002 | (I) Who am I?



002 | (I) Who am I?

The first time I saw the constellation Mao was on an unpleasant summer day.

Needless to say, the sun was blazing, and the wind was scorching hot. When it blew on my body, I was soaked all over. When the cat's paws scratched, it was prickly and itchy.

At 5:30 a.m., the sky was a deep purple.

As summer arrived and the mountains turned green, seven-year-old Xie Qingyan returned to Jincheng with his father after two years of absence.

Jin City lives up to its name, with spring-like weather all year round and flowers blooming in abundance. It is draped in a green coat of garden weeds. At this time of year, willows and locust blossoms fill the city, fluttering in the air. From a distance, one might mistake them for snow.

Xie Qingyan was shaken awake from the car by her father. Someone whispered to her, "We've arrived." Her vision gradually blurred. In this rare blues moment, the sky reflected the blooming bellflowers.

She looked up at her father and said, "Il neige."

She laughed heartily, her voice clear and crisp, saying that it was snowing.

Her father smiled gently, kissed her forehead, and said that this was not snow. He then had her breathe on the car window, and sure enough, there was no frost. Her father then carried Xie Qingyan out of the car and told her with a smile that this was a flower from summer.

In the future, she will be able to see many flowers in Jincheng.

"More than Paris?"

The father pondered for a moment: "Hmm... the flowers are different in every place, we have to see what Yan likes."

Xie Qingyan took her mother's surname. Her father was of mixed Chinese and French descent and his Chinese name was Zhang Fulan. Her parents divorced when she was five years old due to incompatibility. Her mother, Xie Jinyu, was at the peak of her career and devoted herself wholeheartedly to her work, leading her team to ensure that the projects under her charge would not fail.

Her father then took her to France to live temporarily, and two years have passed since then.

Zhang Fulan returned her daughter to Jincheng as promised that year.

The Xie residence was situated halfway up a mountain. It was just dawn, and the faint sound of roosters crowing could be heard. There should have been no one on the road, but a child about her age was standing in front of the villa next door, with his back to everyone, and the sound of him reading aloud drifted over.

Xie Qingyan couldn't understand, and despite the change in language environment, her Chinese was still halting.

Zhang Fulan glanced at the neighbor boy, looking at him with newfound respect. Turning to Xie Qingyan, she earnestly admonished, "That's the son of my best friend, the neighbor's child. He's smart and hardworking. When your father isn't around, you must study like him, otherwise you'll fall behind in your studies back home and make your mother angry."

She knew her mother had a bad temper.

Xie Qingyan's face scrunched up in a bitter expression, her eyebrows furrowed, and she shouted, "No!"

Making such young children read early in the morning is child abuse!

Xie Qingyan was not used to everything back in China. In France, she was used to having everyone obey her every command, so who would dare to ask her to study? But Ms. Xie Jinyu was not as gentle and good-tempered as Zhang Fulan. She was like a persimmon that anyone could squeeze.

This woman, who is known for her decisiveness in the workplace, is also strict and demanding when it comes to teaching her child. She was also punished by being forced to get up early to memorize phrases. She stood next to the child next door, separated by rows of carved railings, staring at each other.

"My name is Xie Qingyan. Who are you?" she asked in slightly accented Mandarin.

He held the book silently, without even raising his head.

Xie Qingyan inherited the best features from her parents: shiny black hair, snow-white skin, and blue eyes. She looked like a beautiful porcelain doll, and everyone who saw her treated her with utmost respect. For the first time, Xie Qingyan, who had always been the center of attention, felt neglected.

She was displeased, her face tense, and she loudly asked again, "Hey, what's your name?"

Startled by her urgent shout, the boy finally looked up. His short, black hair was neatly combed, and his shirt was buttoned up to the top. He had delicate features, red lips, and white teeth, but his face was gloomy and expressionless. His dark eyes were unfathomable, and his sudden stare at her was rather intimidating.

Xie Qingyan pursed her lips, took a step back, put her hands on her hips, and mustered her courage: "Why don't you speak? Are you mute?"

"The constellation is Mao." He enunciated clearly, but his voice was very low, as soft as a mosquito's buzz, and could not be heard at all.

"What Mao?" For her, whose Chinese wasn't very good, his name was really hard to pronounce.

"Caterpillar?"

"Xie Qingyan! Study hard and stop gossiping." Xie Jinyu stood in front of the French windows, answering the phone in one hand and holding a cup of coffee in the other, her gaze sharp.

Xie Qingyan turned around sullenly and stuck out her tongue at him.

I deeply regret talking to him.

She remembered that on the day she returned, Ms. Xie Jinyu's face was clouded with anger as she stared at her, followed by a barrage of scolding.

—All you do all day is play and have fun, looking at others and then at yourself, without learning from others, being quick-witted, eager to learn, and hardworking.

This sentence is like a curse.

For the next ten years, his spirit lingered.

Later, according to Ms. Xie Jinyu, the child was given a name.

"Yan Yan, Su Xingmao got another award certificate. The teacher called me and you were sleeping in class again?"

"Su Xingmao got first place this time. What place did you get?"

“Su Xingmao won a gold medal in the primary school Olympiad, Yan Yan, look at your math score.”

"Su Xingmao's ranking in the high school entrance exam..."

...

"Star of the Rabbit!"

Xie Qingyan wanted to tear the exam paper to shreds.

Her handwriting was terrible, all crooked and messy, like caterpillars crawling on the paper.

The number outlined in red in the upper left corner was particularly bright: 75, out of a possible 150 points, a failing grade. Her mother named her "Yan," probably hoping she would have a clever mind, study hard, and accumulate a lot of knowledge.

Unfortunately, Xie Qingyan was not cut out for studying; looking at pages full of mathematical formulas gave him a splitting headache.

She failed math in the final exam, which infuriated Ms. Xie Jinyu. During the summer vacation, she was kept at home and Su Xingmao was invited to supervise her studies. She was not allowed to go anywhere until she scored above 100 on the test.

The pages filled with formulas made her dizzy. She crumpled the draft paper into strips, but still not satisfied, she tore it apart, making a loud ripping noise.

A man sat quietly in front of the circular French window, holding a book. Outside, the trees cast dappled shadows, sunlight streamed in, and a gentle breeze blew by. In the faint green waves, his face was handsome and refined, as gentle as jade.

In the sweltering summer heat, Jincheng was like a sauna, with temperatures soaring to nearly 40 degrees Celsius. Yet, the white shirt remained impeccably buttoned to the front, the Adam's apple barely visible beneath the collar.

He didn't even raise an eyebrow at her noisy noise, and quietly turned a page of his book.

"What are you pretending for?" Xie Qingyan grew increasingly displeased. She turned her gaze to Su Xingmao's face, a face she found utterly repulsive. In a fit of anger, she threw down her pen.

It's all because of this annoying culprit! If he weren't our neighbor, constantly comparing her to me, her life would be so carefree, comfortable, and vibrant.

I'm extremely annoyed and disgusted.

She slammed the pen down, then it bounced high into the air, splashing ink like raindrops. The ink splattered across his calm, expressionless face, creating clusters of black spots. With a soft "pfft," Xie Qingyan clutched his stomach and burst into laughter.

The constellation Mao sat upright as if in deep meditation, completely still.

He lifted his thin eyelids, his dark eyes gazing at her like a stagnant pool, devoid of any emotion.

Xie Qingyan hated his calm and collected demeanor the most. No matter how strong the wind was, it couldn't stir up a ripple in his eyes. He had fooled countless adults, who praised him for being neither humble nor arrogant, gentle and mild-mannered—unlike the girl from the Xie family, who looked well-behaved but had a very twisted personality. She was like a firecracker, ready to explode at any moment. Who would dare to mess with her?

"Oh, sorry, my hand slipped. Wait a minute, let me wipe it for you."

After saying that, she smiled and took the draft paper he had filled with writing on, the ink still wet, crumpled it into a ball, and pretended to be a good person, offering to wipe it clean for him.

Xie Qingyan vigorously spread the ink dots, her fair skin turning crimson from the rough wood fibers of the draft paper, the black dots transforming into a blotch of ink. Her handsome face was smeared with ink by her fingertips, her deep brow bones and the area below her eyes becoming dark and smudged, making her look like a giant panda. Only then did she clap her hands in satisfaction, tilting her chin up slightly, full of smugness.

“Go tell them that if they can’t teach me anymore, they can leave.” Xie Qingyan pointed at him, imperiously: “Just keep this face.”

"Xie Qingyan." Su Xingmao lowered his eyes and called her name, his handsome face expressionless and calm: "Are you really going to do this?"

“Of course.” She nodded matter-of-factly, her tone arrogant: “Get out of my house right now.”

She hopped and skipped out of the room like a rabbit.

Unaware that the lost phone was stuck on some shady website.

"Xie Qingyan," he called from behind.

She moved with incredible speed, as if on a somersault cloud, leaping and bounding, oblivious to everything around her.

"Xie Qingyan." His lips moved silently, opening and closing, as he murmured her name.

She has always treated him this way all these years.

He was less noticeable than air.

"Xie Qingyan".

His voice remained deep and resonant.

"Xie Qingyan, who am I?"

In the empty classroom, the curtains fluttered in the wind, while loud whistles echoed from the playground, mingling with the excited cheers of the crowd.

I couldn't hear it clearly.

The sweltering heat blurred her vision. Someone bent down and stood in front of her. The tall young man blocked most of the light, leaving only a blurry silhouette, coldly looking down at her.

The voices were distant.

His voice drew closer to my eardrums.

It felt heavy, with a slight sense of oppression.

"Class monitor." She heard her own voice, low and soft, with a hint of resentment.

"Hmm?" It was a flat, indifferent tone, with only a slight upward inflection.

A small hook was used to pull her mouth shut.

“…Master.” Xie Qingyan was unwilling. She raised her chin slightly, and at the end of her field of vision, a familiar face that she had seen thousands of times came into view.

He gazed at her with a clear and distant look.

Shame washed over Xie Qingyan, engulfing her entire body.

"And you?" Su Xingmao asked lazily.

She bit her lip, hesitated for a long time, and finally managed to utter a broken, incoherent sentence: "It is... Master's... kitten."

“Say it completely.”

"I am my master's little cat." She finished speaking with a death-defying resolve, her cheeks flushed and her back covered in cold sweat.

The hair at her temples was also damp.

He gently stroked it with his fingertips.

The next instant, his jaw was suddenly gripped tightly, and knuckles left red marks on his fair cheek: "Are you allowing the kitten to lift its head?"

Su Xingmao leaned down and questioned her, his voice steady and not harsh.

Xie Qingyan's breath hitched slightly, and her gaze quickly fell to the ground, settling on his clean sneakers.

"Good girl." He moved his hand up, stroking her dark hair from her temple, and rubbed her head. As he stood up, his fingers caressed her trembling lips, the soft, warm touch bringing a hint of amusement to his voice: "Remember. Don't let me see you with him again, okay?"

His tone was very gentle, like hot cocoa on an autumn day.

A warm breeze caressed my face, gently caressing my skin.

Xie Qingyan nodded haphazardly, glanced at the clock in the classroom, the minutes were stopped at 28, there were still two minutes before class started, she prayed in her heart that this guy would leave quickly!

"And the answer?" He wouldn't let her go, his fingertips moving downwards, his rough thumb digging slightly into her flesh, holding her chin gently, yet she couldn't break free.

“…I understand.” Her eyelashes were like fallen leaves swirling in the wind, trembling slightly, unable to fall to the bottom.

"Good girl." Su Xingmao patted her head again, his movements gentle and patient.

The sound of footsteps faded into the distance.

The leaves drifted and swayed, finally falling to the ground.

Her eyelashes, unable to bear the weight, drooped weakly, and her body collapsed to the ground, too weak to withstand her clothes. Xie Qingyan closed her eyes as she wished, letting out a long, heavy breath.

Why did she and Su Xingmao end up like this?

Note:

This article is from k8+brat cat literature.

First, what is K8 cat literature? In BDSM, when it comes to verbal teasing, the dom/s (dominant) usually refers to the sub/m (submissive) as a puppy, which is a homonym for canine.

From this, k8 was derived, which is the cat referred to in this article. Therefore, the cat name will be used throughout the entire article. It was written because of this name/playstyle. If you cannot accept this, you can stop here. Thank you.

The above is just a very, very basic introduction. In fact, the correct BDSM relationship is much more rigorous than I have described. D/s and s/m can be said to be two completely different categories of preferences. If you are interested, you can learn about them yourself. For the sake of ease of understanding, I have confused the two (which is not strictly speaking rigorous).

Continue read on readnovelmtl.com


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