. “Fat.”

She laughed. After chatting for a bit, she asked: “Can you come back at the end of the month?”

“Do you want me back that badly?” he teased.

“It is your birthday.”

He glanced at the cat again. “I will try.”

Birthdays were not important to him. If he was on set, the crew would celebrate. If he was alone, he would not bother.

The birthday was just an excuse. They had not seen each other in nearly two months.

On September 20, Ji Dongyang returned to visit her.

Since the film festival, he had not appeared in the country. The moment he landed, the paparazzi spotted him.

They hit the headlines and trending searches that very day.

Ji Dongyang returns to visit Zhou Yining: three days and two nights in a hotel.

Ji Dongyang returns to celebrate his 34th birthday with his girlfriend: overwhelming sweetness.

The reason for Ji Dongyang’s months of disappearance.

On the third day, Yining struggled to wake up early for the set. Ji Dongyang’s flight back was in the afternoon, and she had no time to see him off.

He sat by the bed, watching her change rapidly and toss things into her bag.

She did not use a wallet. She used to carry stacks of cash in her bag, having only a small coin purse. After Dongyang made her stop carrying so much cash, she still had not bought a wallet. This time, he brought her one: an LV magazine edition: quite expensive.

He walked over, organized her cash, put it in the wallet, and handed it to her.

She looked up with a playful smile and shoved it into her backpack. “I’m off.”

“Mm,” he nodded softly.

He leaned against the desk as she walked to the door. Her hand gripped the handle before she suddenly turned and ran back to him. He seemed to have expected it, opening his arms as she jumped onto him. He supported her soft hips with one hand and pressed her waist with the other. He turned and sat her on the desk, leaning down to kiss her.

Minutes later, she panted against his chest. “When are you coming back next?”

Their foreheads touched. “Late next month,” he whispered.

“Alright,” she nodded.

She slid off the desk and pushed him away. “Then I’m going to the set.”

He ruffled her hair. “Mm.”

That night, when she returned to the hotel, he was gone.

She had to wait until the end of next month.

Life was busy and fulfilling. Every day was spent in anticipation.

As the end of the year approached, his return date drew near. In six months, he had spent over a month in the UK and visited China twice. Aside from one commercial and two magazine shoots, he had been incredibly low-profile. No one knew what he was doing abroad, let alone when he would return.

But the paparazzi were clever: they only had to watch Zhou Yining to find his tracks.

Sure enough, on the night of December 30, Yining went to the airport.

After a thirty-minute wait, a tall, familiar figure emerged, followed by A Ming and Yang Xun.

His itinerary was secret, so no fans were there.

Yining pulled open the car door and ran toward him.

He picked up his pace. She leaped onto him, and he dropped everything in his hands.

Coffee rolled around in its carrier, meowing indignantly.

Yining realized he had brought the cat. She quickly slid off him and knelt to look. The creature had grown much heavier: it was fat, soft, and adorable.

He knelt down too. If not for the cat, he could have returned a week earlier.

She stroked the cat’s fur and smiled. “Coffee is so fat. How did you feed him?”

“Is he fat?” he frowned.

“Actually, he’s fine,” she laughed.

Not exactly fat, just round and cute.

He smirked, pulling her and the cat up together. “Let’s go home first.”

She nodded, carrying Coffee to the backseat. A Ming put the luggage in the trunk and got behind the wheel.

Yang Xun looked at Wan Wei, who was standing nearby, and said to Dongyang: “Come to the office tomorrow.”

“Mm.”

He got into the car.

A Ming knew they were being followed. “Dong-ge, where are we staying tonight?”

“My place,” Yining said.

It was the same: he had a flat across from hers, and she had been staying there lately.

“Listen to her,” he said.

A Ming felt like he was being forced to eat dog food. “Alright.”

They arrived home around ten. His place was kept clean by a housekeeper, so it was ready for them. At the door, he asked: “Which side?”

Yining went straight to his door and entered the code. “I put Coffee’s bed over here.”

So, they were staying at his place tonight.

Dongyang unpacked while Yining played with Coffee. The cat adapted well to new environments. She watched it explore and couldn’t help but laugh.

Half an hour later, she heard the shower running.

She moved Coffee off her lap and went into the bedroom. Coffee strutted in after her.

She wanted to spend his birthday with him, so he came back.

Her birthday was coming, so he came back.

She wondered if there were any gifts.

Ji Dongyang had not really given her many gifts before, and she did not care. Neither was big on formalities or forced romance. Everything was natural. His first gift was Coffee.

The trip before was a wallet.

Before that was a bag.

This time… surely it would not be another bag?

She opened the wardrobe: nothing. She scanned the desk and sofa: nothing.

She was not disappointed. She had a gift for him too: a New Year’s gift.

It was the first time she had bought him a present.

While he was still showering, she ran home to fetch her gift. When she returned, he was finished, drying his hair and watching her quietly.

She hid her hands behind her back. Just as she was about to speak, his phone rang.

He walked to the living room, checked the caller, and went to the balcony.

She watched his back, then went to the bedroom and opened the second drawer by the bed. Just as she was about to put her gift inside, she froze.

A delicate square box was lying there.

She put her item inside, picked up the box, and opened it.

She took the ring out and stared at it for a while before slowly sliding it onto her ring finger. It was beautiful and fit perfectly. She loved it.

She heard footsteps and his deep, displeased voice: “Coffee, out.”

She quickly closed the drawer. The ring was still on her finger. She clenched her fist and looked at the door.

Coffee was locked in a battle of wits with the man.

A minute later, Coffee lost.

The door closed.

Yining laughed, standing up for the cat. “He just arrived at his new home tonight. Isn’t that a bit cruel?”

He smirked and walked toward her.

He turned off the main light, leaving only a warm orange lamp.

She looked up at him.

The next second, she was pushed onto the bed, his heavy body pressing down.

Her hand stroked his chest, his abdomen, his arms. His muscles were even firmer than before. She could not tell through the winter clothes, but now she realized his physique had changed significantly: right within her preferred range.

She loved the strength in his body, her hands roaming over him.

The next second, he pushed her legs apart.

Passion surged. Her fair face flushed pink, her eyes moist and soft as she looked straight into his.

He looked down at the tattoo on her chest. Under the black cat, a string of English letters had been added: his name.

He leaned down to kiss it.

“I got it for you,” she whispered.

“Mm,” he hummed.

He knew.

“Does it hurt?”

“It was bearable.”

“Mm. Don’t get any more.”

He buried his face in her chest, his voice raspy.

She agreed, her fingers tangling in his hair, her breath hitching.

He habitually pinned her hands to the pillow, their fingers interlacing. He was about to move when he paused. His dark eyes locked onto her slender finger: a ring was shining there.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at her.

Yining was left in a state of agonizing suspension. She rubbed her legs against his waist, arching her back. He did not move, just stared at her.

She could not take it anymore. She looked at him, her voice sultry. “I love it.”

The next second, he lunged deep.

She arched her back. “Ah… you…”

Words failed her.

Their bodies swayed like waves, drowning in the tide of passion.

They finished two hours later.

She curled into a ball under him, shivering slightly.

He was still pressed against her, still inside her. He took her hand and kissed the ring, his dark eyes deep and heavy, his voice low and raspy:

“Let’s get married next year, alright?”

“Alright.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, she agreed.

The next morning, she pressed him: “How were you originally planning to propose?”

“I had not planned it yet,” he said.

Later, she saw a note on his schedule for August.

Note: Movie wrap. Take her on a trip.

Before the New Year, he took her back to H City for Lu Xiao’s wedding. The bride was someone he met through a blind date: she was beautiful.

“When is it your turn?” Lu Xiao teased.

“Soon,” Dongyang said calmly.

The day after the wedding, he took her to his parents’ home. He was quiet throughout the drive. She squeezed his hand. “Do you not want me to see them?”

“No,” he looked at her. “Promise me: no matter what they say later, don’t take it to heart, okay?”

She had heard from Lu Xiao that his parents had terrible tempers and were never kind to him. Because he had been firm about their drug use, they were even more resentful. However, after the last incident, they had settled down. They likely would not dare touch drugs again.

“Alright,” she nodded.

She never associated him with his parents.

No matter how terrible they were, he was the best man.

At the Ji home, he rang the bell. His mother opened the door, looking at him and Yining.

“Hello, Auntie,” Yining said politely.

“Oh, come in,” she smiled.

He led Yining inside.

“Where is he?” he asked, looking around.

“Out buying booze.”

She looked at Yining. “I know you. You won the Best Actress award. I saw you on TV. Your father is the chairman of the Zhou Group, and your mother is a famous photographer…”

“Mm,” Yining nodded.

“That’s good. It’s good that you’re with Dongyang.”

A while later, she went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Yining thought: maybe his parents are not that bad.

Suddenly, the door opened. A man in his sixties walked in. He was tall and thin, his eyes slightly cloudy. Ji Dongyang did not look like him at all.

He looked at them and started shouting: “You little brat, you finally remember to come back? I thought you forgot I was your old man!”

“This girl is the daughter of the Zhou family from S City, right? A socialite, I know. You made so much money yourself, and your girlfriend is also…”

Before he could finish.

Ji Dongyang stood up and cut him off coldly: “Have you said enough?”

The man flew into a rage. “You dare talk to your father like that!”

His mother rushed out to hold him back. “He finally came home. Can’t you just stop for once?”

The man grumbled and finally quieted down.

The meal was unpleasant.

As they left, Yining hugged him tightly. “I didn’t expect your father to be like that.”

His mother was alright, somewhat protective.

But that father: he was nothing like a father.

Dongyang was silent for a while. “He isn’t my biological father,” he said.

Yining’s eyes widened. He smirked mockingly. “I only found out six or seven years ago. My mother was already pregnant when she married him.”

He had been decent to them when Dongyang was a child, but as he grew, his temper flared: he gambled and drank, sometimes hitting him.

Back then, Dongyang endured it because he thought the man was his father. As he grew taller and stronger, the man stopped hitting him. When he started making money acting, the man started being “kind” to him.

Until seven years ago, when Dongyang caught them using drugs. During the fight, the truth slipped out.

She looked at him. He was a man: a thirty-four-year-old man.

He did not need her comfort.

He was just telling her the truth.

She hugged him, nuzzling his chest like a cat.

“Let’s go to the airport,” he ruffled her hair.

He had not wanted her involved in such messy things.

From now on, she only had to be by his side.

After the New Year, she saw a new script he had brought back: Anti-Terrorism.

“Want to see?” he asked.

She nodded, and he handed it over.

It was a high-octane action film.

“I recommended you to the director,” he said. “There’s a female role. Not many scenes, but the most important female part in the movie.”

She looked up and winked. “Do you often recommend actresses?”

“The first time,” he smiled.

She laughed. “Do I need to audition?”

“Mm,” he stood up and patted her head. “So, do your best.”

“…”

After passing the audition, she realized the cast list: one of the Hollywood stars from the photo was in it. It was a joint Chinese-American production.

She was stunned, then ran to him in excitement.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

“It’s the same telling you now.”

“…No wonder you’ve been working out so hard these past six months.”

It had been nearly a year, and he had not taken any scripts. She had been worried his career was suffering.

Ji Dongyang was leaning against the balcony railing. Sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows: warm and lazy.

He was smiling.

She watched him.

She suddenly remembered the curse she had placed on him: to be alone forever.

Now, she only wanted to hold this man’s hand until they were old.

(End of Main Story)