Chapter 13: Hiring a Cat
The street grew livelier as neighbors greeted each other. Some pushed wooden wheelbarrows to work, others opened shops, and Anxi Street finally brimmed with life.
The little black cat hid in the shadows, its gaze wary and cold but unwilling to leave.
âThis bead must be important to you,â I murmured. âEven after I teased you and it repelled you, you still wonât give up.â
I beckoned the cat to follow me into the clinic, but it stayed still, watching from the dark.
Then, the diner across the street stirred. A young worker removed the shutters, carrying out baskets of steamed buns and rolls, white steam rising in the morning sun.
I looked up, and the black cat was staring at the basketsâŠ
Its gaze reminded me of myself as a child, eyeing instant noodles on someoneâs table on that green-skinned train.
I hesitated, then approached the diner: âHow much for a bun?â
The worker smiled: âLittle Doctor Chen, buns are still two wen each, same as always.â
I pulled two wen from my sleeveâthe money from yesterdayâs floor-scrubbing, all I had.
âOne, please,â I said, handing over the coins.
The worker chuckled: âJust one? Enough to eat?â
I smiled: âItâs all Iâve got. Canât afford more.â
The worker looked surprised. Whoâd admit to being so broke they couldnât spare two wen for an extra bun?
A bun cost two wen, a jin of rice ten wen, a jin of eggs twenty wen. Even the poorest households could usually scrape together two wen.
But I was open about it, unashamed.
âAlright, one bun it is,â the worker said warmly.
I glanced at the black cat on the eaves and asked: âCan I ask something? Is there a place nearby to buy fish?â
âYou want fish?â
âJust checking. I donât have money to buy yet.â
The worker grinned: âOnly smoked fish around here. For fresh fish, youâd need East Marketâa round trip takes over an hour.â
âAre fish expensive?â
âDepends on the fish,â he said. âCrucian or grass carp are cheap, ten wen a jin. Perch is pricier, about thirty wen a jin. They say the rich merchants and scholars in East Market even eat sea fish. Back when Luocheng was thriving in the last dynasty, tons of sea fish came in daily.â
I asked casually: âLuochengâs not thriving now?â
âTimes have changed,â the worker said. âBack in the previous dynasty, this was the capital, all glitz and glamour. Now itâs faded. Only some old lords still brag about the capital days, but everyone knows the real prosperityâs in Shengjing up north and Jinling down south.â He lifted a basket lid, handing me a bun wrapped in hemp paper amid the steam: âHere, your bun.â
I didnât eat it. Instead, I placed it on the clinicâs threshold, then picked up my pole and buckets, heading inside.
The black cat leapt down to the clinicâs entrance, sniffed the bun, then turned away proudly, as if rejecting my gesture.
But after a few steps, it turned back and grabbed the bun.
At the entrance, it watched my back as I carried water to the courtyard, seeming to want to follow but ultimately leaving.
âŠ
âŠ
Since She Dakang and Liu Quxing brawled in the back courtyard, they hadnât returned to the main hall. With Master gone, both slacked off, avoiding work.
I was fine with the quiet. When hungry, I grabbed a coarse grain pancake from the kitchen; when thirsty, I boiled water from the tank. If patients brought prescriptions, I weighed the herbs; if they needed diagnosis, I politely declined.
I spent the day studying
The Compendium of Medicine
, focusing on external injuries.
At some point, I dozed off at the counter. When I woke, the black cat from Evening Star Courtyard was quietly perched there, staring at me.
Its fur was matted, a new wound on its neck oozing blood.
I smiled, raising a hand to greet it: âHow do you move so silently? Got beat up again?â
The cat raised its head defiantly.
It looked like a man after a fight, stiff-necked:
He didnât get the better of me!
In truth, thatâs the loserâs lineâŠ
âWait a sec,â I said, fetching a âfire stickâ from the kitchen to light the oil-slag lamp on the counter.
The small flame flickered, barely lighting the room, just enough for me and the cat.
I blew out the burning splinter, muttering: âYou keep fighting Consort Yunâs cat, and Consort Jing doesnât treat your wounds? Why not avoid it for now, or itâll beat you to death.â
The cat raised its head, looking unconvinced.
âDonât be stubborn,â I gestured. âYouâre so small, probably not even a year old. Itâs much biggerâyou canât win. A gentlemanâs revenge can wait ten years. When youâre ready, go for it.â
I got serious: âBut when you do, make it one fatal strike. Donât give it a chance to fight back.â
The catâs eyes glinted with thoughtfulness.
I wondered: âCan you actually understand me?â
No reaction.
I smiled: âLet me put some medicine on you.â
The cat watched as I flipped through the medical book, muttering: âLetâs see what treats wounds. I studied this today⊠Right, cnidium seeds. Thereâs plenty of thatâMaster wonât notice if I take a gram.â
The catâs tense body relaxed slightly.
I took some dried cnidium seeds and ground them into powder.
Looking at the cat: âIâm applying a hemostatic. Donât scratch me.â
To my surprise, as I spread the powder on its wounds, it didnât flinch, as if it knew I was helping.
The cat sat like a small statue, its gaze following me, its bristled fur gradually settling.
Its thick fur required careful inspection, taking time.
When I finished treating its wounds, I smiled: âAll done!â
As I spoke, I noticed the cat had fallen asleep, its head resting on my palm.
I stayed silent, not moving my hand.
In that small pool of light, one person and one cat shared a quiet, gentle moment.
Looking down at the cat, I mused after a long pause: âGuess Iâve got a companion now.â
The cat opened its eyes, gently placing a paw on my wrist, as if comforting me.
I stared at the fluffy paw, stunned, then said: âI bet you keep losing to the white cat, and Consort Jing and Chunrong are annoyed youâre not tougher, so they donât treat your wounds or feed you. Thatâs why a noble consortâs cat is eyeing a meat bun, right?â
The cat watched me silently.
I asked earnestly: âHow about when Iâm able to leave the clinic, you come with me to wander the martial world?â
The cat looked puzzled.
âNo, we need some ceremony!â I pulled a prescription sheet from the counter, writing crookedly with a brush in the ancient style of a cat-hiring ritual: âCat of Luochengâs ways, cloaked in dark clouds, I, Chen Ji, hire âDark Cloudâ to join my home. Lacking dried fish, I offer a crystal bead as betrothal. Witnessed by the Kitchen God, never to abandon; witnessed by the City God, bound by grace and duty.â
As the final word landed, I took red ink and looked at the cat: âIf you understand me and want to come with me, press your paw print.â
In my gaze, the cat hesitated, then lifted its paw, dipped it in the ink, and pressed it onto the paper.
The next moment, the paper burst into flames without fire, dissolving into sparkling motes in the air.
I stared at the dazzling sight, murmuring: âThis world really isnât normalâŠâ
A voice asked: âWhatâs not normal?â
My head slowly turned toward the black catâŠ