Peking Opera Cat: I Became A Zi's Brother

At the end of the stone ridge, the fog was like a layer of wet and cold cloth, gently sticking to the face of every cat.

There was no wind in the fog, but there was breathing. That breathing did not belong to them, but was like an invisible bell, hanging in the deepest darkness, rising and falling quietly.

Mo Yun raised her hand, and a ring of water flowed slowly along the edge of the stone ridge, like a thin river.

His voice was very low:

"If you don't knock, it won't ring. If it doesn't ring, it won't open."

After he finished speaking, he first aligned his heartbeat with the rhythm of the water ring, and then signaled to Baitang with his eyes.

The sugar beads were slightly warm, like a seed that was quietly ignited.

He closed his eyes and let his breathing become long, as if he was listening to a bell hidden in his chest.

Wu Song held the whistle stick horizontally in his palm, slightly raising his knuckles, leaving the bell only half a breath of freedom.

He stared at Mo Yun's fingertips as if he was staring at a nail about to fall.

Dafei stood behind him, his arms hanging naturally, his shoulder blades like two stones sinking in the water.

Mo Zi gently closed the fan ribs, his fingertips were slightly cool, like a piece of dew resting on the tip of a leaf.

"Now." Mo Yun flicked her fingertips lightly.

Wu Song loosened his knuckles and the bell made an almost inaudible "ding" sound.

The sound of "ding" was like an invisible hand, accurately pressing on the "off beat" of the clock. In the fog, the clock did not ring, but it seemed to be lit.

Invisible ripples spread out from the bottom of the fog. The stone ridge shook slightly, and the darkness ahead was silently pushed aside, revealing a door thinner than the crack of light.

Behind the door was an empty room, its walls smooth as mirrors, yet they reflected no shadows, only the shape of the sound. Five lines were carved into the ground, like five invisible bridges.

Next to each line is an ancient character: water, fire, wind, earth, and space.

"It's 'scale lock'."

Mo Yun explained,

"The five notes correspond to the five elements, and the five elements are the key. If you make a mistake, it will ring, and when it rings, the mud outside will come in."

They looked at each other and took their positions.

Mo Yun stood before the character "水" (water), his palm resting lightly. The water line, like a harp string, lay quietly on the ground. He took a deep breath and flicked his fingertips lightly, making the water line emit a very light "drip".

Silently, ripples appeared on the mirror wall, as if an invisible bell was being touched.

"fire."

Mo Yun's voice was like a fine needle, falling on Wu Song's heart.

Wu Song's bell only rang for half a second before he pressed it down tightly.

That half of light was like a wick being lit, and then quickly covered by a hand.

The ripples on the mirror wall lit up for a moment and then subsided.

"earth."

It's Dafei's turn.

He exhaled, his voice as deep and steady as a stone falling into a deep well.

The sound did not go outward, but sank downward, like a thin vein opening up in the ground.

The mirror wall sank slightly, as if echoing from the earth.

"wind."

The dark purple fan ribs closed lightly, and the sound of the wind was folded into a thin thread by her.

The wind wasn't the kind that brushed the grass, but rather the kind that lingered beneath the leaves, so light it barely lingered, yet omnipresent. The light patterns on the mirror's surface were gently stirred, like someone caressing a pool of still water with their fingertips.

"null."

Finally, there is white sugar.

He pressed the rosary gently, and even the rolling stopped.

Emptiness is not nothingness, but the thin gap between all the sounds. He did nothing, said nothing, and simply let himself become that gap.

The five ripples on the mirror wall slowly approached each other, like five rivers converging into the same sea.

Just when they were about to become one, an untimely "ding" sound came from the direction of Wusong.

That's because his knuckles loosened slightly at the last moment, like a string trembling at its maximum tension.

The light patterns on the mirror wall suddenly became chaotic. Outside the door, the mud puddle made a greedy "gurgling" sound as if it had been fed a mouthful of candy, and the mud surface began to slowly rise.

"Hold on!"

Mo Yun made a prompt decision.

"Again!"

They did not panic. Panic would only feed it, and noise would only hasten it.

The second time, their beat was steadier, their breathing lighter.

"Water - Fire - Earth - Wind - Space."

The five ripples approached again.

This time, at the beat of "empty", Bai Tang pressed the rosary completely, even slowing down his heartbeat by a half a beat.

At that moment, all the sounds seemed to be gently silenced by an invisible hand.

The five ripples on the mirror wall merged into one, forming a perfect circle.

"Om-"

This time, the bell really rang.

But the sound did not spread outward, but collapsed inward, like a drop of rain falling into the center of a lake, spreading out silently, but resonating in the hearts of every cat.

The mire outside the door suddenly quieted, as if drained of all its strength. In the center of the empty room, a deeper door slowly opened.

Behind the door is a stone staircase leading upwards, at the end of which hangs a bell.

It is not big, nor is it gorgeous, like an old clock forgotten by time.

There is a circle of tiny grooves around the mouth of the bell, like the rhythm of breathing.

The body of the clock is covered with tiny dents, like the memories left by countless taps.

"found it."

Mo Yun let out a breath.

They walked up to the clock, and every cat had it reflected in their eyes.

The shadow of the clock fell in their pupils, like a small but deep well.

"last step."

Mo Yun said,

"If you hit the bell in the air, the door will open. If you miss it by a breath, it won't open."

Bai Tang took a step forward, and the rosary in his palm felt slightly warm.

He closed his eyes and listened to the bell's echo within him. It wasn't a sound, but a rhythm, slower than a heartbeat and steadier than breathing.

He remembered Xiaoqing's words "don't worry" from inside the door, the sound like nails when Mo Yun grabbed his wrist, Wu Song's expression as he gritted his teeth and endured it in the mud, Dafei's breathing as he took root like an old tree, and the sound of the fan rib being half suppressed when Mo Zi pressed it.

"Now."

Bai Tang tapped lightly with her fingertips, and the rosary beads and the clock face trembled simultaneously. The tremor made no sound, but it felt like a slight twist in the world.

The air at the end of the stone steps seemed to be folded, and a door was pushed open silently.

Behind the door was the alley they came from, with the familiar wind and lights.

The wind blew in from the depths of the alley, carrying with it the sweet aroma of roasted chestnuts and the earthy smell of rain. The lamp swayed gently in the wind, its shadow swaying on the ground like water.

They filed out one after another, and the moment the last cat crossed the threshold, everything behind it - the clock, the room, the fog, the quagmire - seemed to be gently wiped away by someone and disappeared without a trace.

The alley was very quiet, so quiet that you could hear the echo of the bell in every cat's heart.

Wu Song couldn't help but grin, but he didn't say anything. He raised his hand and gave Mo Yun a thumbs-up.

Da Fei let out a long breath, and it felt like a mountain had been lifted off his shoulders. Mo Zi turned his head and glanced at Mo Yun, his eyes gleaming with a smile.

Bai Tang looked down at the rosary in his palm. It was no longer hot, but just lying there quietly.

He suddenly realized that the bell was not just somewhere, it was also in their hearts.

As long as they remember to leave a moment of "space" in the hustle and bustle, the door will open for them.

At the end of the alley, the wind was cooler and the lights were warmer. They looked at each other, saying nothing but both smiling.

That smile was very light and short, but it was like a gentle bell ringing, echoing in the night.

They walked back along the familiar alley.

The wind blew through the eaves, carrying the smell of oil, salt and osmanthus candy, pulling them back to the world little by little from the silent deep well.

The wind lifted a corner of the lantern on the street corner, and the flame flickered like a cat's breath.

Wu Song's boots made a slight sound on the stone slabs. He suddenly felt that this sound was very precious, so he deliberately slowed down his pace, letting it overlap with the rhythm of his companions, like a little song that could only be heard between them.

Dafei's stomach growled at an inopportune moment, and he scratched his head embarrassedly.

Mo Yun looked back at him, and the corners of her mouth curved slightly:

"Go back and eat first."

Bai Tang held the rosary in his palm. The rosary was no longer hot, but like a quiet pebble, reminding him that his heart could be so heavy.

He suddenly wanted to see Xiaoqing and make sure she was safe.

As soon as this thought came to mind, a familiar bell sound came from the corner of the alley.

"You are finally back."

Xiaoqing stood at the door of the inn carrying a medicine bag, her eyes and eyebrows like a lit lamp.

The shopkeeper welcomed them in, and the heat from the room hit them in the face.

Hot soup and white rice were quickly placed on the table, with a thin mist rising from the edges of the bowls. Dafei clasped his hands together, whispered "Eat!", and began to eat seriously.

Wu Songze picked up the bowl and took a sip of the soup. The hot soup flowed down his throat into his stomach, and the hard stone in his heart melted away.

After dinner, Mo Yun hung the water bag back on the wall and told everyone to rest early.

Bai Tang sat down by the window and saw the moonlight spread out on the table like a small piece of quiet silver.

He suddenly understood that the so-called "going back" was not just returning to a place, but also returning to each other, and returning to the rhythm where they could breathe peacefully.

Outside the window, the wind is still blowing and the lights are still swaying.

In the inn, the breathing of the five cats gradually became synchronized, like five invisible little bells, gently striking in the night, one after another, steady and firm.