Peking Opera Cat: I Became A Zi's Brother

The wooden windows of the bamboo building swayed slightly in the morning breeze. Molan had been standing in the corridor for half an hour.

The dew on the stone steps soaked the tips of her shoes, and the coldness climbed up along the soles of her feet, but the anxiety in her heart was even worse than the morning chill.

His gaze passed over the banana leaves in the corner of the yard and fell on the steaming mist on the back mountain. The blue rhythmic energy there was becoming weaker and weaker, like a silk thread that was about to be worn off by the water.

"Madam Rong, go reheat the ginger soup on the stove."

When she turned around, there was a barely perceptible tremor in her voice.

Nanny Rong responded and turned around, wiping the corners of her eyes with her sleeves - these past few days, the sect leader always went to Mo Yun's room to sit for a while at night, touching his neatly folded robes and staring blankly. At dawn, the red threads in his eyes were denser than the spider webs on the eaves.

Molan looked at the mist again.

She knew her son too well. Although he looked as hard as bluestone, he had a heart heavier than anyone else's.

On the day Bai Tang left, when he came back holding the ball of white fluff, his hands were shaking, but he didn't shed a single tear in front of his family.

She knew that those unshed tears turned into dull pain like a waterfall, hitting his heart again and again.

"Can't wait any longer."

She bit her lip, turned around and walked quickly through the corridor.

Mo Zi's door was ajar, and intermittent sighs came from inside, as if he was angry with someone.

When I pushed open the door, I saw my little daughter with her face buried in the pillow, half of the purse in her hand was exposed, and the stitches were crawling crookedly across the cloth like a lost little snake.

"Azi."

Mo Zi suddenly looked up, tears still hanging on her eyelashes. Seeing her mother coming in, she hurriedly wiped her tears with her sleeve, but her face was covered with tears:

"Mom, I didn't cry... I just couldn't embroider the purse well. My brother used to say the dried fish I embroidered looked like stones..."

Molan walked over, sat beside the bed and patted her back gently.

The daughter's shoulders were still trembling. A few days ago, she injured her internal energy when she used her rhythmic power to protect Mo Zi. Now she spoke with a breath.

"Your brother was pushing himself too hard under the waterfall."

Molan lowered her voice, and her fingertips stroked the broken jade bracelet on her daughter's wrist.

"No one else can help him overcome the hurdle in his heart, but someone needs to give him a hand. Go and talk to him, and tell him... Mom made him her favorite lotus seed soup, and if he doesn't eat it now, it's going to get cold."

Mo Zi's tears fell even harder, but she nodded vigorously.

She knew that her brother was not avoiding them on purpose, he was just afraid that his sadness would infect others.

Just like when she was little and broke her knee, her brother was obviously more anxious than her, but he could only say with a straight face

"Why are you crying? This little injury is nothing."

She got up and stuffed the purse into her arms. The thread at the end of the needle got caught on her lapel, and her teeth trembled as she bent down and bit it off.

"Mom, I'm going right away."

She tied her belt and almost tripped over the threshold when she turned around. She held onto the door frame to steady herself and looked back at her mother. Tears were still welling up in her eyes, but she was still determined to get things done.

"I will definitely bring my brother back."

Molan watched her back disappear outside the courtyard gate, and her hand holding the door frame trembled slightly.

The sparrows under the corridor had landed on the ground at some point, chirping loudly, making the bamboo house seem especially quiet.

Mo Zi walked up the mountain path. The morning dew wet her skirt and stained it with a lot of grass seeds.

When she reached the old pine tree, she paused. Usually at this time, she and Xiaoqing would always stand here, listening to the roar of the waterfall and wondering if her brother had lost his rhythm again.

But today, the sound of the waterfall seemed to have changed. It was no longer the dull crash of before, but instead had a strange hazy quality.

She was about to move forward when the stones under her feet suddenly bounced slightly.

It's not the wind, it's the ground shaking.

A deep blue rhythmic force suddenly rose from the direction of the waterfall without warning, like a deep sea suddenly awakened, instantly flooding the clouds above.

The power was immense, but not violent. Instead, it carried a kind of inclusive warmth. When it brushed across her cheek, it felt like her brother's palm that shielded her from the rain when she was a child.

Mo Zi took a step back in shock, and held the purse even tighter - this was her brother's rhythmic power, but it was heavier and steadier than ever before.

Then, the energy that had surged into the sky began to slowly recede, like a receding tide, inch by inch returning to its source. The mist gradually dissipated, revealing the figure on the bluestone.

Mo Yun slowly stood up, and water flowed down his robe, forming a small stream on the ground.

He raised his hand to wipe his face, and the water droplets at the ends of his hair dripped onto his collarbone, creating a small dark spot.

The previously tense shoulders and back relaxed a little, and the rhythmic energy around the body was no longer a cold barrier, but flowed naturally like breathing. The light blue light reflected the morning light, and there was actually a bit of warmth.

He walked down the mountain path, not walking fast, but taking each step firmly.

When he passed the patch of grass where the sugar was buried, he stopped and looked at the pile of earth with bamboo sticks stuck in it. The imprint of the dried fish on the bamboo sticks was wet by the dew, and it seemed to come alive.

The wind blew the grass leaves past his ankles. This time, he didn't lower his head to look for anything. He just smiled lightly and continued walking forward.

Turning the bend in the mountain road, he saw Mo Zi standing under the old pine tree.

The little daughter was wearing a turquoise dress, like a blade of grass wet with morning dew. When she saw him, her eyes suddenly turned red, but she bit her lips tightly to prevent herself from crying out loud.

Mo Yun quickened his pace. When he reached her, the moisture on his body had not yet dissipated, and he carried the coolness of a waterfall.

He looked down at his sister's clenched white fingers and the corner of the purse sticking out of her arms, then reached out and gently rubbed her hair.

"Azi."

His voice was lower than usual, but steady, with a kind of calmness after settling down.

"Brother is back."

Mo Zi couldn't help but let her tears fall, hitting the back of his hand, warm.

"make you worry."

He added, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his fingertips, touching the unwiped tear marks on her chin, like the paw prints left by a frightened kitten.

In the bamboo building in the distance, Molan heard the noise and quickly walked to the gate of the courtyard.

Seeing the two figures on the mountain path - the brother leaned over slightly to help his sister tidy up her hairband that was messed up by the wind, and the sister tilted her head back, tears falling like beads from a broken string, but she was smiling - her hand that was holding the door frame slowly loosened, and a warm feeling surged in her throat.

The copper bells on the eaves were jingling in the wind. This time, it sounded like someone was sighing softly, or breathing a sigh of relief.

……

An hour ago

Amid the roar of the waterfall hitting the bluestone, Mo Yun's figure, who was sitting cross-legged, suddenly moved.

He wasn't shaken by the current, he opened his eyes on his own.

His pupils reflected the white of the surging water curtain, and those images that repeatedly tore at him - Bai Tang's final relieved smile, the black when the chaos exploded, the white of his mother's temples in the bamboo house, and the broken jade bracelet on Mo Zi's wrist - suddenly seemed to be strung together by an invisible thread, and suddenly stretched straight in the depths of his mind.

"Om-"

It felt like something had knocked my eyebrows apart. It wasn't painful, but a sudden sense of clarity and brightness.

He had always thought he was trapped in "loss," trapped in the guilt of personally killing his companions, but now he realized that beneath that guilt lay a deeper mystery:

Why Bai Tang? Why is there always an inexplicable chaotic energy hidden in his rhythmic energy? Why does he always emit a faint glow at the end of a battle that even purification cannot completely eliminate?

Just like now, the water droplets of the water curtain exploded before his eyes, and in each drop there was the shadow of Bai Tang - the cunning when grabbing the dried fish, the stubbornness when protecting his companions, and the last sentence that was not finished, "Actually, I..."

"I see."

Mo Yun muttered to himself, and the rhythmic power at his fingertips suddenly surged out of control.

The pale blue light was no longer a defensive barrier, but instead like a living vine, it climbed up along the water flow and gathered into a dazzling ball of light at the top of the cliff.

What he had been suppressing with pain was never sadness, but the truth that he dared not delve into - the existence of white sugar carried the paradox of Mao Tu from the very beginning.

He is the light that dispels chaos, yet he also hides the root of chaos; he is a companion, yet he is like a dream that can shatter at any time.

"Boom!"

The rhythmic energy that had accumulated to the extreme suddenly exploded, and the water curtain was split into two halves.

It was not a rough tearing, but a separation with a kind of reconciliation. The water flowed down along the edge of the light, weaving two crystal curtains behind him.

Mo Yun stood up, water droplets still dripping from his robe, but the aura around him had changed - the previous melancholy seemed to have been washed away by this outburst, leaving only an almost cold clarity.

He stepped out of the split water curtain, his bare feet on the wet bluestone. Every step carried the aftermath of rhythmic power, shaking the puddles on the ground slightly.

The morning mist on the mountain road was pushed away by the light from his body, revealing a path leading to the eastern hillside. The grassland covered with white sugar was now coated with a layer of gold by the morning sun.

The bamboo sticks were still stuck in the mound, the imprint of the dried fish was shining in the sun, the two white butterflies had flown away long ago, and only a few dew-soaked grass leaves were left, clinging to the newly turned soil.

Mo Yun stood in front of the mound, without squatting down, but just stared at the piece of bamboo quietly, as if talking to an invisible figure in the air.

"Sugar,"

He spoke, his voice no longer choked with sobs, only a nearly calm statement.

"I seem to...understand a little bit."

The wind blew the grass leaves across his ankles, as if someone was gently sweeping him with their tail. This time, Mo Yun did not lower his head.

"You always say you want to be the most powerful Peking Opera Cat, but the energy you carry has never belonged here."

He raised his hand and pressed his brow, where the stinging pain from the explosion still remained.

"They say you are hope, but in fact you are more like a reminder - the balance of cat and earth is never black and white."

Just like himself, he was clearly the one who protected them, but he buried his companions with his own hands;

I should obviously hate Chaos, but in Bai Tang's last look, I saw the possibility of Chaos and Yunli coexisting.

"They said you were an alien, a cat that shouldn't exist."

Mo Yun's eyes fell on the bamboo strips, and with a light blue light on her fingertips, she gently stroked the crooked dried fish.

"Perhaps they are right. But you are not the only one who shouldn't exist in Cat Earth."

He thought of the old wound medicine his mother had hidden in her medicine chest, left behind from the battle against Chaos ten years ago. The symbols engraved on the medicine bottle were strikingly similar to the scent that occasionally escaped from White Sugar when it lost control.

I recalled the formulas that Madam Rong recited during her nightly prayers, mixed with a few ancient words that did not belong to the doctrines of Peking Opera Cats;

Even thinking of his own rhythmic power, every time he purified the chaos, he would always have an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if he was touching some forgotten root.

"You are not a villain, and I am not absolutely decent."

Mo Yun smiled, that smile contained a bit of self-mockery and a bit of relief.

"We are all just on this road, stumbling along looking for answers."

The morning sun rose higher and higher, stretching its shadow very long, covering the new soil, as if shading the small mound.

He could imagine Bai Tang's appearance at the moment. She would probably jump up with the dried fish in her mouth, pat his shoulder with her paw and shout "Mo Yun, you finally got it", then smack her lips and stuff half of the dried fish into his mouth.

"I used to think that protection meant keeping all dangers out."

Mo Yun's voice became softer, with a hint of nostalgia.

"I now understand that sometimes letting go and accepting the existence of things that 'shouldn't exist' is the most difficult thing to protect."

When he turned around, his robe brought up a gust of wind, causing the bamboo to sway gently.

The grass leaves on the mound were blown away by the wind, revealing a few new grass sprouts underneath, as tender as the fluff on white sugar when it is first born.

"I have to go back." Mo Yun took a last look at the bamboo piece.

"There are still people waiting in the bamboo house. They need a reason to move forward more than I do."

He paused, as if remembering something, and added:

"By the way, the boss's wife is still waiting for us in Dongqiang Town to report back. That time you secretly overturned the dried fish stall at the town entrance, and I got scolded for you. This time when I go back, I'll tell her that I didn't keep good eyes on you, and I'll also tell her..."

His voice paused, and the wind carried the roar of a distant waterfall closing again, as if someone was gently responding.

"...and tell her that you have found your own answer."

Mo Yun turned and walked towards the mountain path. The light blue power slowly spread out behind him, as if covering the grass with a thin layer of light.

The sunlight filtered through his hair, casting tiny specks of light on the ground. Even after he had walked a long way, he could still seem to hear someone smacking their lips behind him, as crisp as dewdrops on grass leaves breaking into the soil.

The wind was still blowing from the eastern hillside, and the imprint of the dried fish on the bamboo slips was hot from the sun, as if quietly responding to this belated understanding on behalf of a name that could not be spoken.