Chapter 13: Hiring a Cat
The street grew livelier as neighbors greeted each other. So pushed wooden wheelbarrows to work, others opened shops, and Anxi Street finally brimd with life.
The little black cat hid in the shadows, its gaze wary and cold but unwilling to leave.
“This bead must be important to you,” I murmured. “Even after I teased you and it repelled you, you still won’t give up.”
I beckoned the cat to follow 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 stead buns and rolls, white steam rising in the morning sun.
I looked up, and the black cat was staring at the baskets…
Its gaze reminded of myself as a child, eyeing instant noodles on soone’s table on that green-skinned train.
I hesitated, then approached the diner: “How much for a bun?”
The worker smiled: “Little Doctor Chen, buns are still two wen each, sa as always.”
I pulled two wen from my sleeve—the money from yesterday’s floor-scrubbing, all I had.
“One, please,” I said, handing over the coins.
The worker chuckled: “Just one? Enough to eat?”
I smiled: “It’s all I’ve got. Can’t afford more.”
The worker looked surprised. Who’d admit to being so broke they couldn’t 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, unashad.
“Alright, one bun it is,” the worker said warmly.
I glanced at the black cat on the eaves and asked: “Can I ask sothing? Is there a place nearby to buy fish?”
“You want fish?”
“Just checking. I don’t have money to buy yet.”
The worker grinned: “Only smoked fish around here. For fresh fish, you’d need East Market—a round trip takes over an hour.”
“Are fish expensive?”
“Depends on the fish,” he said. “Crucian or grass carp are cheap, ten wen a jin. Perch is pricier, about thirty wen a jin. They say the rich rchants and scholars in East Market even eat sea fish. Back when Luocheng was thriving in the last dynasty, tons of sea fish ca in daily.”
I asked casually: “Luocheng’s not thriving now?”
“Tis have changed,” the worker said. “Back in the previous dynasty, this was the capital, all glitz and glamour. Now it’s faded. Only so old lords still brag about the capital days, but everyone knows the real prosperity’s in Shengjing up north and Jinling down south.” He lifted a basket lid, handing a bun wrapped in hemp paper amid the steam: “Here, your bun.”
I didn’t eat it. Instead, I placed it on the clinic’s threshold, then picked up my pole and buckets, heading inside.
The black cat leapt down to the clinic’s 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.
…
…
Since She Dakang and Liu Quxing brawled in the back courtyard, they hadn’t 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 dicine, focusing on external injuries.
At so point, I dozed off at the counter. When I woke, the black cat from Evening Star Courtyard was quietly perched there, staring at .
Its fur was matted, a new wound on its neck oozing blood.
I smiled, raising a hand to greet it: “How do you move so silently? Got beat up again?”
The cat raised its head defiantly.
It looked like a man after a fight, stiff-necked: He didn’t get the better of !
In truth, that’s the loser’s line…
“Wait a sec,” I said, fetching a “fire stick” from the kitchen to light the oil-slag lamp on the counter.
The small fla flickered, barely lighting the room, just enough for and the cat.
I blew out the burning splinter, muttering: “You keep fighting Consort Yun’s cat, and Consort Jing doesn’t treat your wounds? Why not avoid it for now, or it’ll beat you to death.”
The cat raised its head, looking unconvinced.
“Don’t be stubborn,” I gestured. “You’re so small, probably not even a year old. It’s much bigger—you can’t win. A gentleman’s revenge can wait ten years. When you’re ready, go for it.”
I got serious: “But when you do, make it one fatal strike. Don’t give it a chance to fight back.”
The cat’s eyes glinted with thoughtfulness.
I wondered: “Can you actually understand ?”
No reaction.
I smiled: “Let put so dicine on you.”
The cat watched as I flipped through the dical book, muttering: “Let’s see what treats wounds. I studied this today… Right, cnidium seeds. There’s plenty of that—Master won’t notice if I take a gram.”
The cat’s tense body relaxed slightly.
I took so dried cnidium seeds and ground them into powder.
Looking at the cat: “I’m applying a hemostatic. Don’t scratch .”
To my surprise, as I spread the powder on its wounds, it didn’t flinch, as if it knew I was helping.
The cat sat like a small statue, its gaze following , its bristled fur gradually settling.
Its thick fur required careful inspection, taking ti.
When I finished treating its wounds, I smiled: “All done!”
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 mont.
Looking down at the cat, I mused after a long pause: “Guess I’ve got a companion now.”
The cat opened its eyes, gently placing a paw on my wrist, as if comforting .
I stared at the fluffy paw, stunned, then said: “I bet you keep losing to the white cat, and Consort Jing and Chunrong are annoyed you’re not tougher, so they don’t treat your wounds or feed you. That’s why a noble consort’s cat is eyeing a at bun, right?”
The cat watched silently.
I asked earnestly: “How about when I’m able to leave the clinic, you co with to wander the martial world?”
The cat looked puzzled.
“No, we need so ceremony!” I pulled a prescription sheet from the counter, writing crookedly with a brush in the ancient style of a cat-hiring ritual: “Cat of Luocheng’s ways, cloaked in dark clouds, I, Chen Ji, hire ‘Dark Cloud’ to join my ho. 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.”
As the final word landed, I took red ink and looked at the cat: “If you understand and want to co with , press your paw print.”
In my gaze, the cat hesitated, then lifted its paw, dipped it in the ink, and pressed it onto the paper.
The next mont, the paper burst into flas without fire, dissolving into sparkling motes in the air.
I stared at the dazzling sight, murmuring: “This world really isn’t normal…”
A voice asked: “What’s not normal?”
My head slowly turned toward the black cat…
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