Chapter 1: The Wind Blows the Eggshell

Logan Bennett jumped onto a branch of a phoenix tree, squinted at the sunlight filtering through the leaves, used his furry paw to scratch his ear, found a comfortable position to lie down, and yawned.

It was a September afternoon, the sunlight was just right, perfect for a nap.

Logan Bennett was a cat, but he used to be a real human. He didn’t understand how it happened—he just woke up like this one day.

A strange city, a strange house, strange people, an even more despairing new identity, an enlarged world, and a time rewind—to the year 2003.

Logan Bennett didn’t like cats before, in fact, he could even be considered to dislike them. He always thought that cats as a species were on the same level as lunatics, and now, he himself had become such an animal.

Retribution?

Logan Bennett admitted his conduct wasn’t great—he’d bullied the weak, set a few small fires, idled about with no proper job, once lived in extravagant debauchery—but at least he’d never killed anyone. Judging by the moral standards he’d kept shoved in the corner since he could remember, there were plenty of people worse than him, so why was he the one to get retribution?

Confused? Helpless? Angry? Despairing?

In the face of such clear reality, nothing seemed to help. For his once-indulgent life, Logan Bennett could only comfort himself with the saying, “The wind blows the eggshell, wealth gone, peace remains.”

Three months had passed—a whole quarter of a year. The wheel of nature had turned ninety degrees, and the turbulence Logan Bennett felt when he first arrived had settled, shifting from discomfort to gradual familiarity.

Sometimes, having no great ambitions and just muddling along is a rare state of mind.

This was Chuhua University, a century-old prestigious school ranked at the top among universities in central China. The benefit of a century-old school was that it was big enough, with excellent greenery.

Occasionally, students would walk along the road under the trees. The atmosphere here was tranquil yet full of vitality.

In this pleasant atmosphere, Logan Bennett had just dozed off when he was woken by a burst of barking. He twitched his ears—without looking, Logan Bennett knew exactly which two were making a fuss again.

About a hundred meters away from Logan Bennett, a brown Chihuahua was barking at a camphor tree, and on a branch of that tree stood a black-and-white cat, who was flicking its tail and meowing down at the dog.

On the surface, this was a common scene—pet owners often encountered this. But what was different this time was that both the dog and the cat were barking “woof woof.”

This cat was named “Sheriff,” now eight months old, a bit smaller than Logan Bennett, and named so because its fur resembled that of the Black Cat Detective from the cartoon. At the same time, this cat was one of Logan Bennett’s troublemaking friends since he became a cat.

This cat had two traits: one, it was combative and fought like its life depended on it; two, it could imitate dog barks, and was dog-like in every way.

The first time Logan Bennett met “Sheriff,” the guy was squatting on a one-meter-high ornamental rock, barking at that Chihuahua. When “Sheriff” noticed Logan Bennett watching, it slowly switched from “woof woof” to “meow.”

Actually, at that time, Sheriff’s “dog language” wasn’t very authentic—it sounded a bit off. But as time passed, the “dog language” became more and more genuine. Most people couldn’t tell the difference just by listening.

And when this guy got tired, he’d even stick out his tongue and pant like a dog, so Logan Bennett often suspected that a dog’s soul was living inside this cat.

Not paying any more attention, Logan Bennett yawned and lay down to continue sleeping. He wasn’t worried about “Sheriff” at all—“Sheriff” and that Chihuahua had been fighting since they were little, both were very experienced. If you asked why “Sheriff” always picked on that Chihuahua, it was because that Chihuahua was the smallest among all the pet dogs in the East District family compound. Fish pick the freshest, persimmons pick the softest— even cats know this.

Logan Bennett slept until the bell for the end of the third class in the university teaching area rang. He stretched lazily, slid down from the tall phoenix tree, trotted along the path by the road, and after passing through a peach grove, saw a wall.

This was the affiliated elementary school inside Chuhua University. Many children of the faculty and staff studied here, making it convenient and reassuring for parents to pick up and drop off their kids.

Logan Bennett jumped onto the wall, glanced at the classrooms on the second and sixth floors, then walked along the wall toward the school gate.