Eight-tailed cat (7): A silly cat

There’s a big difference between dreams and reality. In the dream, Tan Xiao had never even met this rich young man, yet once he was immersed in that environment, he somehow naturally understood the backstory and knew all the causes and consequences.

At times, it felt like he was seeing things through the eyes of a character in the dream. At other times, he observed everything from a third-person, almost godlike perspective.

The black cat in the dream was just like the one in Tan Xiao’s real life—an uninvited guest. Back when the spoiled heir was still a wealthy young master, a skinny, starving black cat had appeared in front of him.

At that time, the rich young man was out with someone he liked. Seeing that his love interest liked cats and that the black cat looked pitiful, he tossed it a half-eaten chicken drumstick.

The black cat glanced at him, let out two meows, and ran off with the drumstick in its mouth.

But unlike Tan Xiao’s affectionate pet, the cat in the dream—though tall, handsome, and majestic—wasn’t friendly and was even rather fierce.

Even though the young man had given it a chicken leg, the cat didn’t get close to him. It also wasn’t clingy like Wen Yi, let alone the kind that would lie belly-up and let you rub or cuddle it.

Tan Xiao told himself: the black cat in the dream only looked a little like Wen Yi. After all, most black cats look the same—just a black blur. If they all have green eyes, you probably couldn’t tell them apart anyway.

After the rich heir lost everything and became destitute, his old friends abandoned him. The household servants either ran away or had long been dismissed and sold off.

Without a home and with no skills, the fallen young master became a beggar, sleeping in ruined temples. He was delicate and thin-skinned, unable to compete with the other beggars, and often went hungry.

Fortunately, the black cat returned from the heavens, dropping a sparrow in front of him. He roasted the bird and had a rare meal of meat.

The black cat that stayed with him was incredibly capable—bringing him birds and eggs, catching fat rats from the broken-down temple, digging up stored grain from mouse holes, and even occasionally delivering live, wriggling fish.

You could say the only reason the fallen heir survived those hardest days was thanks to the cat’s offerings. Over time, the bond between man and cat seemed to deepen.

But more than food, what the young man needed was money. Summer was still tolerable, but with autumn approaching and the weather cooling, he’d need warm clothes to survive the winter.

A cat was no large dog or tiger—it couldn’t provide enough body heat to get someone through the cold season. So the heir turned to prayer, asking the gods for money.

But gods didn’t grant the wishes of fallen heirs. If simple prayers really worked, his family wouldn’t have gone bankrupt, and there wouldn’t be poor people in the world.

In truth, the gods weren’t moved by the young man’s prayers—but the highly perceptive black cat was willing to trade its own flesh and blood instead.

Watching from above, Tan Xiao felt it wasn’t worth it: “He only gave you a chicken leg—and that was just to impress someone else! He didn’t care about you afterward. You’ve already more than repaid him by catching so many birds and fish in his time of need. How could you use your own body to trade for gold? You’re such a fool!”

Even without the fallen heir, the cat—with such great hunting skills—could have easily survived on its own. Doing this made it the number one foolish cat in the world.

And when he saw this scene, Tan Xiao had a terrible premonition. As expected, the dream took a darker turn.

The fallen heir was overjoyed when he got the gold. He sold the small piece of gold, quickly bought new clothes and food, moved out of the ruined temple, and into a cozy inn.

He spent money extravagantly and burned through it quickly. Soon enough, he was poor again and went back to praying to the gods for more.

But the black cat didn’t grant his wish this time, instead letting him suffer for a few days. The young man reflected and figured he hadn’t been sincere enough. So he spent the last of his money to buy another chicken leg and offered it up in prayer.

Tan Xiao grew more anxious watching all this, but he couldn’t change anything in the dream.

The cat slowly lost its flesh. It lost its sense of smell and hearing, its ears and eyes became damaged, and its tail shortened.

Tan Xiao shouted, “Stop sacrificing! He’s not stupid—he can clearly tell you’re the one giving your flesh! He’s just using the gods as an excuse to take it from you!”

Yes, the fallen heir may have been spoiled, but he wasn’t blind. He could see this black cat was no ordinary creature.

Isn’t that how stories go? A poor scholar saves a spirit—it might be a beautiful fox demon, a peony flower spirit, or a koi fish from a river trying to become a dragon. And then the spirit repays the favor.

This black cat was powerful, with a commanding presence and a strong voice—not a female cat, and not about to transform into a beautiful woman to offer herself. But if a male cat could provide gold, that wasn’t bad either.

At first, the heir had truly been grateful. But then he began to take it for granted—and even grew greedy.

After all, if the cat owed him, wasn’t it only right for it to repay him?

At this point, he conveniently forgot how his servants had abandoned him when his house collapsed. The world is cold, and even those indebted to you often don’t care in the end—so why demand so much from a little cat?

In the end, the young man was selfish. He spoke nicely to the cat, saying things like, “You’re all I have, I’m so lucky to have you,” and when he bought food, he would remember to bring some for the cat too.

But if not for supporting him, the cat could have lived very well on its own while healthy.

The heir was like a detestable vampire—with a strong body and healthy limbs—yet clinging greedily to the weak black cat, sucking it dry.

At night, wanting to learn the truth about the gold, the young man even pretended to sleep. When the cat made a wish, Tan Xiao saw his eyelids twitch—he wasn’t even asleep!

Following behind the fallen heir in the dream, Tan Xiao could hear him complain about how small the gold pieces were and how the cat couldn’t reward him as much as the spirit creatures in books.

Those book-spirits not only helped poor scholars become rich, but also gave them wives, children, titles—some even became ministers. But this guy had to do it all himself.

The cat grew thinner and weaker. Meanwhile, the heir collected more and more gold.

As the cat neared death, the heir still begged the gods: “Just a little more! I’m almost there—I just need a bit more to reclaim my family estate.”

The black cat gave him one long look. Just like before, a new gold piece appeared beside the heir—but the blind, tailless cat disappeared entirely before the idol.

Perhaps because there was no longer a cat to sacrifice, the heir’s fortunes later fluctuated. But in the end, he really did rise again. He even built a golden statue of the cat and spread the story of its gratitude, turning it into a local legend.

At the end of the story, Tan Xiao woke up from the dream—furious.

Opening his eyes, he saw his own little cat sprawled out beside his pillow, sound asleep.

He had raised the cat well. Its fur was beautiful, its ears, mouth, and eyes all healthy. Its belly rose and fell gently as it purred in comfort.

This black cat looked exactly like the one in the dream—those triangular ears, the flawless black fur, the perfectly shaped nose, and especially those beautiful green eyes—were identical.

And really, how many clever, spiritual cats like that could there be? Tan Xiao couldn’t help feeling that the dream cat and his cat were one and the same. Thankfully, the dream’s fallen heir looked nothing like him. Name, face, personality—all different. There was no way they were reincarnations of the same soul.

Maybe the cat was the reincarnation of that dream-cat. If so, what a waste of such cleverness.

Thinking of the cat’s body slowly fading, tail breaking off, and finally vanishing into a single piece of gold, Tan Xiao suddenly felt a rush of emotion. His chest tightened, his heart ached, and he couldn’t help but reach out and tap the cat on the head.

“You silly cat! You dumb little fool!”