Chapter 71: The Breakthrough

"Is it right in here?" After bringing Zhang Congwen to a corner in the living room, Teacher Piao pointed at the litter box in the corner and asked.

The litter box had originally served its intended purpose, but now it had become the nest of Teacher Piao's cat. The cat, named Jiao Jiao, was an orange tabby with a hint of tiger stripes. When Zhang Congwen bent down to look at Jiao Jiao hiding in the box, the cat’s round eyes watched his every move.

Although Jiao Jiao seemed frightened, she made no rash movements and was generally quiet. Besides the litter box, the house was filled with cardboard boxes for the cat to hide in, which gave the room a cluttered feel. There were also several cat toys scattered about.

Zhang Congwen picked up a teaser wand and tried to lure Jiao Jiao out from the entrance of the litter box. No matter how he tried, the cat refused to leave her safe haven.

“Bao Piao…” Zhang Congwen nearly called her the wrong name, quickly corrected himself, and said, “Teacher Bao, does she not like the teaser wand?”

Though he caught himself in time, Teacher Piao noticed his slip but didn’t mind. She explained, “Jiao Jiao rarely leaves her nest during the day and never plays with the wand. She only comes out at night, wandering the room and playing a bit. But at the slightest sound, she’ll dive back into her nest.”

Zhang Congwen felt at a loss.

If the cat wouldn’t come out, there was no way to observe her behavior and diagnose any issues. He couldn’t simply wait until nightfall. Even then, according to Teacher Piao, any disturbance would send her back to her hiding spot. With himself present, Jiao Jiao was unlikely to leave her nest, even at night.

A cat can survive three to seven days without food or water, but Zhang Congwen couldn’t possibly wait here for that long.

With no other options, Zhang Congwen decided to start with Teacher Piao herself.

A timid cat like this rarely interacts with people. Seeing how settled she was in the litter box, it was clear that the confined space provided her ample security. In such an environment, stress reactions would be unlikely.

Teacher Piao explained, “Our fridge broke, so we ordered a new one online. The day the installer came, Jiao Jiao happened to be out. Seeing the installer arrive, she panicked and tried to escape through the window instead of running to her nest. But our windows were sealed that day…”

Zhang Congwen glanced at the window. Teacher Piao lived on the sixth floor—if the cat had jumped out, regardless of the outcome, they’d never see her again.

His gaze quickly shifted to the refrigerator.

The fridge was not large, about one and a half meters tall, but it was the highest thing in the house. Beside it stood a lower cabinet, perfect for a cat to climb. Jiao Jiao must love perching on top of the fridge.

Zhang Congwen moved closer to examine it.

Sure enough, he found plenty of cat fur atop the fridge.

Yet, this alone wasn’t enough to give him a breakthrough with training the cat.

As he racked his brain, he suddenly noticed a black mark along the wall-facing side of the fridge. The white wall bore a patterned streak—at first glance it resembled tiny scales, but upon closer inspection, it looked more like raised, wavy ridges.

Zhang Congwen found it odd. The pattern clashed with the spotless wall, appearing from afar like a stain.

“Why is there a pattern here?” he asked, perplexed.

Teacher Piao was momentarily confused. She stepped closer, then burst out laughing. “That’s not a pattern, it’s just a dirty patch.”

Zhang Congwen felt embarrassed. He touched the mark—its texture was indeed uneven. Curious, he scraped at it and a chunk came off, like black mud.

“Uh…this…”

His embarrassment deepened, but a realization dawned on him. He quickly asked, “Does Jiao Jiao often rub herself here?”

Teacher Piao nodded.

“When, exactly?” Zhang Congwen pressed.

“In the evenings, she’s always rubbing here, rolling around like a grub,” Teacher Piao replied.

Zhang Congwen’s eyes lit up. Teacher Piao’s description was spot-on—Jiao Jiao loved rolling atop the fridge.

If she played and rolled here, it meant she felt safe, completely at ease. This was her most relaxed state.

“What is it?” Teacher Piao asked, unsure why Zhang Congwen was so interested in the stain.

“I think I know how to train her,” Zhang Congwen said quickly. Then he asked, “Do you pet her often?”

Teacher Piao shook her head. “She doesn’t like to be touched. Even when I approach, she often runs away.”

“Does she run when she’s on the fridge?” Zhang Congwen continued.

“No, she’s very well-behaved up there,” Teacher Piao confirmed.

“That’s it.” Zhang Congwen explained, “Animals are most likely to build trust during their childhood, but I heard from Xie Caizhe that you couldn’t give Jiao Jiao proper care when she was young, so she never built trust with you. That’s why she can’t settle down here. What you need is more interaction and companionship.”

Teacher Piao’s eyes dimmed at his words. She understood the principle and had always wanted to try, but Jiao Jiao’s issues made it nearly impossible. More interaction sounded simple, but wasn’t easy to achieve. Zhang Congwen’s words, to her, were no different from saying nothing.

Zhang Congwen patted the fridge. “You can use this.”

Teacher Piao looked at him, puzzled.

Zhang Congwen continued, “She’s most comfortable on the fridge, meaning she’s most receptive then. So when she’s up there, you can gently pet her or engage in simple interactions to establish initial trust. Once that’s built, you can try interacting on lower surfaces, like the cabinet next to the fridge. Ultimately, you’ll gradually guide her to build positive interaction with you on the ground.”