Peking Opera Cat: I Became A Zi's Brother

When Mo Yun walked to the center of the square, the sun was already rising higher and higher. The bluestone slabs were hot from the sun, reflecting the shadows of the cats passing by.

"It's already this late after a sleepless night..."

On the stone bench under the old banyan tree, several old men were chatting while fanning themselves with palm-leaf fans, and the tea bowls in their hands made crisp sounds when they clashed against each other.

Zhang Ji’s dumpling stall was not far away. The blue cloth roof swayed gently in the wind, and the white steam from the iron pot was like a soft ribbon, wrapped around the flying red pepper strings.

Boss Zhang was bending over to add firewood to the stove. The firelight illuminated half of his face, and the long-handled spoon in his hand stirred in the pot, making a "splashing" sound.

"Uncle Zhang."

Mo Yun stood in front of the stall, her voice muffled by the heat.

Boss Zhang stood up, turned around and saw him, paused with the spoon in his hand, and then smiled:

"It's Xiaoyun, but she hasn't been here for a while."

He wiped his hands on his apron and nodded towards the bench next to him.

"Sit down, these shrimp dumplings are freshly steamed and still hot."

When Mo Yun sat down, the warmth of the bamboo stool seeped through the fabric, making her feel really hot.

He looked at the dough piled on the chopping board. Boss Zhang was quickly picking out the stuffing with a bamboo knife. The fresh aroma of shrimp mixed with bamboo shoots wafted over, coinciding with a certain morning in his memory - he had just woken up not long ago and felt uneasy about everything around him. It was Boss Zhang who stuffed a bowl of fish dumplings into his hand and said, "Eat something hot, and you'll feel at ease."

"How's business those days?"

He watched Boss Zhang making shrimp dumplings. His fingertips flew, and even folds were pinched out on the edges of the dumplings.

"Same old,"

Boss Zhang responded and put the dumplings into the steamer.

"The cats in town come here often, but... you guys are missing to make some noise."

He suddenly smiled and pointed to the small bamboo plate next to him with his chin.

"Look at those fish tail steamed buns. I changed the recipe just as you suggested. The wrapper is thinner and the filling is filled with more fresh shrimp. The kids love them. A while ago, I kept thinking about you helping me test the filling, standing here for an entire afternoon, saying, 'Uncle Zhang, add some ginger and it won't be fishy.'"

Mo Yun looked at the plate of steamed buns. The dough was pinched into the shape of fish tails and was lightly pink, like a bunch of curled up little fish.

He recalled that he was squatting under the shed to taste the food, and Bai Tang was always peeking over from the side. Whenever Boss Zhang turned around, he would steal one and stuff it into his mouth. When he was discovered, he would hide behind him, mumbling, "Brother Mo Yun also said it was delicious."

Thinking about it now, the stolen steamed buns mixed with the childish sweetness have become a very unforgettable taste.

"I added chopped water chestnuts, which you said can relieve greasiness."

Boss Zhang opened the steamer, and white steam surged up with a stronger fragrance.

"Come on, have a taste."

Mo Yun picked up one, and the heat made her fingertips numb.

When you bite through the thin skin, the tenderness of the shrimp meat mixed with the crispness and sweetness of the water chestnuts spread on the tip of your tongue, which is indeed more refreshing than before.

He chewed slowly and said nothing.

"Last time you said you wanted to bring shrimp dumplings for the owner's mother-in-law,"

Boss Zhang was putting fish dumplings into the pot while he was talking to me,

"How is she doing lately? I saw her passing by a while ago. She stood at the street corner and watched for a long time, but she didn't come over. I know she's feeling miserable. You kids are so close to her as if she were your own."

Mo Yun hummed, her eyes falling on the bamboo basket beside the stove, where the copper coins saved from sugar used to be placed. She said that when she had enough, she would treat everyone to everything on the stall, but in the end she couldn't help but spend it in advance, and came to him with a sad face to beg him to "borrow" a few.

"Xiaoyun,"

Boss Zhang pushed a bowl of fish dumplings in front of him. Green chopped green onions were floating on the soup.

"I know you're feeling bad. That kid... used to hang around here all the time, saying that once we won the war, he'd drag you over and order all the shrimp dumplings, fish dumplings, and steamed buns. He'd also let you try the dipping sauce he made—he said it was just sugar sprinkled into the vinegar, guaranteed to be delicious."

He sighed,

"This child's mind is as pure as a piece of candy."

Mo Yun tightened her grip on the chopsticks, her knuckles turning white.

The heat from the soup blurred his vision. He seemed to see Bai Tang again standing on tiptoe beside the stall, counting copper coins with sparkling eyes. The sunlight fell on his furry head, making people feel weak in the face.

"Give me another basket of shrimp dumplings. I'll take them back to the owner's mother-in-law."

he whispered.

Boss Zhang packed the dumplings skillfully, and the shrimp dumplings wrapped in oil paper were still steaming hot.

"Take it,"

He handed over the paper bag.

"Tell the boss that life has to go on. My stall is here. When you figure it out, come and have a hot bowl of food."

Mo Yun took the paper package, and the temperature passed through the paper to his palm, it was really hot.

He looked up at Boss Zhang. There was no extra sympathy in the old man's eyes, only the generosity of this old town, as if to say: No matter how sad it is, life must go on.

"Thank you, Uncle Zhang."

He stood up and walked back, the paper package heavy in his hands.

The noise in the square continued, the candy man was playing a Monkey King, and the children were clapping their hands.

Farmers carrying vegetable baskets were shouting loudly, and the dew on the vegetables was shining in the sun.

Mo Yun walked among the cats, listening to Boss Zhang's call from behind:

“Steamed shrimp dumplings—hot from the oven!”

The sunlight fell on the oil-paper bag, casting a faint shadow.

He suddenly felt that this warm temperature seemed to contain some unspoken thoughts - those absent cats had actually been staying peacefully in these familiar smells and the bustling atmosphere of this town.

……

When Mo Yun walked out of the last stone steps of the town, the sun had already passed noon.

The wild chrysanthemums on both sides of the mountain road were wilted by the sun, and their petals were curled into small tubes, as if someone had wrapped all their worries inside.

The shrimp dumpling wrapper in his hand had already gone cold, the edges wrinkled by sweat, but he was still holding it tightly.

The water source in the back mountain is hidden deep in an old forest. The closer you get, the more damp the air becomes, mixed with the fishy smell of rotten leaves, as if immersed in old memories.

The third time I set foot on this road, the pebbles under my feet seemed to be cooked, and the position of the stones on my feet was exactly the same as the previous two times - the first time was when I accidentally stumbled into it while chasing monsters with Bai Tang and the others, the second time was when I came alone to find a way to purify the water, and this time, I came to see an old friend.

The source of the water is a deep pool, the water is dark green, like a piece of jade worn by time.

In the middle of the pool stood a huge rock half submerged in water. The surface of the rock was covered with moss, and only a small area on the top was clean, as if it had been often rubbed by something.

Mo Yun stood by the pond, gathered a bit of light blue rhyme power on his fingertips, and gently pointed it towards the water surface.

The moment Yunli fell into the water, there were no ripples on the surface of the lake. Instead, it seemed as if it was frozen, and the green color became even darker.

After a while, a huge shadow slowly emerged from the bottom of the water, and its scales glowed coldly in the dark, like broken stars.

When the python's head emerged from the water, water splashed on Mo Yun's trouser legs, as cool as the moisture it sprayed on Bai Tang's face when they first met that year.

"coming."

The Bashe's voice was very low, with a wet sound, and seemed to come from far away.

Its pupils shrank into a vertical line, staring at the oil-paper bag in Mo Yun's hand.

"I didn't bring that noisy kitten this time."

Mo Yun placed the oil-paper package on the stone beside the pond, and the corner of the paper was blown away by the wind.

"He's not coming."

He said, his voice as smooth as the water on the surface of a pond,

"The first two times you came, he kept asking you to perform the water ring trick again, saying he wanted to learn it to entertain Wu Song."

The python was silent for a moment, then gently swung its huge tail under the water, causing fine ripples on the surface of the pond.

"I know."

it says,

"The last time you came here alone, you carried his scent on you. It was very faint, like a cigarette that was about to dissipate."

Mo Yun squatted down and touched the water with his fingertips. The cold touch climbed up along his fingertips and penetrated into the gaps between his bones.

"When I first met you, he always said you looked like a dragon in an opera. He insisted on climbing on your back to see the scenery. You used your tail to wrap him up and threw him into the water, choking and coughing. He would still laugh and shout, 'Brother Mo Yun, look, its scales glow.'"

He paused, and stroked the wrinkles on the water surface with his fingertips.

"His rhythmic ability was still very weak at that time, but he always loved to rush into dangerous places, as if he had to shoulder all the troubles in the world."

The python lowered its head towards the water surface, its nose almost touching Mo Yun's fingertips.

"You Peking Opera Cats, all of you are like this."

it says,

"Xiu was the same back then. He clearly couldn't beat me, but he insisted on standing on that stone, saying things like 'protection isn't about devouring, it's about coexistence.'"

It suddenly laughed, and the sound of its laughter made the water in the pond fall down.

"That kitten has some of Xiu's shadow on it, but it's a little too hasty, like a fire that burns too brightly and burns out before it can even be fueled."

Mo Yun didn't respond, but took out something from his arms and gently placed it on the clean stone top.

It was a grape seed, rubbed very smooth, with white edges - it was the last one that Bai Tang stuffed into him, and it was originally supposed to be buried under the grape trellis.

"He always said that your scales are prettier than the sequins on your costumes and that he wanted to pick one to take back to the troupe owner's mother-in-law for needlework."

He watched the grape seed roll half a circle on the top of the stone and stop at the edge.

"He also said that after we defeat An, he would bring everyone from the Xingluo squad over for a picnic by the pond, and let you fan them with your tail."

The python's pupils shrank again, as if it was pricked by something.

It slowly sank into the water, leaving only a pair of eyes exposed, looking at the grape seeds on the stone top.

"I'll help him watch."

it says,

"When a kitten comes to pick the scales one day, I'll know he's back."

As Mo Yun stood up, his knees cracked, a sound that was particularly clear in the quiet of the forest. He didn't pick up the cold shrimp dumpling, but let it lie on the stone, like a forgotten promise.

"The first two times I came, I was always asking for your help. I wanted to purify the water and find a way to fight against Chaos."

He says,

"I just came to tell you this time that he doesn't have to learn how to spit water rings anymore, and he doesn't have to rush to grow up and shoulder any responsibilities."

When the python's tail swung again, circles of ripples appeared on the surface of the pond, just surrounding the grape seeds on the top of the stone in the center, as if weaving a transparent cage for it.

"I know."

it says,

"Just like this pool of water, you stirred it up twice with your rhyme power, but this time it can finally rest."

When Mo Yun turned around and walked back, she heard the sound of water splashing behind her.

When I looked back, the python had sunk to the bottom of the pool. Only the grape seeds on the top of the stone were still there, gently supported by a circle of water ripples, like a star that would never fall.

The wind blew through the woods, making the rotten leaves rustle, as if someone was whispering something, or as if someone was blowing away all the unfinished words.

The way down the mountain was quieter than the way up. The petals of the wild chrysanthemums were a little more spread out, but still not completely opened.

Mo Yun touched his chest. In that space of rhyme power, the warmth became even deeper, like a pool of water, hiding all the waves underneath, leaving only a little light that would not go out in the depths.