Chapter 9

Gilded Dance Shoes 1, The Cat's Dance Steps

Another morning dawned, and Mo Fei opened his eyes to the absence of glaring sunlight, his mind registering—it must be overcast. He threw off the covers and walked to the balcony door. Only upon opening it did he see the light rain outside. Mo Fei hurried out to check if the rain shield over the piano was fully extended, only to find it... half open.

Mo Fei shook his head. Since his balcony connected with Angler's outside platform, he hurried over and pulled open the rain shield. He carefully inspected the area and, relieved to find the piano only slightly wet, picked up a dry cloth from the wall and began to wipe it gently.

After drying the piano, Mo Fei turned and saw that the lights in Angler's room were off. Approaching the floor-to-ceiling window, he peered inside and saw Angler still asleep.

Mo Fei stroked his chin. Angler, dressed in black pajamas, lay on his side in bed, his hand resting beside the pillow. He appeared calm and elegant, as if he had just gone to bed, with not a hair out of place. Admiringly running a hand through his own tousled hair, Mo Fei knew Angler had gone to bed around nine the previous night. How could someone sleep so still without turning over?

Glancing at the clock on the wall, it was nearly eight o'clock. Angler usually woke up at seven-thirty and would start his day by playing the piano. Why was he late today? Could it be because of the rain?

Mofei took a closer look and noticed Angler's cheeks were slightly red. Was it a mistake, or...? He pulled open the glass door, unsurprised to find Angler usually forgot to lock it. Mofei, removing his wet slippers, ran inside barefoot, "Angler?"

Angler was still asleep, murmuring a drowsy "Hmm" in response.

Mofei touched his forehead... He had a fever!

"Caught a cold?" Mofei scratched his head, puzzled, "He was fine last night, how did he get a fever overnight?"

Still half-asleep, Angler murmured another "Hmm."

Mofei grew anxious, sitting at the bedside. He wrapped Angler in the blanket, intending to carry him to the hospital, when the phone rang...

Mofei answered the call, "Hello?"

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a voice with a hint of amusement, "Oh? A new assistant?"

Mo Fei was momentarily stunned, then asked, "Are you a friend of Angler's? He can't answer the phone right now."

"Oh..." The person on the other end of the line chuckled, "Is he down with a fever again?"

Mo Fei was about to hang up, but he paused upon hearing the caller's words and asked, "Who are you?"

"Well, I'm his family doctor. My name is..." Before finishing, Mo Fei interjected, "That's great, please come over!" and then with a 'click', he hung up the phone.

Just after ending the call, Mo Fei saw Angler slightly open his eyes and, somewhat inexplicably, smile at him.

Mo Fei reached out to touch his forehead, exclaiming, "Hey! You haven't become delirious from the fever, have you?"

Angler blinked and glanced at Mo Fei, whispering a single word, "Hungry."

Mo Fei felt somewhat relieved; it's worrisome when a feverish person loses their appetite, but knowing hunger is a sign it's not too serious.

"Hold on a moment." Mo Fei dashed downstairs, unable to find any ice packs or emergency medical supplies, so he took a box of ice cream from the fridge, poured it into a Ziploc bag, tied it up after wrapping it in several layers, and ran upstairs to place it on Angler's forehead. He covered him with a blanket, assuring him to rest easy, and then ran back downstairs, slipping into slippers and entering the kitchen. Fortunately, he had bought a lot of ginger during his last grocery trip. Mo Fei diced the ginger and cooked it with rice to make porridge. He used to drink this whenever he had a cold or headache; sweating it out cured everything. However, Angler seemed to have a weaker immune system, so he wondered if it would help.

Afterwards, Mo Fei alternated between checking on Angler upstairs and stirring the porridge downstairs with a spoon.

About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Mo Fei ran to answer the door and saw a young man in a black suit standing there, holding a medical kit. Mo Fei opened the door to let him in, saying, "Angler is upstairs."

The young man brushed the water off his coat, slowly raised his eyes to look at Mo Fei, and stroked his chin, murmuring, "Hmm..."

Mo Fei, growing impatient with the doctor's excessive use of onomatopoeia, grabbed a dry handkerchief to wipe his suit, and pushed him towards the stairs, urging, "Hurry up, his fever is quite severe."

The doctor, reluctantly pushed by Mo Fei, ascended the stairs, saying, "Ah, didn't Angler tell you? He always feels unwell when it rains, and it gets worse with a fever. Just a call to me usually does the trick."

"Is his constitution that weak?" Mo Fei ushered the doctor into the room, then heard what seemed like the porridge boiling in the kitchen, and quickly dashed downstairs to lift the lid off the pot.

The doctor, standing at the doorway watching Mo Fei's frantic actions, shook his head and remarked, "Hmm, quite an energetic assistant." Then, he turned and entered the room.

Angler was almost awake but still looked sluggish, with a makeshift ice pack on his head, leaning dazedly against the pillow.

"Angler." The doctor approached Angler, set down his medical kit, took out a thermometer, and instructed, "Open your mouth."

Angler slightly opened his mouth, and the doctor placed the thermometer inside, then lifted the ice pack from his forehead to check it, and put it back, chuckling, "Heh, this assistant is not bad, significantly reduces your chances of accidental death."

Angler, lacking strength, just rolled his eyes at him.

Leaning in, the doctor whispered teasingly, "Hey, he’s quite handsome and young too. How much did you pay for him?"

Angler ignored him, closing his eyes to rest. The doctor settled in a chair nearby, crossed his long legs, and offered, "Hey, Angler, how about we remove your tonsils? It would spare you the frequent fevers and sore throats. I can do the surgery, I’d be happy to take them out for you."

Angler continued to ignore him, keeping his eyes closed to recuperate.

After a short while, Mo Fei adjusted the porridge to simmer on low heat, then rushed back upstairs. He saw the doctor removing the thermometer from Angler's mouth, shook it, and noted, "Hmm? Not too serious, just 38.5 degrees Celsius."

Mo Fei raised an eyebrow, "38.5 degrees isn't serious?"

"He once had a fever of 41 degrees," the doctor replied, blinking at Mo Fei, "Hmm..."

Mo Fei, not waiting for him to finish, asked, "So, how do we bring the fever down? Pills or a fever-reducing injection?"

"Uh, either works," the doctor said, taking out medicine and a syringe from his medical kit.

Mo Fei leaned in, took the fever medicine and thermometer, and said, "Here's what we'll do. You give him an injection today, then leave the medicine and thermometer. If his fever stays below 39 degrees, I'll give him the medicine. If it goes above 39, I'll call you to come over for an injection or an IV. Frequent injections aren't good."

"Oh..." The doctor seemed stunned, then nodded. Mo Fei looked over the medicine's instructions, then looked up at the doctor, "Well? Give the injection!"

"Uh..." The doctor prepared the syringe.

Angler chuckled, giving the doctor a mischievous look.

The doctor reluctantly had Angler extend his arm for the injection. Mo Fei, having roughly read the medicine's instructions, took the medicine, alcohol, and thermometer from the doctor's kit and placed them on the bedside table, then asked the doctor, "How do you charge for consultations? Per visit or some other way?"

"Uh... It's a monthly charge," the doctor finally said a complete sentence, "It’s billed to my account each month."

"Oh," Mo Fei nodded, appearing ready to see the doctor out.

The doctor finally laughed, settling himself on the sofa with a slap to his thigh, and said to Angler, "Angler, where did you find this kid? He's quite a character!"

Mo Fei frowned, thinking that this time he didn't use an onomatopoeia.

“My name is Xia Qi.” The doctor smiled and asked Mo Fei, “Hey, what’s your name, assistant?”

Mo Fei was a bit puzzled, wondering why someone would name themselves after chess. He replied, “Mo Fei.” While speaking, Mo Fei took a closer look at Xia Qi before him. He seemed about the same age as Ao Si, around twenty-five or twenty-six, and his appearance... well, he truly fit the image of a doctor. Not too tall, neither thin nor fat, with distinct facial features, he was quite handsome. His smile lent him a somewhat unserious look... From Mo Fei's years of experience in dealing with people, he surmised that Xia Qi was a slick one, but such people are usually easier to get along with than they appear. Also, Mo Fei felt that Xia Qi looked familiar.

“Xia Fan is his younger brother,” An Ge'er interjected lazily, indicating that the fever-reducing injection was working, “A charlatan brother and a quack doctor.”

Mo Fei wore an 'aha, I see' expression, to which Xia Qi rolled his eyes in resignation, shrugging his shoulders, “Well, to be precise, Xia Fan is a fortune-teller, and I am a private doctor.”

An Ge'er turned to Mo Fei and said, “I’m hungry.”

“Oh, the porridge should be ready,” Mo Fei replied and ran downstairs to serve the porridge.

“Hey, he’s really capable, isn’t he, An An?” Xia Qi leaned closer to An Ge'er, chuckling softly.

An Ge'er removed the makeshift ice pack from his head and turned to look at him, “Leave after the check-up, don’t disturb my meal.”

Xia Qi leaned back on the sofa, propped up his legs, and shrugged, “Hey, don’t be so heartless. I came here early in the morning without even having breakfast. How about treating me to some porridge made by your handsome assistant? I love porridge cooked by men, especially good men.”

An Ge'er glanced at him and said indifferently, “Pervert.”

Just then, the sound of a wind chime came from downstairs, signaling someone at the door.

“Ao Si?” Mo Fei, just coming out of the kitchen with a tray in hand, which held porridge and side dishes, was surprised to see the unexpected arrival of Ao Si.

Ao Si raised an eyebrow, glancing at the porridge and dishes in Mo Fei's tray, and said, “Is there more? I haven’t had breakfast either.”

Mo Fei asked, “Are you looking for An Ge'er? He’s sick.”

Ao Si sighed softly and turned to go upstairs, telling Mo Fei, “I want a large bowl, preferably with fried eggs and dough sticks.”

Mo Fei pretended not to hear, carrying the tray as he followed him upstairs.

After entering An Ge'er's room and seeing Xia Qi there, Ao Si remarked, “You’re here too?”

“Yo, Ao Si!” Xia Qi greeted with a smile, “Long time no see.”

Ao Si nodded at him, then carefully took out the documents he had protected from the rain in his coat.

Mo Fei set a bed table over An Ge'er, placing the tray on it and handing him chopsticks and a spoon to eat the porridge.

Xia Qi and Ao Si, seeing An Ge'er eating porridge, turned to look at Mo Fei with expressions that seemed to say – we want some too!

Mo Fei glanced at them with a hint of disdain, then headed downstairs. Soon after, the sound of a microwave 'ding' echoed from the kitchen. Mo Fei returned with three sandwiches and milk, handing two to them and taking one for himself. He sat on the sofa by the door, eating while reading the newspaper. Knowing that Ao Si’s arrival likely meant a new case, he quietly listened to the conversation.

“What’s the matter this time?” An Ge'er, sipping his porridge, asked Ao Si, who was eagerly munching on a sandwich.

“There’s been a strange case recently,” Ao Si pondered, setting down his sandwich, and asked An Ge'er, “An Ge'er, have you ever seen a cat dance?”

“Cough cough…” Mo Fei and Xia Qi choked on the milk and sandwich they were eating.

An Ge'er, still calmly eating his porridge, looked up at Ao Si with mild curiosity, “A dancing cat?”