The year I adopted the orange cat "Chenpi," I was going through the toughest low point in my life. One night, I was sitting on the sofa crying when it suddenly jumped down from the windowsill, gently stepped over my outstretched knees, and placed its cold little paws on the back of my hand. Usually, it would rub against me and then run off, but that day it curled up on my lap without moving, its purring like a small heater. Later, I noticed that no matter how late I worked overtime, the small night light on the living room windowsill was always on, and Chenpi would always lie on the mat next to the light, its eyes shining brightly as it stared at the door. It turned out that it had long regarded "waiting for me to come home" as the most important thing every day.