Futile Devices Scans

“Tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk!” Doctor He sighed. “Look at these teeth! What has it been chewing on? Two teeth broken! Infected! Inflamed!”

The senior had already gone home to pick up her child, leaving Xiao He alone to observe. Xiao He was astonished—Doctor He, wearing only a thin pair of medical gloves, dared to stick his fingers straight into Liu Liu’s mouth! He even pulled out Liu Liu’s small tongue to show him!

“See this? The tongue is cut too—look how swollen it is! And these teeth—tsk tsk tsk! Covered in tartar! Don’t you have special mouthwash for the Pallas’s cats? Why didn’t it drink it? Which one is it? What’s its name?”

“Liu Liu.”

“Oh! I remember—the wild one that came in with a broken leg! No wonder its teeth are in such bad condition.” Doctor He suddenly understood. “It was the one that scratched your face last month, right?”

“Yes.”

Doctor He released his grip and pointed at its little head, scolding, “Always bullying Xiao He! Naughty!”

A palm-sized plastic clip was attached to Liu Liu’s scruff. The entire Pallas’s cat froze as if its pressure points had been sealed, unable to move, only able to glare blankly while being scolded.

“Put it back in the cage first,” Doctor He said. “We’ll perform a small procedure later. It’ll need to stay here overnight for an IV drip. You can get off work now—come see it again tomorrow.”

Xiao He placed Liu Liu back into the cage and removed the clip from its scruff. Instantly regaining mobility, Liu Liu stretched its paw through the bars, clawing relentlessly at Xiao He while letting out low, angry growls.

Xiao He felt a little hurt. He had been working at the Pallas’s cat enclosure for over a month and a half, yet Liu Liu still disliked him.

Moreover, Liu Liu wasn’t aggressive toward the senior, nor (dared to be) toward Doctor He—it only bared its fangs at him. And yet, he liked Liu Liu the most, secretly observing it every day, even reviewing its surveillance footage…

He really was a masochist.

Xiao He went home from work feeling dejected.

…

Two hours later, carrying a backpack stuffed with thick workbooks and a box of freshly boiled chicken breast, he returned to Doctor He’s infirmary.

“Hm? Why are you back?”

“I’ll stay with it during the IV drip. I’m worried it might bite through the tube.”

Xiao He set his backpack on the table, holding the chicken breast, and went into the treatment room to see Liu Liu.

But Liu Liu had no strength left to bite through the IV tube. Doctor He said it had a fever. Two of its bad teeth had been extracted, its tongue bandaged, its mouth stuffed with cotton. It lay listlessly in the cage, one paw tied to the IV line, wearing a cone around its neck—like a fluffy, fragile king wearing a crown.

There was no way to feed it the chicken. Xiao He felt a bit distressed. Putting on a pair of medical gloves, he reached into the cage, carefully touched Liu Liu’s forehead, and gently stroked it.

Liu Liu weakly turned its head away, but did not avoid him. Its bright eyes watched Xiao He. Then it slowly extended a paw—still weakly attempting to show aggression.

Xiao He smiled. He simply placed a finger beneath its soft paw.

Liu Liu weakly curled its claws and scratched him once, then released. After a moment, it curled its claws again and scratched him once more—as if shaking hands.

Xiao He laughed again, finding this mix of sickness and ferocity irresistibly adorable.

…

Over the next few days, Xiao He came to accompany Liu Liu every evening after work. He spread his workbook on the table in the treatment room, diligently solving exercises, occasionally looking up at Liu Liu, smiling at it, and stopping it whenever it tried to chew on the IV tube.

Heaven rewards perseverance. On the fourth night, Liu Liu finally deigned to open its mouth and took a small lick of the boiled chicken breast Xiao He had placed in the cage.

—But only after Xiao He had already left.

Doctor He was tending to a white peacock with diarrhea when he heard the sound of ravenous eating. Turning around, he saw Liu Liu with its face buried in the metal bowl.

“Hah! Scratches people’s faces during the day, eats their food at night!” he laughed.

Liu Liu, of course, didn’t understand. It blocked the chicken with its body, presenting its backside to him.

…

On the morning of the seventh day, Doctor He informed Xiao He that Liu Liu could be discharged. Xiao He happily brought the carrier and returned Liu Liu to the Pallas’s cat enclosure.

Hearing Liu Liu’s call from afar, several half-grown Pallas’s cats, led by Ma Ma, rushed over with their tails raised high to greet it. The moment Liu Liu stepped out of the carrier, it was surrounded, licked, and rubbed against affectionately.

Standing in the middle of the grass, Xiao He distributed the day’s fried fish, leaving one piece as usual.

He tentatively extended his hand toward Liu Liu.

This time, Liu Liu did not snarl. It slowly walked over, sniffed his fingers, its cool nose brushing lightly against his knuckles.

But it still did not eat the fish from his hand. Instead, it circled around his feet, stretched with its rear raised, then cast him a proud glance before darting into the rock cave with its tail held high.

Ma Ma happily ran over and, as always, claimed the unclaimed fish.

…

In the days that followed, Xiao He continued his careful observations. After its teeth were treated, Liu Liu seemed to realize that chewing the metal bars was futile and gave up attacking the ventilation opening.

However, it still wandered around the enclosure daily. Once, it even ambushed the entrance and attempted to escape the moment Xiao He opened the door.

But after getting out, it discovered there was another locked room outside—the very space designed to prevent such escapes.

Xiao He held it under its armpits and rear, carrying the frustrated, failed escapee back into the enclosure.

Fortunately, Liu Liu no longer scratched or bit him.

Xiao He asked the senior, “Since it wants to leave so much, can’t it be released back to where it originally lived?”

“Well… about that…” the senior mentioned a place name.

Xiao He fell silent—because that place had already been developed into a new urban district that year.

“Its original ‘home’ no longer exists… Of course, we could release it into a more distant grassland, but wild Pallas’s cats are becoming increasingly rare, and survival is harder than before. It’s safer here, and it won’t lack food or shelter,” the senior said.

Holding a broom, Xiao He looked up at Liu Liu.

Liu Liu had once again climbed to the highest tree in the enclosure, gripping the transparent ceiling glass with its front paws, watching the birds outside as they hopped and flew.

Xiao He felt that it did not want safety, nor a life free from hunger.

…

The peaceful days did not last long.

One morning, Xiao He opened the enclosure gate and counted the Pallas’s cats—but Liu Liu was nowhere to be found.

At last, he discovered Liu Liu lying quietly and alone by the ventilation opening, its mouth full of residue. Beside it was a small puddle of partially digested feed it had vomited.

Xiao He crouched down and gently poked it. It weakly opened its eyes and let out a hoarse “meow.”

A few minutes later, Xiao He ran all the way to Doctor He’s infirmary, out of breath, carrying the cat carrier. Without even closing the door, he opened the cage and reached in to pick Liu Liu up.

“Doctor He, it seems like it ate something bad!”

In the next instant, a blur of fur slammed hard against his hand, startling him into a cry.

Liu Liu showed no sign of weakness at all. Like an arrow, it shot onto the operating table, kicked off instruments with a loud clatter, then leapt again—

In the blink of an eye, it vanished through the half-open door.

Doctor He rushed to the doorway after it, but didn’t catch even a single strand of fur.

“Ah! That troublesome little thing!”

Xiao He stood there dumbly beside the carrier—

completely stunned.

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