The kitten was black all over, save for its four white paws. It sidled up to Fan Dazhi's feet, gently swishing its short tail, its deep blue eyes fixed longingly on the little fish dangling from his hand as it gave soft cries of "Mew, mew."
Fan Dazhi looked down at the filthy kitten. Some of its fur had matted into ugly clumps, but its blue eyes shone like stars, exceptionally beautiful.
Who knew how many days the poor little thing had gone without food? Fan Dazhi's heart softened, and he tossed a small fish onto the ground.
The kitten wolfed it down, then raised its head and meowed again and again.
Fan Dazhi tossed it two more. The little creature quickly finished them, climbed onto his foot, and happily hugged his ankle, crying, "Mew, mew."
Fan Dazhi could not help chuckling at its adorably goofy appearance. Then he looked at the one fish left in his hand and said helplessly, "This is the only fish I have left. I was planning to use it to lure out those bigger cats. If I give you everything, I won't be able to get my work done. Go find food somewhere else. Be good and listen!"
As though it understood him, the kitten meowed, climbed off his foot, and darted to the mouth of the alley, vanishing in an instant.
"Oh! This little thing can really run!"
Fan Dazhi looked at his last fish, feeling rather troubled. There were certainly other cats nearby, but most of the residents were powerful nobles, with imposing entrances and guards on watch. It would be difficult to make his move here. Perhaps he should look somewhere else?
While he stood with his head lowered in thought, rustling came from the mouth of the alley. He looked up, and his jaw dropped in astonishment. He could hardly believe his eyes.
A whole crowd of cats poured into the alley: black cats, white cats, tabbies, Persians, even butterfly cats that looked like little tigers and snow-white "whip striking the embroidered ball" cats with long tails.
Little Black Cat ran happily up to Fan Dazhi and sat down. The other cats followed behind in perfect order, without making a sound.
"Mrr... meow..."
Little Black Cat called to Fan Dazhi as though asking for credit. Only then did Fan Dazhi come to his senses and hastily toss it the last fish.
Little Black Cat lowered its head and happily enjoyed the delicacy.
Fan Dazhi took the little scissors from inside his robe, crouched down, and tentatively reached out to trim Big White Cat's whiskers.
The little scissors gleamed silver in the sunlight, looking exceedingly sharp. Terror appeared in Big White Cat's eyes. It bared a mouthful of pointed teeth and let out a defiant growl that nearly frightened Fan Dazhi into falling on his backside.
Suddenly, a low, thunderous growl rang out.
Little Black Cat lifted its head from its fish and growled at the crowd of cats.
Big White Cat shuddered and obediently crouched on the ground, trembling all over, apparently terrified of it. The other cats shook like chaff in a sieve, equally frightened.
Fan Dazhi watched in amazement. Could this be the legendary suppression of bloodlines? With no time to think further, he raised the scissors and tentatively tried trimming Big White Cat's whiskers again.
This time, Big White Cat dared not move at all, allowing Fan Dazhi to cut off its whiskers.
Fan Dazhi repeated the process, trimming the whiskers of every cat. Perhaps the scene before him was simply too extraordinary; he could hardly contain his excitement, and the hand holding the scissors trembled a little. Inevitably, he slipped and nicked some of their cheeks. Those cats bared their teeth in pain, yet not one dared make a sound.
"Mission accomplished!"
Fan Dazhi let out a long breath, tucked the scissors and gathered whiskers inside his robe, then bent down to stroke Little Black Cat's head. "Thank you, little darling. I have to hurry off!"
Little Black Cat stuck out its pink tongue and licked Fan Dazhi's palm, then suddenly leaped into his hand. Turning its head, it gave a "Mew." As though granted a pardon, the cats crouching on the ground rose and turned to leave the alley. In moments, every last one was gone.
"They've all left. You should go too. Goodbye, little darling!"
Fan Dazhi gently set Little Black Cat on the ground and started to leave. The moment he lifted his foot, the kitten jumped onto it and clung tightly to his ankle, like a child seeking affection-or begging him to take it along.
Fan Dazhi bent down and stroked it. Seeing how small, filthy, and pitiful it was, he could not help feeling sorry for it. Had he not seen such an intelligent cat with his own eyes, he would never have believed it.
Little Black Cat cried, "Mew, mew," hugged Fan Dazhi's arm with both paws, and leaped into his palm again. Seeing that it was getting late, Fan Dazhi simply cradled it in his arms and strode out of the alley.
He An paced near the Precious Ink Pavilion, his eyes repeatedly sweeping over the people in the street as he anxiously touched the piece of bamboo in his sleeve.
When that familiar figure finally appeared, He An went forward to meet him in delight.
"Xiao An! Have you got everything ready?"
Fan Dazhi hurried over, panting, with a little black cat in his arms.
"Why did you pick up a cat too?"
He An took the bamboo branch from his sleeve. Fan Dazhi accepted it rather dazedly, examining the ink bamboo while recounting the strange events that had just occurred.
"This... this bamboo is truly rare. The material is first-rate-absolutely superb! Where did you get it?"
Fan Dazhi stroked the piece of ink bamboo in his hand, clicking his tongue in wonder, utterly ignoring Little Black Cat as it scrambled onto his shoulder.
After He An described how he had returned to the Knowledge and Practice Institute, met Lu Zhengqing, and found this bamboo by following his directions, the two brothers could not help marveling at the strangeness of the day's encounters and the wonders of fortune.
As they spoke, the kitten on Fan Dazhi's shoulder gave a light spring and jumped onto He An's shoulder.
While He An stood momentarily taken aback, the kitten crawled along his arm, hooked both little paws around his wrist, and poked its head into his sleeve.
"Who would have thought this little fellow was so mischievous!"
Laughing, He An picked up the kitten. No sooner had he placed it on the ground than it sprang up, clung to his waistband, climbed onto his arm, and tried to burrow into his sleeve again.
"Is there something in your sleeve attracting it?"
Fan Dazhi caught the kitten and held it in his arms as he prompted He An.
He An emptied his sleeve pocket. There was a small piece of silver, two copper coins, and nothing else except a few bamboo leaves wrapped in a handkerchief.
"Mew, mew..."
Little Black Cat cried urgently, its bright blue eyes fixed on the ink-dark bamboo leaves in the handkerchief as it twisted and struggled in Fan Dazhi's arms.
Curious, He An picked up a bamboo leaf and held it before the kitten's nose.
With a "Mew," Little Black Cat eagerly gulped it into its mouth and actually ate it with relish.
Amused, Fan Dazhi took another bamboo leaf, which the kitten finished in a few bites.
"What an interesting cat. It actually eats bamboo leaves!"
Fan Dazhi fed it another leaf. After finishing, the little creature looked around, leaped to the ground, and actually ran to a corner of the wall to urinate. It shook out its fur, dashed back, and stood at Fan Dazhi's feet, raising both little paws and standing upright like a tiny person asking to be held.
Seeing He An's astonished expression, Fan Dazhi burst out laughing and bent down to gather the cat into his arms. The little creature stretched, curled up, and fell fast asleep in his embrace.
Fan Dazhi and He An entered the Precious Ink Pavilion. There were few customers inside, and a man who looked like a shop assistant was showing inkstones to a middle-aged couple.
The shelves held all manner of brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones-the four treasures of the study-as well as paperweights, brush rests, brush pots, incense burners, bells, chime stones, and other objects in various shapes. A faint fragrance of ink lingered in the air.
Seeing He An and Fan Dazhi enter, a man seated at a table, bent over cutting paper with a knife, glanced up. He recognized the two paupers who had visited that morning but could not afford anything. A trace of disdain crossed his face. He raised his rather fierce eyebrows, then lowered his head and ignored them.
The shopkeeper, dressed in a silk robe and sporting a goatee, came forward. He regarded the two young men and their cat with his customary faint smile.
He An explained why they had come: they wished to borrow the shop's tools to make a writing brush.
The shopkeeper's brows furrowed slightly, but upon hearing that they were students of the Knowledge and Practice Institute, his brow smoothed. His face filled with smiles, and he readily agreed.
What sort of place was the Knowledge and Practice Institute? It held the leading place in education throughout the Great Chen Empire, a place countless scholars yearned for. Its students were dragons and phoenixes among men.
Though the youth before him wore ordinary clothes, he was handsome and spirited, with an extraordinary bearing in every movement. Not daring to slight them, the shopkeeper invited the pair into a side room behind the shelves. He turned to the man cutting paper and said, "You clueless fool, hurry up and bring tea for these two young gentlemen!"
The side room was small and piled high with paper, inkstones, brushes, ink, and other goods. In the remaining space stood two tables with chairs. On the tables were two unopened bundles of bamboo brush shafts and brush tips, along with knives, scissors, shears, thread, glue, and every other tool they might need.
Placing the sleeping kitten in He An's arms, Fan Dazhi rolled up his sleeves. He took the collected cat and dog whiskers from inside his robe, put them into a bowl filled with alkaline water to remove the grease and sort them, then mixed them together in the proper proportions.
His plump hand was remarkably nimble. He gathered the tangled whiskers together, combed them into a fine, orderly bundle with a small comb, then slowly trimmed them to the right shape with the little scissors and began applying glue.
Watching from the doorway, the shopkeeper secretly marveled. This chubby youngster looked unremarkable, but his timing was excellent. Every stage flowed smoothly into the next, largely compensating for the slight inexperience in his technique.
Brushmaking was delicate work that put hand-eye coordination to a stern test. The chubby youngster handled every critical point just right. Even compared with the veteran craftsmen who had worked in the shop for decades, he hardly fell short.
Students of the Knowledge and Practice Institute truly are extraordinary. This little fellow might become a master craftsman someday!
The shopkeeper watched sidelong, stroking his goatee and marveling to himself. The paper-cutting man brought two cups of tea, walked straight into the side room, and placed them on the table. He An and Fan Dazhi hurriedly thanked him.
The man slipped out of the side room, curled his lip, and whispered to the shopkeeper standing at the door, "Uncle... they're just two paupers. Why go to such lengths..."
"You don't know a damn thing! Get lost!"
The shopkeeper glared at him, cutting him off with an impatient, low rebuke. Once the irritating man had left, he looked back into the room and was immediately startled.
The chubby youngster had already finished the brush tip and glued it onto a jet-black bamboo branch. The branch gleamed with a purple sheen; one glance revealed that it was anything but ordinary. A brush made from such rare bamboo would certainly be worth a fortune-and even with money, one could not necessarily buy it.
Before you continue