698: To Cherish

To Cherish

Zeke was stunned when he heard that. He was so caught off guard by this sudden revelation that he failed to notice how this man had answered and treated him like a human being. What did he just hear? He was not breathing…? How was it possible?2

However, when he pondered deeper about it, he felt like it was quite reasonable as well. After all, the kitten had been very weak and fragile when he woke up in its body. If not for the fact that Zeke knew the Imperial Palace was nearby and his determination to get there even if he had to drag his stiff body to it, the kitten would have already frozen itself to death. 

All of a sudden, he thought of another similar occasion. So previously when he woke up to find the stupid assassin's face so close to him, it was because he was checking whether Zeke was still breathing or not? 

Relieved, Zeke secretly patted his back for his stubbornness on returning so soon. Otherwise, what if this man assumed he had died in his sleep and went out to bury him? Then wouldn't he wake up under the hard soil?! Just thinking about it was enough to make his skin break out in goosebumps.

Now that the misunderstanding was solved, Zeke could not even get angry anymore. He plopped his butt down to the bed and licked his paws while grumbling ceaselessly. "Miw miw miw…" I won't die. Don't do something like that again next time. You almost scared me to death, okay?

By now, the assassin had gotten used to how moody and talkative the kitten he inadvertently picked up was. Without saying anything, he turned around and reheated the milk that Zeke had not drunk before he slept. Of course, the kitten's little belly had gotten hungry again and Zeke finished the milk in great satisfaction. He had learned from his previous shameful experience not to be overly greedy. He took his sweet time to lick the milk bit by bit. At last, Zeke felt so proud of himself for not making a mess anymore.

All the while, he observed the assassin from the corner of his eyes.

As it turned out, this man was not only reclusive, but his daily activity was also boring as hell! If he did not sit in front of the window to stare at the barren scenery outside, then he was either making food for himself or cleaning the cabin – despite the fact that it was already spotless to the point where nothing could be cleaned anymore. He did not own a terminal, nor did he have a physical book to read. Seriously, it was very novel to know that such a bummer existed in this world. If he had not looked so young and handsome, Zeke would have thought that he was an old man in disguise!

As the only living companion of the assassin, Zeke considered it his task to make the man's life a little more colorful. There was no shortage of shenanigans a kitten could come up to. He could play with anything and everything, and even though the assassin tended to ignore him, he could still amuse himself to no end!

Take this occasion for example. When the stupid assassin was zoning out again, Zeke entertained himself by trying to make a tear on the hem of the man's pants. He chomped down fiercely then shook his head side to side, making small growls from the base of his throat. In this way, he successfully attracted the assassin's attention even if it was only to nudge his body away.

When the assassin discovered that Zeke would come back fiercer every time he was pushed away, he finally showed a helpless look. "Stop that." Before Zeke could react, the assassin bent down to scoop him up, then placed him on his lap. Zeke stilled when he felt the man's cold fingers around his middle. He hypnotized himself by saying that he was a cat again and again, and a cat was not supposed to feel shy when someone touched its belly!

A gentle stroke of the assassin's knuckles landed on his head, stiff at first, only to become more and more fluid by each second. "Why are you so playful?" he asked with a hint of helplessness in his deep and slightly husky voice.

Zeke butted his head against the man's broad palm. "Miw…!" Isn't it because of how boring you are? Look, I have even gone to great pains to entertain you!

Of course, the assassin did not understand the righteous sacrifice Zeke had done for him. His fingers stroked Zeke's head, again and again, and as much as Zeke hated to admit it, it felt quite… good to be touched like this. It made him recall the time when the assassin dug him out of the pile of snow. Back then, he had also used the same gentleness to treat him…

Zeke paused when another twinge nudged on the corner of his heart. This time, it was different from the nasty discomfort he had felt before. Even though it was still aching a bit, Zeke found that he did not hate this feeling. 

Shamelessly, he made himself comfortable on the assassin's lap with his short limbs sprawled wide like a lazy starfish. He stretched his neck up for more pats. The assassin paused for a second before he awkwardly complied. Now he did not only stroke Zeke's head but he also used his broad palm to smooth the messy fur on Zeke's back. Aside from how cold the assassin's hand was, Zeke did not have any complaints regarding this gentle and soothing treatment.

Just like that, one human and one cat spent their harmonious time together. One was so comfortable for being caressed that he dozed off with a purr on his throat, whereas the other was lost in thought as he marveled at how warm and soft the kitten's body was. 

Perhaps because of his profession, he had gotten used to small animals avoiding and fearing him. He had read somewhere that animals, especially the weaker ones, would be able to tell if someone had blood on their hands and it made them subconsciously regard the other as a predator. Sometimes, when the stench of blood on his body was so thick, those little animals would scamper away frantically from him as if they had met their great nemesis. However… it was a different case altogether for this kitten.

Not only did it not avoid or fear him, it even willingly got close to him and snuggled against him. 

He could not help but fall into a trance. This was the first time that he had a warm and fragile life in his hands – not to kill, but to cherish…

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