The Cat’s Morning Patrol

The cat resided in a small town, neither particularly developed nor isolated.

She had arrived here when she was very young, and in this place, she was truly the most extraordinary cat.

Indeed, every patch of land, every doorway, every brick paving stone—all were her dominion.

She could recline and rest wherever and whenever she pleased, or rise to patrol her territory at any given moment, simply because she wished to.

“Xiao Bai, out for a stroll?” an old man, already up early to buy groceries, called out.

He smiled as he greeted a large, creamy-white cat with long, thick fur and three black stripes on her head, ambling leisurely along the roadside.

Though addressed as Xiao Bai, her size was anything but small.

“Mrow~”

The cat’s ears twitched.

She turned her head to look at the old man, a soft rumble escaping her throat in response.

The man’s stooped form was reflected in her slightly blue-black eyes.

Having offered his greeting, the old man continued his unhurried walk towards the market, hands clasped behind his back.

The cat paused, tilting her head as she watched him gradually disappear into the distance, pondering something unfathomable.

In short order, the cat, with her delightfully muddled little brain, arrived at a conclusion.

She twitched her ears, her fluffy tail giving a slight upward curl, and swiftly trotted after the old man.

“Mrow!”

Pattering her paws with high frequency, the cat caught up to the old man, emitting a sound akin to a spoiled child’s plea.

The old man glanced back at the large cat, which was nearly as tall as his knees, and chuckled before continuing towards the bustling market.

The morning air was cool, even for summer, carrying a slight chill that elders, in particular, felt acutely.

However, the diligent morning sun of July cast a compensating warmth, turning the cool temperatures into a miraculous comfort rather than oppressive heat.

Thus, the cat ambled along behind the old man, slowly making her way to their destination.

They soon left behind the orderly blue-walled apartment complexes of the small town center, which had been ‘urban planned’ into existence.

Here, the architecture became a vibrant tapestry of variety.

There were bustling, low-slung breakfast stalls already alive with activity, towering restaurants still steeped in slumber, gleaming new billboards, and an ancient clock shop whose signboard was so old it had developed a rich patina.

Two adjacent streets showcased a stark contrast between old and new, forming a peculiar spectacle.

Despite traversing this route almost every other day, the cat still walked a few steps, then paused, filled with curiosity.

She would look around, occasionally craning her head to gaze at the sky, as if she had never set paw here before.

After passing two more streets, they finally arrived at a cluster of tin sheds on the edge of a wholesale market—their destination.

By a little past six, this place was already teeming with life.

The cat showed no alarm at the noisy crowds or dense throngs of people.

Instead, she stayed close to the old man’s legs, her gaze sweeping over the fruits and vegetables.

Even the ‘demanding’ customers, meticulously selecting their produce, noticed the fluffy white form.

She was quite striking, after all.

Most merely glanced, but some familiar faces offered the cat a greeting.

The cat responded by sweeping her large, upright tail back and forth.

Regardless, anyone who saw the cat invariably found their spirits lifted.

“Look, these green onion leaves are so big, half of them will be wasted when I trim them. Can you knock off two mao?”

“Ah, these green onions are already cheap enough! For Da Bai’s sake, if you buy an extra jin, I’ll even throw in two more stalks for you.”

The transaction was smoothly concluded.

The cat, following her grandpa, turned to look at the vendor, not entirely sure if “Da Bai” was referring to herself.

The vendor smiled at her from his chair, muttering to himself, ‘I should have brought a sausage today.’

The cat paid no mind to missing out on a sausage.

She followed her grandpa, and soon, all the necessary groceries were purchased.

They began their return journey towards the entrance.

In this small town, the market had a single entry and exit point, and the crowds, though lively, were never truly congested.

The cat soon reached the entrance.

Her leisurely meandering suddenly halted, her scanning eyes drawn to one of the few shops nearby: a fish stall.

The cat darted forward, covering the distance in two quick bounds.

She walked directly to a large basin displayed in front of the shop and peered inside.

Small crucian carp thrashed about in the crowded water, their tails slapping against their kin with every flick.

The cat’s gaze immediately settled on a unique fish, floating belly-up.

It was dead, for reasons unknown—most likely due to lack of oxygen.

The shop owner was lying on a chair nearby and quickly noticed Xiao Bai.

The cat looked up at the owner, tilted her head to the left, then lowered her gaze back to the motionless dead fish.

Her fluffy head rotated, tilting to the right, and her ears twitched, a look of intense concentration on her face.

Just then, the old grandpa caught up and also peered into the basin.

The shop owner evidently understood the cat’s silent message, noticing the upside-down fish.

The owner, in his early thirties, scratched his head and began, “Old Man Zhao, this cat really is…”

He shook his head, leaving the sentence unfinished.

He scooped out the dead fish, not bothering to weigh it, and placed it directly in front of the cat.

The old grandpa let out a hearty laugh.

“She knew from a mile away that she’d have a treat today! Next time you come to my shop, I’ll give you a discount.”

The fishmonger waved a dismissive hand, saying nothing more.

The cat, gripping the fish in her mouth, walked over to her grandpa.

The grandpa tucked the fish into a plastic bag, ready to head home with the cat.

However, the cat turned back towards the fish shop owner, extending a paw like a mangosteen and patting the man.

The owner looked utterly bewildered, then gave a sharp jolt.

Seeing the cat about to leave with her grandpa, he let out a sigh of relief.

Watching the old man’s stooped figure depart, the fish shop owner hesitated, his eyes flickering repeatedly.

Finally, he called out, “Old Zhao, if you’re not feeling well these past few days, how about I go with you for a check-up at the hospital?”

The old grandpa waved his hand in dismissal.

“I’m perfectly fine!”

The fishmonger sighed, saying nothing more.

Hands clasped behind his back, groceries in hand, Old Zhao continued his leisurely stroll back.

The cat would walk quickly for a stretch, then stop to meticulously observe the flashing or peeling shop signs.

Once Old Zhao caught up, she would quicken her pace again, then curiously examine newly sprouted flowers and plants by the roadside, always maintaining a certain proximity to Old Zhao.

Passing the same intersection once more, the cat continued to look left and right, following the old man.

They crossed the intersection, turned into a small alley, and arrived at a small brick house with four crimson characters boldly proclaiming “5 Yuan Haircut.”

The old man unhurriedly unlocked the door, while the cat patiently squatted behind him.

Entering the small house, they passed through the back door, revealing a suddenly expansive view: a small courtyard with chickens, a dog, fruit trees, and hydrangeas, alongside a beautiful, clean residential building.

The cat was very familiar with this place.

The large cat, so fond of patrolling the streets daily, often took short rests here—though, of course, not through the front door.

The surrounding walls weren’t high, after all.

Bai steadily approached the dog curled up in the corner of the stairs, an old black-backed German Shepherd.

She extended her head to sniff the dog’s dark muzzle, gently touching noses—a form of greeting.

Good, the scent hadn’t changed; the dog was still the same, quite healthy.

The German Shepherd lifted its droopy eyelids, indifferent to the cat’s actions, merely wagging its tail in a rather perfunctory manner.

One could also say it was simply very calm.

Bai didn’t mind.

She turned and climbed the magnolia tree in the corner of the courtyard, settling on the sturdiest branch to watch the old man prepare the various ingredients he had just bought.

Fortunately, this magnolia tree was old enough, otherwise, it might not have withstood Bai’s considerable weight.

The fish was simply gutted and rinsed, then placed in a pan to fry.

After flipping it a few times, water was added.

The old man mixed a bowl of batter for himself and started another pan to make egg pancakes.

The fish was small, so not much water was added.

Once the pancakes were done, he poured out the soy milk that had been prepared in the soy milk maker before leaving.

The fish soup was almost ready.

He poured it into the cat’s special food bowl, and everything was prepared.

Bai, watching from her perch on the branch, knew it was time to eat.

Without needing a reminder, she gracefully leaped down from the branch.

Her sturdy body landed on the blue bricks, the impact causing the cat to deflate slightly, letting out an involuntary “Mrow.”

Quiet serenity was the prevailing theme of this aging neighborhood.