CHAPTER 31: CHAPTER 31: A QUICK CALCULATION, VICTORY... PAY UP!

"First, if you want to adopt a cat, you need to seal the windows. But here, if you seal the windows, you’ll have to endure the smell of the litter box. If you don’t, the cat can come and go as it pleases. One day it might hook up with a wild street cat or worse, die outside, and you wouldn’t even know."

"Secondly, this is the top floor..."

Glancing at the old, yellowed air conditioner on the wall, Wyatt Hawthorne asked Serena Sinclair, "Are you planning to keep the air conditioner on 24/7, or are you coming home at night to find a heat-stroked, dehydrated cat?"

Serena went silent.

She hadn’t thought it through.

She only thought that since the orange tabby chose her, she couldn’t just ignore it.

She didn’t consider what conditions were needed to raise a cat.

And, how much time and energy it would require.

She had the time and energy.

She had plenty of love.

But the basic material conditions, she couldn’t provide for now.

Looking up again, she saw the orange tabby repeatedly trying to escape through the window under Wyatt’s arm.

Every time it was pulled back by Wyatt, grabbed by the scruff of its neck, rescuing it from its stubborn fate.

Unrelenting, when it was pulled back yet again, the orange tabby seemed exhausted and lay lethargically on the desk, finally behaving itself.

Not realizing how hot the room was until then, Serena was just about to turn on the air conditioner when...

Wyatt stood up straight, "I better take care of it for now..."

He put the orange tabby back into the carrier box.

Wyatt turned to Serena, "Once you have the means, you can take it back. By then, your work will be going well, your life will be stable, and it’ll have had all its shots. You can be reunited and never separated again. What do you think?"

She looked at Wyatt, who was earnestly considering the orange tabby’s welfare.

Then she looked at the orange tabby rubbing obediently against Wyatt’s hand, without any of its usual boldness.

Serena nodded, "Alright."

They hadn’t been upstairs for more than ten minutes before the two of them and the cat headed back downstairs.

They went to Mr. Warren’s shop for wontons and even fed the orange tabby the two measly shrimp it had in its bowl.

As Wyatt left, carrying the carrier box, he turned back to ask Serena, "Where did you find the movers on your moving day?"

"What?"

Serena was momentarily confused.

Wyatt gestured with his chin, "I’ll have the butler move these things into the car. The butler’s busy and won’t be back until tomorrow."

Even if it was just food, snacks, and a cat tree.

How could they have the young master exert himself?

Especially since it was her cat.

Serena hesitated, "Or, should I go over and move it?"

"That’s not impossible..."

Wyatt reluctantly nodded, "Get in the car."

The Ferrari backed out of the alley and sped toward Hillcrest Villa.

Serena still couldn’t figure out how things unfolded to this point.

Her phone dinged gently.

It was from Una Hutton.

"[By my calculations, I guess, probably, seemingly, maybe... I won?]"

"[Pay up!]"

Serena: ...

She thought about dodging the payment.

Also considered lying to trick her initially.

But remembering how Una was as crafty as a monkey...

She’d send a lying WeChat message, and the next second, Una would dare to video call for proof.

It would be even more embarrassing in front of Wyatt.

Serena sighed and sent a fifty-cent red envelope.

Una accepted it instantly.

She sent over the same smirking emoji packet.

Even the raised eyebrows seemed to be mocking her, and Serena turned off her screen with a snap.

Then she heard Wyatt asking, "Has your injury... healed?"

Serena paused.

It took her a moment to realize he was talking about the scrapes on her feet.

Perhaps she was so used to neglecting herself while raising a child these years.

Or maybe her skin was just tougher and not as delicate.

The doctor prescribed ointment, and she’d been busy, applying it sporadically.

Unexpectedly, it healed quite well over a few days.

She barely felt it unless she walked a lot.

"It’s healed."

Serena responded, "Thank you, Wyatt!"

The car stopped in the underground garage.

Wyatt exited, carrier box in hand, and stepped into the elevator.

Serena made trip after trip, carrying the cat bed, cat tree, cat food, and snacks into the elevator.

Throughout, the young master just stood there, watching, without any intention of lending a hand.

Finally, when Serena brought out the last bag...

Wyatt raised his hand, and the trunk door slowly closed.

The elevator doors closed, and when they opened again, the refreshing lemon aroma of the villa filled the air.

Wyatt stepped out of the elevator and bent down to open the carrier box door.

Meow... ooh!

The orange tabby squeezed out, stretched comfortably.

As if returning to familiar territory, it sashayed out daintily.

Checked out the greenery.

Scratched at the sofa.

The orange tabby trotted off directly to the third-floor media room, as if it knew exactly where to go.

When Serena finished moving things and turned around, she just caught a glimpse of its tail flicking in the air.

It was held high, as if in high spirits.

Serena: ...

"Young master, lunch is ready! Please enjoy your meal!"

The fragrance drifted into her nose as Serena placed the cat bed on the second-floor terrace, moved the cat tree to the third-floor terrace, and put the cat food and canned cat food in the storage room, all according to Wyatt’s instructions.

As she descended to the next floor, she saw the chef walking out of the dining room, reporting to Wyatt.

Wyatt nodded to acknowledge.

The chef turned and left.

With a ding, the elevator doors were closing.

A question formed in Serena’s mind.

Were Wyatt’s household staff so strictly organized that they couldn’t cross roles?

For instance... the chef couldn’t take on the jobs of the movers to help transport those items?

"Everyone sweeps their own snow, without worrying about the frost on others’ tiles."

As if guessing what Serena was pondering, Wyatt spoke, "Getting highly specialized at their own duties is my only requirement of them."

"Oh."

Serena understood.

Wyatt pulled out a dining chair, "Come have some food."

Serena washed her hands and returned to find that, along with six dishes and one soup, two sets of bowls and chopsticks were already laid out on the table.

Come what may.

She was already there.

Serena thanked and quietly began her meal.

The dining Wyatt maintained a quiet demeanor, embodying the refined elegance typical of aristocratic heirs from noble families who don’t talk while eating or sleeping.

She couldn’t help but remember how awkward she felt the first time she entered Adrian Lockwood’s home.

Serena subconsciously straightened her back, holding her chopsticks tightly as she picked up food, making her best effort to avoid clinking against the plates, which would appear impolite.

Then she heard Wyatt ask, "What ideas do you have if you were to design that plot of land in the east of the city?"

Recalling the news she’d seen and heard during those months in the hospital.

She knew Wyatt was referring to the upcoming government bidding conference for that parcel of land.

Serena spoke up, "I would design it into the largest, most technologically advanced science park in all of Aethelgard and Auranos, divided into a youth section and a comprehensive section, or perhaps into east, west, north, and south sections, appealing from age 2 to 80, offering endless enjoyment for everyone."

It had been such a long time since she’d had hands-on experience in her professional field.

Serena spoke eloquently.

Wyatt would occasionally ask a question or add a suggestion.

While chatting and eating... unknowingly, they finished their meal.

As Serena prepared to put down her chopsticks after eating her fill, Wyatt’s phone rang.

"...Alright, I got it, I’m on my way there now!"

Seemingly in a hurry, Wyatt got up and walked toward the door, calling out to Serena, "You stay here for a bit; the driver will bring you home!"

"No..."

As the elevator doors closed with a buzz, Serena realized she hadn’t finished her sentence.

Not knowing when the driver would arrive...

Serena decided to load the dishes into the dishwasher and wipe down the dining table.

With nothing else to do, she meowed her way up the stairs.

The media room.

The terrace.

The gym.

Sitting in the Ferrari driver’s seat, watching Serena curiously look around until she entered the master bedroom and hadn’t come out for a while.

Wyatt turned off the surveillance feed and stared at the steering wheel, lost in thought.

So now, the question remains.

Where should he go?