A light rain had fallen in the middle of the night yesterday, merely wetting the surface of the ground. The moisture swept away the last remnants of the daytime heat. No one knew whether midsummer or the autumn tiger was fiercer, but the weather had been fickle. This rain had cleanly eradicated the lingering tails of their aftereffects.
When they got home that evening, the Cullinan opened to a comfortably cool cabin temperature for the human body. Chi Mo asked Li Ran, “Are you cold?”
Far from cold, Li Ran was still hot.
That word “Ranran,” which sounded perfectly natural coming from any elder but ambiguously intimate from Chi Mo, lingered in Li Ran’s ears like a wandering ghost blowing hot breath. It wasn’t a ghostly wind—it was a hot wind.
It wasn’t that he found it creepy, but Li Ran couldn’t quite identify the itchy, almost suffocating sensation lingering in his chest.
“Bro, why do you have to call me like that?”
He’d said it right in front of his dad, which was so embarrassing. If Chi Mo had asked why it was embarrassing in front of Li Ang, Li Ran definitely wouldn’t have had an answer.
“Like what? Ranran?” Chi Mo wore a string of Bodhi beads on his left wrist—not handmade by Li Ran. They dug tightly into his skin. “What’s wrong with calling you Ranran? I didn’t call you baby.”
Li Ran: “……”
What did Ranran have to do with baby?
He looked at the string of Bodhi beads.
Li Ran wasn’t great at crafts, but stringing beads required no skill at all—even a three-year-old could do it.
Once you’d done it the first time, the tenth came easily.
For a while, Li Ran had been darting around physical stores selling all kinds of beads, collecting Bodhi beads that caught his eye. He’d even boldly asked Chi Mo for his, planning to remake his strings.
At home, he’d fetch a small stool that Grandpa and Grandma often used, or just plop down on the wool rug, legs splayed as he sprawled over the coffee table. With a pile of Bodhi beads and string in front of him, it was chaos with a hint of order. He’d diligently thread them onto elastic cords matching their colors, far more seriously than when doing exam papers.
Chi Mo ended up with dozens of Bodhi strings.
Each one was slightly larger than his wrist.
This one was digging into his skin too—it was clearly one that had slipped through the net before. Li Ran planned to destroy the evidence. “I told you to give me all your Bodhi beads before. Why are you still hiding your ‘secret stash’?”
Chi Mo released the steering wheel with his right hand, touched his left, pushed up his dress shirt sleeve, slipped a knuckle under the beads, and pulled them off, handing them over to Li Ran like surrendering illicit gains. “Not on purpose. Here.”
Li Ran took them. “Hmph.”
He examined the quality of the beads carefully, then pocketed them.
He had elastic cord and beads at home—he could make two strings.
At home, with no one around, Black and White Impermanence had turned the place upside down. They slept all day and ran wild at night.
As soon as Li Ran pushed the door open, he caught Hei Ge letting out a meow and launching off a throw pillow with his powerful hind legs like a cannonball, slamming into the elegantly grooming White Cat. They rolled into a tangle.
The throw pillow slid off and hit the floor.
The White Cat was flung out of her nest. She tried to stand but got grabbed by the scruff and shaken with a couple of warning head tosses and mews. Hei Ge was fearless, clawing at her body with his front paws while kicking with his hind legs. His half-squinted eyes looked both blissful and cunning.
Chi Mo was unfazed. “He’s mounting his wife.”
Li Ran picked up the pillow from the floor, accustomed to it. “I know.”
They were both males anyway—they couldn’t really do anything.
Two minutes later, the White Cat unleashed a flurry of cat punches on Hei Ge that were just a blur of afterimages. She bolted away with her tail tucked. She’d accidentally hit his eye, and he stayed with one eye open and one shut for a full ten minutes. His round, solitary eye glared hostilely at Li Ran and Chi Mo, watching to see if they laughed.
Only when Cheng Ai Mei and Ye Ze were home did the two sometimes rein in their wild instincts and behave like proper pets for a bit.
The constantly traveling elders and the finally domesticated wild cats had both been wary at their first meeting.
When Cheng Ai Mei had first walked in and seen the black cat, she’d clutched her chest and yelped as if her old companion had turned into a cat. Hei Ge arched his back, scuttled sideways like a crab for a couple steps, and yowled for Li Ran to explain what was going on.
Li Ran explained to Grandpa and Grandma, then to Hei Ge and the White Cat.
Both sides eventually agreed to peaceful coexistence.
Since Cheng Ai Mei and Ye Ze were only home briefly each time, the cats weren’t very familiar with them. So when Grandpa and Grandma were around, the black cat saw them as threats, and while the White Cat slept, he stood guard. As soon as the “danger” left, he’d pester her to sleep.
With no survival threats, his wife was the most fun thing around.
When he took them to the pet hospital for baths, deworming, and checkups, the vet assessed their bone age: the black cat a bit over one year, the White Cat a bit over two—both in their youthful prime.
Hearing that Li Ran had fed them well for over half a year on the streets and was now bringing them home, the vet nodded approvingly. “What a good young man.”
Then he heard Li Ran fed the cats egg yolks daily—one wasn’t enough, so he gave two—and the vet’s face twisted. “Lucky you didn’t kill them. Kittens can’t eat too many egg yolks.”
Li Ran was shocked. “Ah?!”
He immediately looked guilty and terrified.
He didn’t feed them only egg yolks—eggs just appeared every day, making it seem like yolks were all they got. His good intentions had nearly caused disaster, scaring Li Ran so much he couldn’t even recall what else he usually fed Black and White Impermanence.
There were plenty of things—almost whatever he ate, the kittens ate too. Raising cats was a responsibility. He hadn’t dared bring them home rashly, so he hadn’t dared invest emotions either.
That very mindset of fearing he couldn’t take responsibility let him feed them daily but held him back from “loving” them. Li Ran hadn’t even searched what kittens shouldn’t eat in excess. He hung his head in self-reproach and gloom.
“Too many egg yolks are hard on kittens’ digestion and can raise cholesterol,” the vet said with a smile. Seeing Li Ran upset, he quickly reassured him. “But kittens aren’t dumb—they won’t eat if they don’t want to. Since they did, maybe they’re naturally tolerant of yolks. Plus, as strays, they were starving and not picky. Look—they’re a bit thin, but their coats are glossy and healthy. Nutrition’s kicking in. Just don’t feed like that anymore, and your Black and White Impermanence are perfectly healthy.”
Li Ran perked up then.
Finally, the vet asked about neutering.
Li Ran hesitated, thinking of the White Cat’s lone remaining egg.
The vet checked and said it wasn’t cryptorchidism—the single testicle was either from a fight injury without prompt treatment or human abuse by some jerk.
But it had fully recovered, no impact on health.
Li Ran discussed it with Chi Mo. One egg was pitiful enough—they skipped neutering the White Cat.
Hei Ge, a longtime stray with suspicions of human schemes, went on high alert at the vet hospital, knocking things over, leaping everywhere—nearly impossible to restrain. The vet panicked, pounding his chest. “Get your cat out of here!”
He yelled vengefully, “Intact toms spray everywhere! Even if he has a wife to mount, who knows if he sprays! Watch him closely! If he does, knock him out and bring him! I’ll neuter him! Knock him out—must knock him out!”
Hei Ge’s whiskers quivered in rage as he spun like Thomas the Tank Engine, launching himself like a black cannonball. If the vet hadn’t dodged, he’d have exploded a hole in his gut.
“No spraying, no spraying…” Li Ran soothed the cat frantically, then gloved up, grabbed Hei Ge’s scruff fiercely, stuffed him in the carrier, and bolted.
If spraying happened, they’d bring him back… knocked out!
So in the end, no neutering.
Both toms anyway—no kittens coming.
……
“See, got beat again, huh.” Li Ran stifled a laugh, eyeing Hei Ge’s comical one-eyed squint.
The black cat lounged by the White Cat, the punched eye a bit teary, his glossy tail swishing lazily.
It often accidentally brushed her.
The White Cat ignored him.
Dusk settled, wind rising outside like last night—maybe rain by midnight.
The living room was warm as spring.
Li Ran went upstairs for his beading tools, wedged his body between the sofa and coffee table, and settled comfortably on the cashmere rug, legs sprawled under the table.
Chi Mo asked what Li Ran wanted to eat—the auntie had something come up and wasn’t there.
He scrolled his phone; delivery options dazzled the eyes.
Before, if the auntie was out and Grandpa and Grandma weren’t home, Chi Mo alone would just open his phone and order whatever was first on the list—no fussing.
Whatever heaven provided.
But now, after twenty years without tenderness suddenly bursting forth, it overflowed everywhere, eager to drown Li Ran head to toe in care.
Li Ran kept working with his hands. “I’ll cook later—delivery’s unhealthy. My cooking’s way better than delivery. You wash dishes after, Bro.”
“Okay.” Chi Mo immediately set his phone down, sat beside Li Ran on the floor—no, he sat on the sofa, gazing down at him.
One on the rug, one on the sofa—Li Ran looked like he was snuggling tightly against Chi Mo’s leg.
Neither spoke; no words were needed.
Perhaps the quietly flowing ambiance stirred some faint, intangible urge to confide.
Li Ran said, “My name—my dad picked it. From ‘Know that it is so, but not why it is so.’ Sounds ordinary alone, but with the quote, it’s kinda philosophical, right? I don’t know what it means. I asked Dad—he doesn’t either. Says he’s still looking for the answer.”
