The third button of Gu Chuan’s shirt hovered at eye level, and that’s when Lin Xia finally realized—he was treating her like an actual cat. His long, elegant fingers held a silver tweezer, drawing pale purple liquid into a syringe. Under the lab’s harsh white lights, his lashes cast delicate shadows beneath his eyes, as if the man who had shackled her to the bedhead last night with a magnetic collar was just a dream.

  “This is a refined inhibitor,” he said coolly, the needle catching the light like a dagger. “It’ll keep you in human form for eight hours.”

  Lin Xia arched her back, her fluffy ragdoll tail sweeping across the lab table. Memories from three days ago flickered through her mind: the violet gas at the underground auction, the Black Spire insignia on Gu Chuan’s cufflinks, and the monocled old man in Tang robes—Dr. Z, the mad scientist behind the illegal gene experiments seven years ago.

  She swiped at the syringe. It shattered with a sharp crack that echoed through the silent lab.

  Gu Chuan grabbed the scruff of her neck with surgical precision. “Do you think the Black Spire’s hunting you for fun?” His fingers traced the birthmark below her collarbone, now glowing an eerie blue. “Every transformation burns through your telomerase. When it hits zero…”

  Suddenly, alarms blared. Red numbers flashed across the screen: [METAMORPHOSIS: 87%].

  Lin Xia’s nose twitched—something sweet. Crushed catnip seeped out from beneath the table.

  “You drugged me?!” she hissed, but it was too late. Her pupils contracted to vertical slits.

  Gu Chuan’s glasses fogged up. “Sorry. I need you calm.” Just before her world went black, she heard his whisper: “I can’t hold onto what your parents left much longer.”

  “Welcome back, Dr. Lin!” chirped the AI in a disturbingly cheerful tone. “You’ve been asleep for 23 hours and 17 minutes. During that time, Mr. Gu brushed your fur three times and hand-fed you tuna—”

  “Shut up, master,” came Gu Chuan’s voice through the door.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Lin Xia opened her eyes to find herself inside a cylindrical stasis pod. Holographic projections looped on the glass: seven years ago, in the middle of a burning lab, a younger Gu Chuan cradled her unconscious body, glass shards ablaze in his back.

  “Liar,” she muttered, slamming a fist against the pod. The chamber rotated with a hiss, revealing a hidden safe. A faded photo fluttered out—a five-year-old Lin Xia riding on Gu Chuan’s shoulders, holding cotton candy.

  “You erased my memory?” she choked out as he stepped into view, wearing a black turtleneck that barely covered the claw marks on his neck.

  “It was for your safety. The Black Spire implanted a tracker in your brain. The only way to override it was—”

  An explosion rocked the lab. Bulletproof glass cracked like a spiderweb.

  “They’re early,” Gu Chuan muttered, tearing open his collar to reveal an electronic port. “Alpha, initiate Magpie Bridge Protocol!”

  Robotic arms grabbed Lin Xia’s wrist, injecting her with nanoneedles. As her consciousness slipped again, he murmured: “Go to No.18 Bund. Find the tailor named Qin.”

  She awoke to the scent of sandalwood in a vintage qipao shop. Tailor Qin puffed on a pipe, eyes squinting.

  “Your parents left you a dress.”

  Inside a rosewood box lay a moonlight-colored qipao, embroidered with a ragdoll cat in double-sided Su embroidery. Lin Xia traced the sapphire eyes—then winced. A microchip embedded in the golden thread had pricked her fingertip.

  A projection shimmered to life. Her mother’s image appeared, heartbreakingly vivid.

  “Xia, if you’re seeing this… it means that boy, Gu Chuan, finally—”

  A blast cut her off. Dr. Z’s mechanical limb punched through the brick wall. Lin Xia dove past a laser beam, the qipao coiling around her like a living thing, dragging her toward a secret door.

  Gu Chuan’s voice came from the jade bracelet on her wrist. “Third tile on the right. The code is your birthday.”

  As the hidden passage sealed shut, she glimpsed Tailor Qin unsheathing a Tang sword from his prosthetic leg.

  “Go! Tell that brat Gu he owes the Lin family nothing now.”

  The tunnel ended in an abandoned subway station. An old biotech ad read: Black Spire Genetics – Est. 20 years ago. Her bracelet grew hot, projecting Gu Chuan’s hazy image.

  “Follow the blue light.”

  Bioluminescent mushrooms outlined a path to a flooded tunnel.

  The qipao wrapped her in a membrane of oxygen. As she swam past sunken train cars, her blood froze—dozens of stasis pods, each holding a clone that looked exactly like her.

  Her bracelet vibrated violently. “Don’t touch the tanks!”

  Too late.

  [GENETIC MATCH: 100%. ACTIVATING AWAKENING PROTOCOL.]

  Every pod opened. The clones blinked their glowing blue cat-eyes.

  “The original is finally here,” one clone said sweetly. “Gu Chuan visits every three months to pick the best ‘version’ of you.”

  Lin Xia stumbled back. Another clone lifted her sleeve to reveal dozens of injection marks.

  “His favorite, E-012, was scrapped yesterday—she didn’t learn to blow on her soy milk before drinking it.”

  The ground trembled. A flood of river water surged through the tunnel. The clones knelt in unison.

  “Welcome home, Father.”

  Lin Xia turned. Gu Chuan stood behind the water curtain, shirt ripped open. A faint blue core pulsed where his heart should be.

  “Surprised?” he said gently, brushing her neck. “Since the explosion seven years ago… Gu Chuan, the human, no longer exists.”

  The water roared. She plunged into the abyss, the qipao cocooning her into a glowing chrysalis. In the final moments before blackout, she glimpsed two figures in the pods—her parents—slowly opening their eyes.