Chapter 58, Mulberry Grove Newspaper
I've seen plenty of cats, but I've never seen a half-human, half-human Lin Xiushui.
"Don't even mention you, I've lived for eighteen years and never seen anything like it."
The round-faced man who hadn't brought the cat readily chimed in.
The old fortune teller leaned against a pillar, fanned himself with a palm-leaf fan, and said, "Yes, it would be terrifying if a half-human went out on the street without clothes."
A group of people who were chatting idly nearby, who were originally saying that they were going to patrol the tea plantation the next morning and some were going to pick mulberry leaves, slowly turned their heads to stare at the group upon hearing this.
"A dead person is a dead person, why use the term 'half-human'? People in Louzeyuan can't even come up with such jargon."
After all, the people in Sangqing Town are very elegant when they curse. When they are furious with their enemies, they don't curse the heavens, the earth, or even death. Instead, they say that the enemy is rushing to Louzeyuan to be buried first.
Lin Xiushui said that she didn't dare to listen to what they said, so she turned to ask, "Where's the cat?"
Where were the six cats? In this sweltering heat, she hadn't seen a single one.
The man shrugged and said, "They're still awake. I'll catch them for you once they're asleep."
He called himself Guanghui, not a monk. The town's granary responsible for disaster relief was called Guanghui Granary. He said that he was giving away both grain and money to the cat that ran into his house, so he should be called Guanghui.
"You make clothes for your own cat?" Lin Xiushui asked, puzzled and confused.
Guanghui said matter-of-factly, "That's right, they came to my house on their own, so how can they not be my cats? I just didn't give birth to them, but it's not like I didn't raise them."
Lin Xiushui made two "oh" sounds, repeating the same thing, "Then you should bring the real cat here."
"But the cat doesn't want to come when it's awake."
Lin Xiushui didn't say anything; this was like talking to a brick wall, like a cat wearing clothes and a dog wearing a hat—it was all a mess.
“But don’t rush, I brought a cat newspaper,” Guanghui said, taking out a stack of papers from his cloth bag. It was his own specially made cat newspaper, since it was made by his cat.
Others set up stalls to supply the imperial court with news reports and sell all sorts of gossip, but none of them—whether they're internal spies, provincial spies, or government spies—are as good as him, the cat spy.
Guanghui handed it to Lin Xiushui, then turned to the crowd and said, "None of you here have a share. I haven't even set up my stall to sell Cat News yet."
Who cares? Who wants to see it?
Of course, it was this group of people who loved watching the excitement. They had seen plenty of newspapers, but this was the first time they had ever seen a newspaper like this. The way they squeezed together, not caring about the heat, was like the frenzy at the butcher shop on the east side of the street when they heard that meat was only three coins a pound.
But Lin Xiushui wasn't the kind of meat that cost three coins a pound; she felt like the pig that was being snatched away.
"Stop, stop," Lin Xiushui said, taking three steps at a time, quickly grabbing a stool, standing on it, and holding up the cat newspaper as if announcing an imperial edict. "I'll read it to you."
The people below were bewildered by her. Someone said, "How are we supposed to listen to that? Kneel down and listen?"
The others chimed in, "Go outside and listen."
"Don't stand here and listen."
"Go back to your own house to listen."
"They all sound great."
Lin Xiushui was truly impressed. She was sweating profusely from the heat, and as she unfolded the paper with both hands, she glanced at the cat newspaper and widened her eyes slightly. This cat newspaper was quite interesting; it even had cat pictures and a layout.
These days, tabloids get their news from various informants. In order to grab attention, as soon as the news is in their hands, writers' pens fly like horses, hastily writing an article.
The workshops that printed tabloids did not use woodblock printing, but instead used wax plates. These wax plates were made of beeswax and rosin, which were softer than wood and easier to carve. As soon as the written content was in hand, it was immediately carved and printed onto paper. They couldn't wait overnight and sold it immediately.
After all, they were doing incredibly audacious work, the kind of thing where they could actually report to the emperor first and then execute someone. They were so bold that they could even forge imperial edicts that the emperor had never issued, making them widely known and even getting the emperor to issue a decree to clarify the situation.
This cat newspaper is much more interesting than a page full of black characters. The right half of it is a picture of a cat. She flipped it over to show everyone. It was a white cat with a tuft of black fur on its head and a black ring around its mouth.
Guanghui interjected, "This one is called Cat White, and it's the whitest of all cats."
One of the women said, "Isn't this just white sesame mixed with black sesame? It's a snow-white lump of cake, it should be called sesame candy."
“The sugar is sweet, but this cat is heartless,” Guanghui said angrily, telling Lin Xiushui to turn to the left. There was a whole page of evidence of the cat’s crimes. Lin Xiushui looked down and saw that it said, including but not limited to, that the cat refused to drink the water it had and openly drank the water from his bowl.
It gnaws on the flowers he grows, even tearing off the leaves. Instead of walking on the path, it deliberately jumps onto the table and uses its tail to whip the vase until it hits the ground with a thud. Only then does it bristle and run away, peeing as it runs.
It also possesses the agility to scale walls and leap across rooftops, but instead of leaping across rooftops, it only climbs walls, always lying on the crossbeams, spreading its claws, and clinging tightly to them, as if it were a gecko.
Such things are too numerous to list. Guanghui wants to inform the whole world that this cat has a white skin but a black heart.
“That’s just fuyuanzi,” Lin Xiushui replied casually, “white skin, black sesame seeds, so delicious.”
She wants to plead not guilty for the cat.
The group discussed which restaurant served the best glutinous rice balls on such a hot day. Lin Xiushui, however, continued looking at the cat magazine with the white cat inside. On the left page, it had the cat's age written on it: two years and three months since she found it.
It likes to dig in the soil, doesn't like to eat fish bones, and has a pair of claws that are never idle. It scratches everywhere to prove that the cat has been here, which is more profound than writing poems or painting pictures here.
Guanghui is very qualified as a cat detective; his drawings are vivid and lifelike. The second and third pictures are of tabby cats, twins, one named Huali and the other Lihua. Both of them love to eat fish, especially the carp he keeps in his tank. Guanghui said he wishes they could eat fish every day.
The fourth and fifth pictures also show cats of similar breeds. These two are orange tabby cats. One is named Wild Chrysanthemum. It is not in good health and its eyesight is not good. It is sickly and always sleeps because it can't see very well. Wild chrysanthemums bloom most abundantly on the mountains in the town, covering vast areas. It is hardy and wild chrysanthemums are good for clearing the liver and improving eyesight, so it was named Wild Chrysanthemum.
The fifth one is a little orange tabby cat, very similar to the cat Xiaoyetou two months ago. It's small and thin, and its name is Jumiao. There's an explanation in the cat newspaper: Lin'an Prefecture has many chrysanthemums, but no matter what kind of white chrysanthemum or chamomile it is, none of them are as good as the domestic orange tabby.
Lin Xiushui had never admired anyone's naming ability. Cat Xiaoye lost, but thankfully, Cat Xiaoye had an older sister named Ren Xiaohe.
Everyone listened with great interest. How could such ordinary things be described so vividly by others, bringing the cats to life?
The last picture is of a tortoiseshell cat. Its left cheek is yellow and its right cheek is black. There is a clear dividing line between its nose and eyes, separating the left and right sides. Its eyes are round and bright, and it doesn't look like it has any bad intentions.
The cat is named Hunxiao. Guanghui said, "I don't know where it escaped from. It was injured when I found it. There is an old poem that says, 'Nature bestows its beauty upon the divine, dividing day and night.' Its face is yellow and black, which are the colors of yin and yang. It is most suitable to name it Hunxiao."
The crowd cheered him on, and he immediately bowed and said, "Well said, I'm just a scholar who failed the imperial examinations."
It prefers quiet to movement at dusk and dawn, is timid, has a long tail held high, likes to stick close to people's legs, and eats and drinks slowly.
Guanghui smiled and said, "I came here for this very reason. I wanted you to make me a dress, preferably something eye-catching, with bells hanging on it."
“But cats have sensitive ears, so you can’t hang bells on them,” Lin Xiushui explained, carefully putting away the cat newspaper, getting off the stool, and returning it to the cat fanatic.
Guanghui nodded, wiped the sweat from his hands, took the newspaper and said, "I know."
"It's a deaf cat."
"It's timid and sometimes it runs away and hides somewhere. I can't find it no matter where I look. I'm really afraid that it will get lost one day."
"Give it a coat, and it will stand out from the crowd. Besides, if the other cats have mouths, they'll definitely accuse me of favoritism."
He flicked his sleeve, snorted, and said, "When brothers and sisters don't get along, it's mostly because the elders are immoral."
"I'm not biased, I'll do both."
"And where's your cat?" Lin Xiushui asked the same question again.
Guanghui shrugged, "I can't bring it. I'll ask you to think of a way. Everyone says you're amazing, and you have a great reputation."
Yes, fame has both good and bad aspects.
Heaven has bestowed a great responsibility upon this person, and that person is her; she is being tested.
Under so many eager gazes, Lin Xiushui felt like she was being roasted alive. She waved her hand and said, "I have a way. Make a cat bib."
"Is this bib a proper thing?" Guanghui asked after thinking for a moment. "Even though it's a hot day, it's not really appropriate to wear a bib with bare arms."
Lin Xiushui looked up at him and slowly uttered a few words, "I'm very serious."
"It's just a scarf to catch drool."
“I know, it’s called a bib, why give it such a nice name?” someone in the crowd chimed in. “If all else fails, you can call it a neck warmer.”
Lin Xiushui closed her eyes and said, "Can't this group of people stop interrupting us?"
She drew bibs for the cat, and all Guanghui needed to do was bring the cat's neck size. It was quite frightening to think about.
Bibs are relatively easy to make. Whether it's two inverted triangles, pleated like a full-length skirt, or an inverted semi-circular pocket bib, they all work. In the summer, you don't have to worry about your cat getting too hot.
The main cat bib for day and night can have a small rounded collar and a small bell sewn on.
Guanghui said all six cats should be identical, and the bells can be larger. He will raise Hunxiao separately, as deaf cats are not very popular among cats and will only suffer.
At least let him hear the sound, so he can find out which corner of the house Hunxiao is hiding in.
Of course, he regretted it later. He bought such a big bell; the cat couldn't hear it, but he could hear it all, which was annoying. But he could also quickly catch the sounds of dusk and dawn and always went to check on it immediately to comfort it.
Lin Xiushui nodded and said, "Okay, I happen to be quite free, so I won't charge you. You can use this cat newspaper as payment."
“That won’t do,” Guanghui shook her head. “If it really doesn’t work out, I’ll feel bad if you don’t charge me for taking up your time.”
Lin Xiushui casually said, "Why don't you make a small newspaper for our Sangshukou? I think you're talented at making small newspapers."
"You can be more than just a cat detective; you can be a street detective."
Amidst the constant praise, Guanghui, a down-on-his-luck man who had studied for ten years but failed the imperial examinations and was constantly scolded by his family as a good-for-nothing scoundrel, and who wasn't particularly short of money, became a street scout in Sangshukou, basking in the adulation.
Since he's someone who can't bring glory to his family, then someone like him can do anything.
The most noteworthy thing about Sangshukou is its mending of covered walkways. Just like squatting under a tree watching a cat, he would often take a chair, a stack of paper and pens, and without even a table, just loiter around the stalls where people repaired calligraphy and paintings. He said that pen, ink, paper and inkstone are inseparable, and even though they are separated by 180 turns, they were one family a hundred years ago.
Because he was very meticulous in making the tabloid, he always asked questions. Whenever someone came in to have a pair of worn-out shoes repaired, he would go over and ask, "When did these shoes break? How did they break? How do you repair them?"
Or, to put it another way: "Cats, whether black or white, are all good cats. Even a 'sinful cat' was once a good cat chosen from among thousands."
So people also nicknamed him "Cat Hundred Questions".
Cat Hundred Questions Guanghui explores the streets of Sangshukou during the day, goes back home to pet cats and take a nap at noon, and comes out again at night, wandering around Sangshukou at night.
The puppet theater troupe started its class at night, and a group of children came out to play with the puppets. He wanted to join in too, but as he played with the puppets in his hands, he said, "Why isn't there a cat puppet show?"
Lin Xiushui drank the plum juice, swallowed it, and said, "What kind of show is that? Go home and watch your cat show."
But on such a day, Sangshukou welcomed its first issue of a tabloid. It was a large sheet of paper, densely packed with text, and Lin Xiushui's name was only written in four big characters. Who would buy it?
How is she supposed to read it aloud in public?
The story goes something like this: On a certain day and time, Zhang Laosan brought his tattered fishing net. According to him, the net was torn by a fish weighing over ten kilograms. It was a really, really big fish, as you can see in the picture. However, the fish got away, and he was filled with remorse. But he wanted to tell everyone in Sangshukou about it.
This street detective believes that he didn't come to Grandma Huang to mend his fishing net; he came to show off the big fish he hadn't caught yet.
The picture below shows a large fish struggling, but it escaped from the net.
Upon hearing this, Zhang Laosan immediately slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "That's right, that's right! Finally, someone understands me! Back then, such a big fish slipped right under my nose. Can you believe how infuriating that was? I had to take my fishing net across the street!"
“Nonsense, there aren’t any fish that big at Sangqiao Ferry,” retorted the fishmonger who often delivered catfish to Lin Xiushui.
Guanghui immediately noted it down. "A lie? Let him ask me first. I can't wrong an innocent person."
Lin Xiushui leaned over and glanced at it; what a terrible thing.
The tabloid was so detailed that Lin Xiushui could read it all after a quick glance when she got home from work. It described everything from who in Sangshukou had done, to arguments over silkworm eggs, the details of those arguments, and why three children had inexplicably started worshipping the old mulberry tree on the street. Even more absurdly, it described in detail things like two cats arguing and fighting on the street.
Is this a historian or a pet owner?
But everyone wants to be noticed and praised, so Guanghui did this job, which was free, and involved paying out of pocket for ink, paper, and pens.
He was determined to publish a small newspaper for Sangshukou for the rest of his life.
Upon hearing this, Lin Xiushui realized that he had led a young man astray.
Guanghui said, "Don't worry, don't worry, I will definitely make sure you go down in history."
"What name? My full name is Lin Xiushui, and I also have a nickname," Lin Xiushui replied briefly.
Then there was this guy who jumped over like a lump of charcoal. Before he even arrived, he said, "Can you write about me? I want to be remembered in history."
Zhang Musheng was tanned to the purest black charcoal, without a trace of pollution, except for his white eyes. Of course, he was really serious about fighting the fire, carrying a water bag out every day.
"Oh, firefighter, what should I write about you?" Guanghui asked seriously. "I'll write about how you put out fires."
Lin Xiushui was already thinking of leaving. She could guess what Zhang Musheng would say next. While others would talk about their professions, he would talk about his heights.
"Of course, I'll write about myself, Zhang Musheng, who has grown taller on this sweltering day!"
“I’m not relying on my shadow, the stool, or my father-in-law’s cane; I’ve truly grown to five feet four inches (1.7 meters)! Write that down!”
Zhang Musheng was overjoyed as soon as he crossed the line. For so many days, he had worked himself to the bone, throwing dozens or even hundreds of water bags every day. While others were sleeping, he had to stay awake and reach the height required to be selected for the Xiang Army. He no longer needed to grow a head.
Hey, my feet grew on their own.
He finally grew taller, so of course we had to write about it to the fullest extent, write it down, carve it out, and show it to everyone in Sangqing Town: Zhang Musheng is five feet four inches tall.
He should have this sentence engraved on every monument from now on, and take it with him.
What makes someone a soldier in the front lines? No longer a firefighter suspected of getting in through connections, no longer a chick standing under its mother hen. Zhang Musheng really wanted to cry, but he had to save his tears for the fire scene, otherwise the smoke would blind him.
“Guanghui Monk, ptooey!” Zhang Musheng hurriedly said, “Little brother, please write it for me, and I’ll frame it.”
"I am not a monk!! If you really want to call me that, please call me a Taoist priest."
Lin Xiushui listened from the side and thought, "Great, great! Finally, I don't have to listen to this guy repeating his height over and over again. Congratulations!"
As for the Zhang family, they were also happy, as the Zhang family had produced a remarkable person.
In the sweltering heat, Lin Xiushui not only saved her hearing, but also her livelihood.
Wang Yuelan finally stopped being so fixated on cooking.
In the sweltering heat of June, even her aunt, who was incredibly strong, couldn't bear it. She was so hot from reeling silk in the silk shop that her face turned red. When she got home, neither she nor Lin Xiushui wanted to cook. Finally, they relented and started buying food for all three meals.
In the old days, she would rather die of heatstroke by burning the stove three times a day or eat waterlogged rice than spend a single penny to buy ready-made food from outside.
Currently, she earns a little over two strings of cash a month. Sometimes, when she gets up early or during her off-work hours, she works as a silk reeler for others, earning a few hundred more coins.
Furthermore, after Lin Xiushui joined the tailor shop, she was promoted to a junior manager and received monthly gifts.
The gifts for the Dragon Boat Festival in May alone included three dou of white rice, two bags of white flour, about ten jin of red beans, a bucket of yellow croaker, and a jar of yellow wine.
In the past, she would buy rice and firewood by the bushel, and she would go back and forth to pick the cheapest rice. She was reluctant to buy wine and vinegar and had to be careful with her money. Now that rice and flour were plentiful, Wang Yuelan no longer had to worry about those things. She slowly paid off her house debts and no longer worried about the five or six hundred cash house tax that would be collected in June or July.
Having some money gives her peace of mind, and being debt-free makes her feel lighter. She finally decided to spend some money to ease her burden.
Wang Yuelan said from inside the house, "Starting tomorrow, we will still drink our own porridge in the morning."
“Oh, oh,” Lin Xiushui stood up, then sat down again; she could have left those words unsaid.
Wang Yuelan finished speaking, panting heavily: "We buy lunch and dinner too."
Xiaohe asked sincerely, "Why do we have to talk about these two things separately?"
"What do you know?" Wang Yuelan snorted. Neither of them knew how much effort she had put into saying such insane things.
Lin Xiushui was very savvy. At least her aunt was willing to spend twenty coins to buy a pot of sweet bean soup from the market. Before, she insisted on making it herself, saying that buying things was a waste of money.
Now she has changed her tune, saying, "It's best to remain calm when others are burning things."
“Yes, whatever you say is right,” Lin Xiushui chimed in, believing that food always tastes better when it’s cooked by someone else.
For example, dishes like Snow Bubble Spleen-Shrinking Drink, Deer Pear Syrup, Fish Tongpi Noodles, Fried Chicken Noodles, Water Lotus Shrimp, Shrimp Dumplings, etc., are indeed delicious.
However, her biggest wish is that one day she can recite the names of the fabrics she owns, just like reciting the names of dishes, such as Yaoban cloth, cotton silk, Linghu water silk, Xinggu gauze, Tianjing gauze, Yunluo, Qingluo, Manyuan Chunluo, and so on.
Then she would be very happy, spending her days counting money and cloth, instead of being in her room with only a few bolts of the same color of yellow straw cloth, struggling to revise the paper patterns in her hand, and dreaming of the future, or in short, the dreams she wants to realize in autumn, dreams that, if not realized, will be realized next spring.
She was so hot that she slammed her head on the table. "Wardo camisole, oh wardo camisole, long ones, short ones, wide ones, narrow ones, why do you keep changing it over and over again?"
The dress was just a dress, the style was the same, and she couldn't change it any further. When she touched the gauze fabric, her first instinct was to pull it off, but luckily her left hand reacted quickly and held her right hand down.
When she couldn't figure it out and had no one to discuss it with, she would bang her head on the table a few times, and then the thought would pop into her head: "Let's find a mentor."
Indeed, she should properly apprentice under a tailor's master. Everyone else has a master who teaches them step by step, and they can ask questions whenever they don't understand something. She also wants someone to learn from.
She really wanted to learn how to be a tailor properly so she could continue her career in tailoring.
The next day, when she arrived at the tailor's workshop, she shared her idea.
"Stop joking," Manager Zhuang said. "What kind of one can I find for you? The kind that's only used for random checks?"
"It's about checking whether things are acceptable at the tax gate."
Lin Xiushui thought to herself, "In this sweltering heat, if you keep saying things that are so cold and unresponsive, you might as well freeze me to death."
Their use of drawn thread embroidery to refer to this tax collection method eventually spread far and wide.
Lin Xiushui then turned to the counter to ask the old tailor, as she knew many people there.
The old tailor said, "What kind of person are you looking for? Someone who can enlighten you? You could try someone at a temple. I'll ask around later."
Lin Xiushui looked at her and asked, "Then shall I buy a bonito flake first?"
But the two of them were just teasing her, saying they would keep an eye out for someone with decades of experience to teach her proper tailoring techniques and experience.
Anyway, it's quite hard to find, so let her have some time to think.
Lin Xiushui said, "Okay."
The clothes were difficult to make, and the hot and stuffy weather made it very uncomfortable. Xiao Chun'e even took a long leave of absence. The work of burning charcoal was too tiring and not breathable. She developed a rash, with large patches on her body and small bumps on her face.
She said, "Once I get through the summer, and the fire really won't burn anymore, as long as I'm alive, I won't be afraid of running out of charcoal."
Xiao Chun'e is very optimistic. "It's a bit tough right now, but I'll definitely be the most comfortable person in autumn and winter. With the stove around, I won't feel cold at all."
"Wait for me to catch my breath before I come back to work."
Lin Xiushui tapped her arm and said, "Yes, when you come back to work later, that's just the rash left. Don't worry, it will disappear next year."
"Should we pay it back?"
"I don't want to go anymore, can I help you out?" Xiao Chun'e said.
Lin Xiushui replied without hesitation and with utmost sincerity, "Of course, I will invite you and give you ten coins."
"Don't be afraid that you won't be able to burn charcoal or work for a while after you come back. There will be plenty of work for you. I'm here."
Little Chun'e's eyes were brimming with tears, "You're even better than my own mother."
"Then I don't mind if you call me 'Mother'."
"Can't."
Lin Xiushui knew this, so she said, "Then you should say less lies in the future."
Of course, Lin Xiushui also felt a bit bored during the hot and humid summer days, and her way of relieving boredom was to go to a tie-dye shop and tie-dye scraps of cloth herself.
I don't want to make clothes, partly because of the heat, and partly because of the fabric. Maybe changing to a new fabric will solve the problem.
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