Give Up, Mr. Lawyer! This is Not Your Child-Chapter 151: The Orange Cat Doesn’t Eat Wontons

Chapter 151: Chapter 151: The Orange Cat Doesn’t Eat Wontons

In the apartment at 77, 57th Street, Justin Holden sat at a makeshift desk, thick legal documents spread open in front of him.

Intense work was his habitual way of numbing himself.

Suddenly, a faint aroma of food drifted in from outside the window.

A fragrance of dumplings mixed with meat filling and a familiar broth.

Justin’s fingers paused on the keyboard.

The scent was very familiar, and he frowned slightly.

A few years ago, Claire Caldwell once brought him some homemade wontons, saying it was her aunt’s specialty.

The taste at that time seemed to be this kind of savory delight.

This thought flashed by, only to be suppressed immediately.

He shook his head, thinking he was probably too hungry and starting to have unrealistic associations.

New York is so big, how could it be such a coincidence?

But the emptiness in his stomach was real.

He put down the documents and got up to go into the kitchen.

There were frozen foods in the refrigerator, and he found a pack of frozen wontons.

Boiling water, the wontons were put in; as they rolled in the boiling water, his thoughts drifted.

The wontons were quickly cooked, spooned into a bowl, clear broth with a few withered green onions as garnish.

He took a sip, and his brows immediately furrowed even tighter.

The taste was completely wrong, thick skin with little filling, the broth bland and tasteless, worlds apart from that savory warmth in his memory and the enticing aroma he had smelled earlier.

He set down the spoon, pushed the bowl of frozen wontons to the center of the table, appetite gone.

Sitting back at the desk, trying to focus, but the tantalizing aroma wafting in from the window wouldn’t let him settle.

Just then, a few weak cat meows came from outside, sounding like a stray cat.

Justin never cared much for animals, but at this moment, looking at the bowl of wontons he no longer wanted, he suddenly had an idea.

He picked up the bowl and walked to the window, looking down to see where the cat was, planning to get rid of the food in the process.

Meanwhile, in apartment 75, Jesse also heard the faint meowing of a cat outside the window.

She had just finished a delicious bowl of wontons, her little belly warm and cozy.

She put down the spoon, wiped her mouth, and looked expectantly at Jean Ellison, "Mom, there’s a little cat outside meowing, can I go out and see?"

Jean immediately became alert.

They were new to the area, completely unfamiliar with the neighborhood, and she couldn’t allow Jesse to go out alone.

"No, Jesse," she said gently but firmly, "it’s getting dark outside, we just got here, and we’re not familiar with the surroundings, you can’t go out by yourself."

Jesse’s little face immediately fell, eyes filled with disappointment, mumbling softly, "Just one glance..."

Aunt Mason saw the situation, feeling for the child.

She put down her chopsticks, saying to Jean, "Miss, don’t worry, I’ll take the child out for a look. Just nearby at the entrance, not going far, I’ve lived here for a few years, somewhat familiar with the area, with me around, it’s okay, you can finish your meal in peace."

Jean eyed Aunt Mason’s reassuring gaze, then looked at her daughter’s eager face, hesitated for a moment, and finally nodded.

"Alright then. Aunt Mason, please. Do not go far, just have a look and come right back."

"Don’t worry."

Aunt Mason agreed with a smile, getting up to find her coat and scarf.

New York was quite chilly in the early winter evening.

Aunt Mason carefully dressed Jesse in a thick coat and pulled out a soft wool scarf, wrapping it snugly around Jesse’s neck and lower face, leaving only a pair of big, bright eyes.

Finally, she put a fuzzy knit cap on Jesse, wrapping the little head tightly.

"It’s cold outside, can’t let our little treasure freeze."

Aunt Mason lovingly patted the pom-pom on Jesse’s hat.

Jesse let herself be dressed obediently, her mind only on the little cat.

Before heading out, she remembered to grab a half-eaten sausage from the table, whispering, "For the kitty."

Aunt Mason chuckled, taking her thickly gloved small hand, "Alright, our Jesse is so kind-hearted, let’s go."

The elder and the young one opened the door and went out.

The hallway was somewhat dim, they walked slowly down the stairs.

Justin, holding the bowl of cold wontons, stood at his apartment’s door, ready to head downstairs to find that persistently meowing cat.

He had just pulled open his door when he heard footsteps and faint chatter from the stairs next door.

He instinctively glanced over. He saw an elderly Asian woman holding the hand of a little girl wrapped in thick clothes, her face almost completely hidden by a scarf and hat, coming down the stairs from the neighboring unit.

The little girl seemed to be holding something in her hand.

Justin Holden’s gaze lingered on them for less than a second.

Just an ordinary elderly woman and her granddaughter, quite common in New York.

He didn’t have any associations, only thinking about getting rid of the bowl in his hand as soon as possible.

He carried the bowl, walked downstairs first, and came to the small open space at the apartment building entrance.

He looked around, searching for any sign of the cat.

The meowing seemed to be coming from the bushes nearby.

At this moment, Aunt Mason also walked out with Jesse. As soon as Jesse heard the clear meowing, he excitedly wanted to run towards the bushes, but Aunt Mason gently held him back, "Slow down, don’t scare it."

Justin Holden heard the accented Chinese of the old woman and the noise of the child behind him, but he did not turn around. His attention was focused on the small orange cat that had poked half its head out of the bushes.

He bent down, placed the bowl on the ground, and gently pushed it towards the bushes.

The orange cat watched him warily, then glanced at the bowl, hesitating to approach.

Justin stood up straight, no longer paying attention, and turned to head back upstairs.

As he passed by Aunt Mason and Jesse, his pace didn’t slow a bit, not even giving them a second glance.

His profile appeared particularly cold and distant under the street lamp.

Jesse’s full attention was on the kitten and did not notice the tall uncle passing by quickly.

Aunt Mason, however, glanced at Justin Holden’s back, feeling that this young man had a cold temperament and looked somewhat familiar, but she didn’t think much of it.

Justin went straight upstairs, returning to his silent and cold apartment.

He shut the door, excluding the faint meowing from outside, the childish voices, and the old woman’s comforting tones.

He sat back at his desk, trying to immerse himself in work again.

Downstairs, under Aunt Mason’s encouragement, Jesse cautiously broke the sausage into small pieces, placing them not far from the cat’s bowl.

The orange cat finally couldn’t resist the temptation of food, cautiously approaching, first eating Jesse’s sausage, then sniffing the cold dumplings Justin had put down.

The stray cat didn’t seem interested in the dumplings, meowed twice, and ran away.

Jesse watched the kitten run far away, and even though he didn’t get to touch it, he was still very happy.

Aunt Mason took his hand, "Alright, the kitty is full, we should go back too, otherwise mom will worry."

Jesse nodded and followed Aunt Mason back.

They went upstairs, opened the door, and warm light and the lingering aroma of food greeted them, instantly dispelling the cold air from outside.

Justin went back upstairs, handled some documents for a while, but felt somewhat restless.

He got up and walked to the window, wanting some fresh air, his eyes instinctively falling on the spot downstairs where he had left the bowl earlier.

The orange cat was nowhere to be seen.

The bowl was still tilted in its place, the dumplings inside barely touched, but there were bits of sausage scattered around the bowl that didn’t belong to the dumplings.

Justin frowned slightly.

Did someone feed the cat?

When he went down to place the bowl just now, he didn’t see anyone nearby.

Could it have been the old woman and the child who fed it?

He didn’t think much about it, only feeling that the cat was quite picky, not even eating the dumplings he cooked, only liking sausage.

He withdrew his gaze, closed the window, shutting out the evening chill.

Meanwhile, in Apartment 75, Jesse was excitedly gesturing to Jean Ellison, "Mom, the kitten was orange, so small, it seemed hungry, meowing. It didn’t like the dumplings in the bowl, only ate the sausage I gave it!"

Jean, while tidying up the dishes, asked with some doubt, "Dumplings in a bowl?"

Beside her, Aunt Mason chimed in, explaining, "Oh, when we went down, we saw a bowl next to the cat, with some cooked dumplings inside. It seemed like someone purposely left it there for the cat to eat."

"But the cat just sniffed at it and didn’t seem interested, probably because the taste wasn’t to its liking."

"Looks like there’s another Chinese among our neighbors here, but their dumpling-making skills," Aunt Mason said with a hint of self-satisfaction about her own skills, "can’t compare to ours."

Jean laughed upon hearing this, "Seems so. But this neighbor has a good heart, knowing to feed the stray cats."

She didn’t dwell on this little matter, her concern more about her daughter’s safety and how she’s adjusting.

"Jesse, if you want to see the kitten again, you must have Grandma Mason or mom accompany you, absolutely no going out by yourself, okay?"

Jesse nodded vigorously, "I understand, mom."

The scene shifts to Apartment 77. Justin Holden felt a sudden unexplainable chill and sneezed.

He walked over to the coat rack, picked up his suit jacket, and put it on.

The jacket still carried a cold, woody scent, lacking the warmth of home, just like this temporary residence.

He stood in the middle of the empty living room, overlooking the night view outside the window. The night in New York, though brilliant, felt distant.