Eight-tailed cat (2): Sweep out

Tan Xiao only had a 20-spirit-coin bill on him. The convenience store was having a late-night discount on oden: vegetarian skewers were 1 coin each, meat skewers were 2–3 coins for three, and if you spent 20 coins, you got two extra skewers for free.

He spent all 20, mostly on the cheaper vegetarian ones. For the meat, he picked only the 2-coin skewers. As for the free ones, he chose a “lucky bag” and a “polar wing”—the priciest options. The clerk even threw in two extra daikon radish skewers worth 1 coin each.

“You sure know how to eat,” the clerk said.

There were four free skewers in total. The little black cat didn’t go for the radish—it precisely snatched up the skewer with the lucky bag.

Although nearly twenty oden skewers were stuffed into a single bag, and they all smelled similar unless you took them out and sniffed closely.

In the dead of night, Tan Xiao had first dealt with a shady debt collection company, and now a little cat had ambushed him for food. He was feeling quite helpless.

But the little cat was different from the fierce bald debt collector—Tan Xiao couldn’t exactly send this feline bandit to the police station.

He raised the food bag high above his head, avoiding any contamination from the cat’s claws.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like cats. It’s just that this one looked gaunt and bony, clearly a stray for a long time. Its claws must be full of bacteria, and it probably had fleas too.

His head was still injured, and now he was poor—he couldn’t afford to fall ill on top of everything else. If he got food poisoning, he couldn’t even afford to see a doctor.

The little cat seemed absolutely starving—it gobbled down the palm-sized lucky bag in just a few bites. The tofu skin of the bag was torn by its sharp teeth, revealing the snow-white fish inside. Maybe it was the scent of the fish that had attracted the starving feline.

Tan Xiao hesitated for a moment, then pulled out a polar wing skewer from the bag. Made of fish meat and starch, it was far better than plain radish or potato. The broth used to cook it was even said to contain chicken.

Cats were carnivores, after all, but for stray cats trying to survive outside, any food was already a blessing.

“You eat slowly, I’ve got to go.”

He laid a piece of paper on the ground, gently pulled out the bamboo skewer, and laid three polar wings neatly on the oiled paper. After all, the sharp end of the stick might injure the cat’s mouth.

Though the cat had a knack for picking the expensive stuff, it didn’t seem like some dumb kitten.

It was already very late. After being delayed at the police station, Tan Xiao needed to hurry home.

He strode off quickly with the bag full of food. Behind him, the black cat glanced at his back before continuing to eat the fragrant food in front of it.

The aroma attracted other stray cats lurking in the alley. From all corners, green-eyed cat heads began to appear.

Leading them was a black-and-white, muscular, and fierce-looking cow-patterned cat. In this chaotic alley full of rats, it had grown strong feeding on them.

As the local cat boss, the delicious food left by humans should naturally belong to it.

“Meoooww! (Get off my turf!)”

The cow cat let out a fierce howl, warning and threatening the thin black stray.

If the intruder didn’t back off, it would attack with sharp claws and teeth.

But the scrawny black cat quickly finished the rest of the polar wings in a few bites. It licked its fur with slow, elegant movements.

It had no intention of fighting the other cats. Under the moonlight, a giant black shadow rose behind the little cat—one with eight tails.

“A monster! A terrifying monster!”

Animals are more sensitive than humans. This skinny stray cat wasn’t some poor thing at all—it was a terrifying creature from who-knows-where.

The group of wild cats, led by the cow cat, collapsed to the ground. Even the fierce guard dogs in nearby homes crouched low and trembled, sensing the monstrous aura.

No human noticed anything unusual. The massive shadow in the air looked like it could just be a tree or a building’s silhouette.

When the shadow faded, the black cat swaggered away from the group of strays.

It was a cat. As long as it wasn’t attacked, it wouldn’t harm other cats. But unlike the cow cat, it had no interest in managing a pack. After all, it wasn’t an ordinary cat—it was a legendary creature: an eight-tailed cat demon.

The cat demon only remembered its name, nothing much of its past. Every time it lost a tail, it was like losing a life.

The eight-tailer had just lost a tail and came back from death. Now, it had sensed its fated companion.

By the time it finished eating, Tan Xiao had made it safely back home.

As he climbed the stairs, a couple in the hallway was still arguing. This slum was very different from the upscale duplex he used to live in. That place was always quiet, especially at night, with young and strong security guards patrolling the area.

In the slum, of course, there was no such thing. Trash bins overflowed and stank, hallways were plastered with ads for emergency locksmiths and plumbing, and fights often broke out in the middle of the night. Sometimes you’d hear dogs and cats too.

Springtime was especially awful—with those long, sharp, mating cat cries that sounded like a child crying in a horror story.

Even without cats and dogs, a newborn’s wailing was just as piercing.

Tan Xiao was surprised by how quickly he adapted. From such a good environment to this horrible one—he should’ve been miserable, angry, and irritable. But he adjusted quickly.

After all, he had just finished his college entrance exams and likely did well.

Normally, he’d be expected to find a job. But that would be shortsighted. With no degree, he couldn’t earn much.

As for not having money for college—he could apply for loans and earn his living expenses himself.

Tan Xiao was calm. Part of the debt from his father’s guarantee had fallen on them. It had to be repaid. The weight of it felt like chains.

He could’ve run away with his mother to another city, but deep inside, he had one conviction: “I want to earn back our seized home.”

If he couldn’t completely cut ties with this place, then he’d have to pay the price.

But the debt wasn’t impossibly huge. He could plan carefully, study steadily, and minimize how much he had to repay.

While eating oden to replenish energy, he used his old secondhand tablet to make plans.

Most of the valuable things in the house had already been taken by creditors. Not much was left—the tablet was bought five or six years ago.

While eating, he suddenly heard a window open. The old house was in poor shape, cluttered and messy.

Due to his headache and limited time, he hadn’t cleaned the whole place—just wiped the dining table and chairs so at least the food would be clean.

Tan Xiao stood up and realized the screen window had opened. Something black had crawled in—at this hour, something black… could it be a big rat?

That rat must’ve been strong to push open the screen.

He quickly hid the food inside a 20-year-old fridge and went to shut the window, locking it tight.

Though the air inside became even more stuffy, it was necessary to prevent more losses.

“Meow.”

Tan Xiao heard a cat meowing. Looking carefully, he saw a very familiar black cat standing on his table.

In the dim light, the cat’s fur seemed to glow.

Good news: It wasn’t a smart rat—it was a cat. Leaving the screen window open had been safe.

Bad news: It was that bandit cat that had stolen his oden!

He had only eaten five skewers, and there were still fourteen left—six of which were meant for his mom when she got home from her night shift.

He hadn’t even eaten enough himself—he couldn’t feed a cat.

The household was too poor to raise pets.

Tan Xiao opened the door and grabbed a brown broom from the corner to chase it: “Shoo, shoo… get out!”

The black cat meowed again—its voice had been rough just moments ago, but now it sounded soft and sweet, like it could drip honey.

Tan Xiao noticed the cat had a pair of especially beautiful eyes—emerald green, wide and round in the dim light, making it look incredibly cute and lovable.

If he weren’t living in such a bad situation, he definitely would’ve adopted this fated little cat.

But their environment was just too bad. Cats are carnivores—he could live on vegetables, rice, and cheap instant meals, but the cat couldn’t.

Tan Xiao took a deep breath, put down the broom, put on his work gloves, and steadily picked up the cat.

The kitten didn’t struggle. Its soft body drooped like a limp noodle, letting him carry it just like that.

Although their first meeting hadn’t been great, the cat had a good temper. Even when hungry, it only stole food—it didn’t scratch or bite. It was an affectionate, obedient little cat.

Tan Xiao rushed out the door in one swift motion and placed the cat in the flower bed outside the building.

He set it down, turned, and ran back inside, quickly locking the door behind him.

All of this happened so fast that the black cat didn’t have time to react. It stared in shock at the closed door: It—an eight-tailed cat demon, a great spirit—had been kicked out by its fated human!

Soon the little cat came clawing at the door and meowing.

Tan Xiao felt terrible. He said sadly, “I’m sorry, I’m just too poor! I really can’t raise you. Go find a better owner.”

“You’re so cute and smart—you’re bound to find someone better.”

“Meow meow,” the eight-tailed lord replied softly, signaling it didn’t mind its fated person being poor.

But Tan Xiao’s heart seemed made of iron. The black cat twitched its ears and heard his footsteps moving away from the door.

It changed directions, jumping back to the window from earlier—but this time the glass was shut and locked.

Though it was a cat demon, it couldn’t show off too much in front of its human—otherwise it might scare him.

Tan Xiao took out the oden he hadn’t finished. He sensed eyes watching him. In the living room window, he saw a black cat face pressed against the glass—its skinny little cheeks squished and distorted.

The young man got up, walked to the window, and pulled the curtain closed with a heavy expression: “Sorry, little cat. Not eating in front of you—that’s the most kindness I can offer.”