Heavy snow was falling in B City during the dead of winter.

“Yo, boss? Where’d you run off to in this blizzard?”

Ethan Black's Bluetooth headset crackled with the soft, sheepish voice of his assistant.

Shivering, he rubbed his arms and replied flatly, “Cat's sick. Just got back from the vet.”

“Ohhh.” The sheepy voice came back, chipper as ever. “I brought you some of my aunt’s homemade meat pies. Seriously delicious. When you gonna be back? Damn, it's freezing in here—I’m shivering in the car.”

Ethan glanced at the empty road ahead, already deep into the suburban villa zone. “Should be there by eight-thirty.”

Meanwhile, the Ragdoll cat curled on the passenger seat yawned and stretched, then sat up all posh and alert, staring out the window like it saw something.

Catching its expression from the corner of his eye, Ethan almost did a double take—was that a cat... looking serious?

Clearly too much overtime. Had to be hallucinating.

“Meow!”

Out of nowhere, the usually quiet cat let out a sharp cry, its body stiffening, back arched slightly.

“What now? Still feeling sick?” Ethan muttered, frowning.

The cat, ignoring him completely, reached out and started clawing at the car seat like it had a personal vendetta.

The harsh scratching had Ethan slamming on the brakes.

He grabbed the cat by the scruff and held it up, only to look down and see the leather seat was already shredded around the edges.

Great. Another few grand down the drain.

His expression darkened as he rolled the window down and threatened, “You keep this up, I’m tossing you out. Don’t test me.”

Cold wind and snowflakes instantly whooshed in.

But the cat didn’t even flinch.

Instead, its paw flashed out—sharp and fast. Ethan yelped in pain and let go, and the Ragdoll darted out the open window like a ninja.

“Hey! Get back here!”

Ignoring the fresh scratch on his hand, Ethan jumped out of the car and took off. Not because he was a saint or anything, but this cat... this weirdly spiritual cat had saved his neck more than once. So he pampered it.

The cat dashed through the snow with ease, finally stopping about twenty meters ahead of the car.

By now, the snow was ankle-deep. And right in front of the cat… was a girl.

A little girl in a white cloak.

The car’s headlights bounced off the snow, and Ethan could just make out the cat placing its paw gently on her head.

In the next moment, two fluffy cat ears atop the girl’s head vanished into her hair like they were never there.

By the time Ethan reached them, the cat had gone back to licking its paw, cool as ever.

And lying right there in the snow, he could see the girl clearly.

He had zero intention of getting involved—wasn’t his style. If something didn’t benefit him or carry value, he didn’t bother.

But his cat... she wasn’t having that.

One look from her—seriously, that “we’re not leaving unless you help her” vibe—and Ethan sighed, picked up the girl, full of irritation.

Went out to treat the cat, ended up taking a person home. Karma must’ve come knocking.

From the rearview mirror, he could see the little girl passed out in the backseat, while the Ragdoll cat was curled up motionless on her chest.

Weird thing was, this cat never tolerated humans. Usually gave people the cold shoulder or scratched if they got too close. But today? Whole different game.

Ethan cranked the heater up, then rang his family doctor to have him ready.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Owen Smith and the doctor were already waiting.