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Lady Calico had indeed set out before dawn.
The main reason?
Sleeping next to the Daoist last night had been far too comfortable. The salty-sweet sea breeze, the rhythmic crashing of the waves—combined with the Daoist’s soothing voice, which lingered in her mind—had woven a dreamscape so beautiful that she could hardly resist.
She had dreamt of the shoreline teeming with fish.
Even the smallest ones were as wide as her paw pads and as long as a cat’s tail. They swam back and forth in the shallow waters, darting playfully through the waves. She had waded into the water, paws splashing as she reached out—every grab yielded a fish, another, and another, an endless bounty.
Even the Daoist had been stunned, showering her with praise, calling her incredible over and over again.
There were so many fish—far too many to finish.
With such an excess, Lady Calico had no choice but to dry them on the small boat she had just bought with a great sum of money, turning them into fish jerky. A rough estimate told her that there was enough to last half a month—even the Daoist would eat it.
The bad news? Just as she had laid the fish out to dry, the dream ended.
The good news? She woke up by the seaside.
How could she possibly go back to sl...
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