Xu Ye: ??
She had barely clicked into David’s profile for a few seconds before being caught red-handed. And David actually called her “woman.” Could it have discovered her human identity?
Every time Xu Ye chatted with David, her cover felt like it was teetering on the edge of being blown. This constant flirting with danger was far too exhilarating.
With a mix of trepidation and deliberation, she crafted her reply to David.
[Xiao Bai: The thought of you carrying me to glory tonight excites me beyond measure, so I looked at your profile to ease my longing.]
[David: You’re quite eloquent. By the way, another cat recommended a novel to me called ‘She Escapes Hard, He Chases Hard, Love Takes Flight.’ I think it’s pretty interesting.]
[David: For example: ‘His chiseled side profile remained cold and aloof. Sensing my gaze, he turned and said to me, “Woman, what are you sneaking around for?”]
[Little White: A chiseled side profile??? You should read fewer novels—they’re bad for cats.]
David brushed it off with a casual “Mm-hmm,” but Xu Ye felt certain it had gone back to reading that ridiculous novel.
Feeling annoyed, she clicked into the group chat.
[Xu Ye: Junior Huo, does looking at someone’s profile notify them?]
[Liu Shuo: Did you get caught snooping on someone’s profile? I forgot to mention that the feature shares the same notification sound as private chats, and it’s never been changed. So when you view someone’s profile, the sound on their end is, uh, quite loud. It’s something like ‘[User] is viewing your profile~’ repeatedly, as long as you stay on their profile.]
[Huo Shuyan: That’s right. Do you want me to change it for you.]
Xu Ye’s face froze, her focus glued to words like “quite loud” and “repeatedly.”
If Liu Shuo described it that way, the sound wasn’t just “quite loud”—it probably blasted straight through David’s feline brain, like a megaphone yelling, “Xiao Bai is viewing your profile~ Xiao Bai is viewing your profile~” right into its ears.
For the first time, Xu Ye experienced the profound embarrassment of socially dying in front of a cat.
Torn between “not wanting to bother Junior Huo” and “still wanting to snoop,” she ultimately chose the latter.
[Xu Ye: Um… would it be convenient to modify it?]
[Xu Ye: (Hopeful.jpg)]
[Huo Shuyan: Sure, I’ll do it once I get back to the dorm.]
[Xu Ye: No rush, no rush.]
Xu Ye tiptoed out of David’s private chat, then exited its profile.
Even back on the forum’s homepage, her heart was still pounding. The recent experience gave her the feeling of barely surviving a close call.
Huo Shuyan’s forum was well-designed, but certain features could only be described as “artificially unintelligent.”
Take the profile notification system, for instance. Xu Ye couldn’t fathom its purpose.
Thinking of this, she typed in the group chat:
[Xu Ye: I think this feature is not very user-friendly. What if it’s late at night and someone is sleeping? Wouldn’t it wake them up if someone views their profile?]
[Liu Shuo: Good question. You’re the first person on the forum to raise this issue. As far as I can recall, no cat or dog has ever exhibited the level of curiosity you do (no offense).]
[Xu Ye: … ]
[Xu Ye: Now that I think about it, when Snowball made a post, users must have viewed my profile. Why didn’t I receive any notifications?]
[Liu Shuo: Your phone doesn’t have the voice package. It’s like how private chats with other users don’t trigger audio notifications either.]
Although Liu Shuo’s response subtly mocked her, Huo Shuyan thought her suggestion was quite reasonable. What started as “making an exception for Xu Ye” became a full-on “modification of the profile notification sound.” The project expanded, and Huo Shuyan said it would be done later in the afternoon.
Huo Shuyan was busy with school matters, while Liu Shuo sifted through applications for the vacant photo moderator role. Meanwhile, Xu Ye lounged at her desk, scrolling through posts from cat and dog users.
Since the photo moderator position was temporarily empty, Huo Shuyan granted Xu Ye the authority to delete posts. However, despite scrolling through posts all morning, she hadn’t needed to fulfill her moderator duties.
Managing cats and dogs was far easier than managing humans. Members of the Cat-Dog Alliance adhered strictly to pinned rules, and their photo-sharing remained simple and wholesome. She hadn’t encountered a single rule-breaking post.
The only near-miss came from a kitten that mistakenly included its owner’s bed in the background of its photo. Before Xu Ye could intervene, the kitten had already deleted the post itself.
After catching up on posts from the early morning, she refreshed the page to see the latest updates.
At the top of the homepage was a familiar face: the little tabby cat.
Its limbs were still stubby, and it had stretched its front paws as far as possible to take a selfie. Despite its efforts, most of the image was dominated by its large face.
In the background was a girl in a red puff-sleeve dress, carefully holding the kitten. Only her chin and the pet shop equipment behind her were visible.
[Finally registered on the forum! Little meow here—still a kitty that someone wants to take home~]
[2F: Little meow here, just dropping by to farm some experience~]
[3F: Looks like your little sis is a delicate girl. Best wishes~]
The user’s ID was “Red Mood,” which Xu Ye guessed was related to the girl’s clothing.
Just as she was about to scroll past, something struck her, and she quickly searched: “What colors can cats see?”
[Search result: According to scientists, cats can likely see green, blue, yellow, and purple. High-saturation colors like red might appear gray or black to them.]
Could the tabby cat really see red?
Xu Ye recalled that dogs could see more colors than cats but still didn’t have a spectrum as rich as humans.
Since joining the forum, she had noticed many posts referencing colors, like yellow lace or red-and-green floral patterns. Yet, accustomed to human perspectives, she hadn’t given it much thought.
Even when gaming with David, it could clearly inform her, “There’s someone on the red side.”
Curious, she opened the group chat.
[Xu Ye: I thought cats and dogs had limited color vision. How can forum users see as many colors as humans?]
[Liu Shuo: Here she goes again—our curious baby is back.]
[Huo Shuyan: After registering as forum users, they gain the ability to perceive a full spectrum of colors like humans.]
[Liu Shuo: Exactly~ That’s why they love the forum so much. As the saying goes, ‘If I hadn’t seen the light, I could have endured the darkness.’]
[Xu Ye: …Intellectuals.]
At the top of the Dog forums was a post from a village dog, echoing the tabby cat’s joy about finding a new home.
The dog had a great sense of composition: its selfie featured half its face, the long hair of the woman in the background, and the tabby cat nestled in the arms of the girl in red. The clean framing emphasized both the subject and supporting details.
Xu Ye racked her brain for the perfect word to describe the dog’s selfie: “aesthetic vibe.”
She saved the dog’s photo, thinking it might be a future photography prodigy. Young and talented, this dog clearly had a bright future ahead.
[Sister is taking me home~]
[2F: Drink up before you go; beyond the western gates, no friends remain. Indeed, friends are but fleeting companions. Today’s farewell—who knows when we’ll meet again?]
[3F: Stop being dramatic. I’ve seen that woman—she’s your neighbor.]
[4F: Oh, never mind then. Safe travels, OP.]
The forum’s cultural dogs were growing in number, no doubt thanks to the popularity of the “Chinese Poetry Treasury” app Huo Shuyan had introduced. Perhaps they could even host a “Forum Poetry Contest” someday.
That Friday afternoon was exceptionally relaxed. Xu Ye idly clicked her keyboard and glanced at posts until the end of her workday.
Luck seemed to be on her side—she quickly got a ride after calling a car. Looking at the license plate on her phone, she teared up with joy. Finally, she wouldn’t have to endure the chaos of being jostled around like scrambled eggs on the bus.
Just as she opened the car door, Liu Hao swaggered by with a lunchbox, feigning nonchalance.
“Still single, Xu? You can’t imagine the joy of having someone make you a heartfelt lunchbox.”
Xu Ye gave him a pitying glance. He couldn’t imagine the joy of having animals as online friends.
She stretched out her happy hand to close the car door but had to try twice before it latched. The driver gave her a sympathetic look.
Thanks to Huo Shuyan’s stealthy implementation of anonymous browsing across the forum, Xu Ye praised his efficiency and happily returned to David’s profile for another round of snooping.
This time, she read every post thoroughly, marveling at David’s firm resolve when it came to gaming.
For instance, in David’s first post recruiting teammates, a user questioned the game’s appeal and received David’s earnest reply:
[2F: What’s so fun about games? Let me ask you this: Your game is running, but your owner just bought the latest cat tower—what do you choose?]
[3F: Pick the tiger! Start by stealing red, revive, steal blue—shock everyone with your first punch!]
Xu Ye shook her head in amazement.
David—you never fail to impress.
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