Pure black fur, brilliant golden eyes, with only a faint patch of white on his belly. Fast as a hare in motion, still as a piglet at rest. Anywhere in the palace that a small black whirlwind went streaking past, that whirlwind was inevitably this cat.
After all, apart from Rendong, there were hardly any other little pets in the Inner Palace these days.
That day, the cat was chasing butterflies in the Imperial Garden.
Rendong tumbled carelessly into the grass and rolled until he was covered in clippings. Wriggling like a snake, he slithered flat against the ground to the edge, and then a little cat head suddenly popped up.
Ha!
Little Cat, strike!
Ever since the Late Emperor cleared all pets out of the Inner Palace, the Dowager Consorts kept nothing more than the occasional songbird. There was no rival of his own kind left to contest Rendong’s territory.
Every day, Rendong would go out on patrol, marking the entire Imperial Palace as his own domain.
But as time went on, stray cats would always sneak in from outside the palace walls. Nimble and quick, they could scale walls and leap through trees, evading the patrolling Imperial Guards.
Still, there were exceptions.
Sometimes, Rendong would run into them.
Compared to Rendong’s petite frame, those big cats who had roamed the streets for years were positively brawny, and the sight of their bulging muscles made Rendong’s mouth water.
What should have been a life-or-death battle against intruders instead became something rather strange: Rendong gazed down from on high at the strays’ muscles, and the invading big cats found the whole encounter chilling to the bone.
They could, of course, smell that this territory was claimed.
But when a cat was starving half to death, trespassing on another cat’s turf was hardly unheard of.
In the world of feral cats, the Imperial Palace symbolized danger, yet when there was no other choice, it was also a place where a desperate cat might gamble for food.
Besides, judging by the scent, the owner of this territory was not all that formidable.
“Mrrrow!”
The lead stray cat let out a low growl.
It was the opening of a battle, or perhaps a warning.
“Mew mew~ Would you like to come eat? My treat.”
Rendong tilted his head, paws shifting back and forth.
“…Row↑wu↓?”
The Stray Cat Boss eyed Rendong suspiciously, as if looking at a little fool.
He knew this kind of little fool.
Kept by humans for too long, a cat would lose all wariness and wildness, turning into a soft, squishy little bun.
“The kitchen made extra tasty meat today.” At the thought of delicious food, Rendong couldn’t help licking his lips, slurp slurp. Unable to resist, he spun around and raised his tail.
Rendong led the way with one cat at the front, followed by a few strays only half convinced.
In the end, they all ate their fill at the Imperial Cat Bureau, thoroughly satisfied.
The strays let down half of their guard, but they still wouldn’t come near Rendong. The Boss simply settled with his band of little brothers under a tree, some squatting, some sprawled out, washing their faces.
“Would you like to stay?”
Rendong’s casual remark made the Stray Cat Boss’s fur bristle. He stared at the little cat warily for a long moment, then let out a long, low yowl: no way!
“Row, row, row!”
The Boss, unable to speak human speech, yowled several times over, the gist of it being that Rendong’s human was terrifying.
The little cat’s eyes went wide. Mew mew.
“Humans aren’t… that… bad…”
The more Rendong said it, the less convinced he sounded.
“Ha, ha, ha!”
The Stray Cat Boss suddenly hissed, then yowled once more, spun around, and bolted off with his little brothers hot on his heels.
Rendong let out an “Eh?” and only belatedly registered the sound of footsteps.
Perched on the wall, the little cat looked down and met a pair of pitch-black eyes.
Good heavens. The Stray Cat Boss’s ears really were sharp. He’d heard the human coming even before Rendong had.
“Making new friends, Rendong?”
Standing by the wall, Tantai Tian opened his arms naturally.
Rendong flexed his paw pads, hesitated a moment, and then flung himself into the human’s embrace.
“We only just met.
“And, Human, don’t you have work to do?”
Why was he out catching cats in broad daylight, in the middle of the workday!
The human didn’t answer the cat’s question, since humans couldn’t understand little-cat language, Rendong figured.
He lay back in Tantai Tian’s arms, hugging his own fluffy tail with his front paws, licking diligently until every ruffled strand of fur lay smooth again.
The human’s gait was steady. So steady the cat nearly fell asleep.
Then a stinky smell reached his nose, and the cat wrinkled his little furry face, cracking one eye open.
Oh no, oh no. So many books.
Books that would eat cats.
Rendong was a little afraid of books now.
Who knew if it was because the cat had once urged the human to read out his name and the human had since developed an obsession with teaching, but whenever he had a spare moment, he would grab Rendong for lessons.
Grabbing cats to make them study!
What a hateful thing to do. What a hateful human.
The cat couldn’t read fat, squiggly characters at all.
That said, Tantai Tian didn’t start with anything too difficult. He had at least brought out beginner primers.
But primers were still full of fat, squiggly characters, weren’t they!
So many of them swam before Rendong’s eyes, making his paws itch.
The longer he watched, the more he wanted to swat them.
No telling how many books the cat had shredded already, and yet next time, the human would bring a new one.
Escape: failed.
Rendong liked lying on the back of the human’s hand while Tantai Tian read aloud.
If he read something a few times and the cat showed no reaction, the human would grow bold enough to poke the cat’s bottom.
How dare he!
Was a little cat’s bottom something you could just go around poking?
Rendong whipped his head around and hissed.
Very fierce.
The human stopped poking.
The human patted.
A light touch, impossible to tell whether it was a pat or a rub.
Rendong reluctantly accepted it with a “mew.”
“Copying a book once is worth reading it ten times. What a pity…” Tantai Tian said unhurriedly, a trace of laughter in his voice, “that Rendong has only paws and no hands. Otherwise, you really ought to copy it a few more times.”
The cat quietly tucked his front paws beneath his fluff.
There. No hands anymore. Rendong had no hands.
Rendong would not be copying any books.
Cats who often, strike that, occasionally disliked studying would hide from the human and come play in the garden, yet after only a few pounces at the wild grass, the human would catch them again.
Was the human secretly surveilling the little cat?
The cat with the surveillance camera was supposed to be Rendong!
Though Rendong’s camera could only move around to scout, and it came with a built-in privacy-blurring service. They called it Minor-Kitten Mode.
Rendong: “This cat is very old.”
By cat standards, Rendong was quite elderly.
[You are currently a kitten.]
Rendong huffed and sat his tail down firmly on his own bottom.
Discrimination against cats.
Still, having the camera, the cat deeply believed this was an excellent way to keep a human.
No wonder humans always used to install cameras to watch their cats at home. So it was so they could soak up their cats anytime, anywhere.
Now the cat could soak up his human anytime, anywhere.
Whether through the camera or in person… and as he soaked, the cat drifted off.
Listening to the sound of Tantai Tian reading, Rendong soon melted into a puddle, sprawled atop the back of the human’s hand, fast asleep. In his dreams he occasionally licked his nose, and once, carelessly, he licked the finger beside him, chewing on it twice for good measure.
A lick was a lick. No favoritism.
Cats really were creatures who could fall asleep anytime, anywhere.
When Yu Zeming entered and saw the cat dozing, he lowered his voice. “Your Majesty, the Imperial Physician is waiting outside.”
Only after the Emperor nodded did he call the man in.
Having caught Yu Zeming’s hint, Ji Jia also spoke in soft, gentle tones when he entered.
It was nothing more than a routine pulse reading, and before long, he withdrew from the hall.
The spring chill was still sharp. As the cold wind brushed past, Ji Jia shivered inexplicably.
A belated wave of cold crept up his spine.
Just before he left, Emperor Taichu had suddenly asked him.
“What do you make of Rendong?”
Ji Jia had frozen for a beat, studying the black cat closely. Its coat was sleek and glossy, its little belly exposed, one front paw draped over the Emperor’s arm as if hugging it in sleep. That fluffy belly seemed to hold some bewitching power, stirring an urge to bury oneself in it and roll around.
Ji Jia only said that His Majesty was raising the cat very well.
The food delivered daily from the Imperial Cat Bureau was meticulous and abundant, stuffing the greedy little cat’s belly round. The cat had gradually shed its tender, kittenish look, growing from a kitten into… a not-so-small cat.
And yet beside His Majesty, it still looked pitifully small.
“At times,” Emperor Taichu said coldly, as if discussing a matter that had nothing to do with himself, “I hear Rendong’s voice.”
Ji Jia instinctively held his breath.
“But Rendong is a cat. How could a cat open its mouth and speak?” His Majesty spoke as though to himself, then smiled strangely, unmasked malice flowing freely across that handsome face. “…How very interesting.”
It was as if witnessing just how far his own madness had gone brought the Emperor some twisted pleasure.
Ji Jia shuddered.
A nameless dread settled into a stone, sinking heavily into his stomach.
The medicine His Majesty took year-round came from Shanwai Temple, and with those medicinal pills to suppress it, the Emperor was able to live a normal life. But Ji Jia knew that recently, His Majesty’s dosage had been growing larger and larger.
When one could no longer quite tell reality from illusion… the Emperor’s madness had worsened yet again.
