[ Chapter 16 ]

Class: Art 202

Teacher: Ms. Feng Liyue – gentle, a little scatterbrained, and emotionally attached to her cat, Mr. Whiskers.

Lan Zhan POV

The smell of paint and turpentine hit my senses as I slid into my seat. Sunlight glinted off wet brush strokes and canvas edges. I opened my notebook, intending to take notes on perspective and shading.

Then: a fleeting, sharp thought — Ms. Feng’s cat, Mr. Whiskers, wasn’t well today.

Before I could stop myself, my words slipped out:

"I hope your cat’s okay!"

The pen in her hand froze mid-air. She stared at me, eyes wide. “…How did you know?”

I blinked. Heart racing. This was not part of the plan. My usual calm did not feel so usual.

“Uh… I… um…” I opened my mouth, searching for a plausible excuse.

She leaned closer, expecting an answer. The class turned suspiciously toward the drama unfolding at the front.

I pointed vaguely at the sunlight streaming through the window. “The light… made me… sense… vibes?”

Her expression shifted from shock to confusion. “Vibes?”

“Yes. Vibes,” I said firmly. “Cat vibes. Very… intense.”

A few students snickered. One whispered to another, “Is he… psychic? Or just… crazy?”

Ms. Feng blinked, clearly trying to process the logic behind my statement. I quietly sank into my seat, hoping no one else would ask further questions.

From the Back of the Room – Mo Longyan POV

I had just walked in to deliver sketchbook assignments to Ms. Feng when I noticed Lan Zhan blurting something out. I paused mid-step, eyebrows raised.

The teacher looked like she’d just seen a ghost—or a very polite demon. Lan Zhan, of course, remained perfectly calm. Slightly smug, almost. As if this were a normal Monday.

I couldn’t help but smile. The chaos of the classroom swirled around him, but he moved through it like a ship cutting silently through stormy waters.

Then a small, fluffy, orange tail flicked across the floor—Mr. Whiskers had chosen this moment to leap onto the teacher’s desk. He sniffed the note stack suspiciously.

Lan Zhan’s eyes flicked to the cat. He sighed, almost conversationally: “Yes… I do hope it’s okay.”

The teacher froze again. The class snickered. Mr. Whiskers meowed, unimpressed.

Somehow, absurdly, Lan Zhan had managed to blend psychic warning, casual concern, and mild intimidation into one perfect, confusing package.

Lan Zhan POV (Back Inside)

I returned to sketching quietly, pretending that nothing had happened.

But somewhere, in the background of my mind, I heard the whispers:

“Did he… read her thoughts?”

“Or is he talking to the cat?”

“I think the cat is in on it!”

And I had to suppress a faint, triumphant smile.

[Author's Note]

Lan Zhan is prepared. Calm. Mysteriously empathetic. And apparently… terrifyingly accurate when it came to feline health.😂🤣😂😅😏