In the days leading up to New Year's Eve, Zhang Yang treated it as a holiday for himself.
Each day, he moved between a few fixed places—either staying at Purple Garden No. 1 or in the presidential suite at the Four Seasons Hotel under his name. From time to time, he brought a girl along and headed out to a farm in the suburbs for camping and cookouts.
Life was peaceful enough, with a rare sense of calm and comfort.
On New Year's Eve, Zhang Yang drove out early to pick up the two elders from the countryside and bring them into the city for the holiday.
In the newly built countryside villa decorated with Chinese charm, Zhang Yang's grandfather was rosy-faced and booming-voiced, dressed in a tai chi outfit as he practiced in the yard.
Zhang Yang's grandmother lay in the sun on a Hainan rosewood recliner.
At her feet, a tabby cat of unknown origin lay lazily on the ground, dozing off now and then.
"Oh, Zhang Yang's here." The moment Zhang Yang's grandmother saw him, she hurriedly sat up with a smile.
The tabby cat was startled as well. It got up from the ground, trotted over, and circled Zhang Yang repeatedly, as if it sensed that the person before it was different.
"What a fat cat." Zhang Yang glanced at it. "Go on, take a couple laps and lose some weight."
The tabby cat shuddered all over and obediently ran off for a walk.
"Huh?" The old man came over in surprise. "That cat listens to no one, yet it listens to you? Looks like it really does recognize people—recognizes its own family."
Zhang Yang smiled.
Forget a cat—even if a lion were standing here, it would obediently let him ride it. Animals naturally had instincts