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In the afternoon, Song You was washing clothes in the inn's backyard, where a small amount of foam was lathered in the wooden basin.
The calico cat sat in front of him, observing attentively. Glancing behind to ensure no one was around, the cat whispered, “You don’t need to buy me meat these days. There are mice here; I’ll catch them at night and eat them.”
Without looking up, Song You continued washing and asked, “Do you like to eat mice or fish better?”
“Fish are in the water, so I can’t catch them.”
“Then what about mice compared to bought meat?”
“Bought meat costs money.”
“Which one tastes better?”
“I don’t know.” The cat raised and licked its paw as it said, “But it doesn’t matter if I don’t eat other meat, I need to eat mice and will crave for it if I don’t. Bought meat costs money, so we should save where we can.”
“…” Song You found this amusing. For the cat, it seemed that mice were a staple food—even if it wasn’t the best, it was necessary.
The calico cat kept her eyes fixed on him. Seeing that he had finished washing his long robe and started on her smaller clothes, she blinked and stared at him as she quietly...
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