Volume 1 / Chapter 22: The Kitten Seller at the Market
On a brisk October afternoon, the white clouds that had covered the city all morning finally scattered, allowing the warm sunlight to peek through and briefly light up the world with its gentle smile.
MĂČ XuÄyĂĄoâs father parked his tricycle at the entrance of the farmers' market. He lazily sat in the back, where a few stray cabbage leaves still clung to the bed of the cart, munching on steamed buns and pickled vegetables while basking in the sun.
The busy morning had come to an end. The afternoon would only pick up around three or four oâclock, usually with last-minute restocking orders. Sometimes, there wouldnât be any orders at all.
If there were no deliveries, heâd head home to shower and nap for a while.
Even though the weather had cooled down slightly, the dayâs high still barely reached 25°C. But MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ still wore nothing but a gray tank top. His pants, though long, were rolled up to his knees.
Beneath the tank top, his muscles were solid, though not overly exaggerated.
Sweat still trickled down his body, evaporating in the warmth like heâd just stepped out of a sauna.
âYo, Ä LĂŹ! How many runs have you done today?â Another tricycle stopped beside his, and the driver, a man around his age, called out.
âEight trips,â MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ replied, reaching for the large water bottle in the cart, taking a long gulp. After all, eating only steamed buns and pickled vegetables was a bit hard to swallow.
âItâs tough work, huh? Iâve only done six. Donât push yourself too hard. Gotta take care of your health,â the man warned.
âEh, itâs fine. None of the trips were that far,â MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ chuckled. âThe real money is in working hard.â
âYeah, but healthâs important too. How much did you make?â
âForty-five.â
âHey, thatâs pretty good. I only made thirty today.â
âThe last load was heavy, so the pay was better,â MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ said, stuffing the last of his bun into his mouth. Then he stretched lazily. âUgh, delivering stuff all day is exhausting.â
âMaybe you should think about getting a business going?â
âMaybe later. Itâs not stable enough yet.â MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ shook his head, though it was clear he was already thinking about it.
âAlright, Iâm heading back to the wholesale market,â his colleague said.
âYouâre going again? Have you eaten yet?â
âAlready had something on the road. Gotta make money, you know? My wife got laid off, and the kid still needs to go to school. Thereâs always something to pay for.â
âMm, Iâll stay here and rest for a bit.â
âOkay, see you.â
The two briefly exchanged pleasantries before going their separate ways.
The man had lost his job during the earlier wave of layoffs. Now, for the sake of survival, he had to take on hard labor. And with his wife out of work, the burden on him had grown even heavier.
âEveryone has their strugglesâŠâ MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ sighed, lying back in the cart, basking in the midday sun.
The warmth enveloped him, and he drifted into a half-sleep. The breeze was cool, but the sun kept him comfortable enough, though the wind made him feel a little chilled. So, he pulled a woven bag over himself, using it like a blanket.
It was the working class that had it hardest, he thought. But thatâs how the world wasâthe pyramid structure. Everyone wanted to rise above, but it wasnât that simple.
The higher up you go, the fewer people you find there.
Talent, background, and luck all influenced a personâs success. While effort could change oneâs social class, it wasnât an easy task.
The crisp autumn breeze carried the sweet scent of osmanthus. If you really concentrated, you could even taste the refreshing coolness of mint in the air.
The clouds above, bathed in sunlight, looked soft and fluffy. It almost made you wonder if theyâd taste like cotton candy if you could bite into them.
âMeow~â
âMeow meow~â
âMew~â
MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ didnât wake up from an alarm clock, but rather from the soft meows of kittens.
He groggily sat up, checked his watch, and groaned, feeling exhausted.
âHmm⊠itâs only been half an hour,â he yawned and lay back on the tricycleâs guardrail, staring toward the source of the meows.
It turned out that someone had set up a small stall beside his tricycle. In front of him, there were two deep bamboo baskets filled with kittensâaround ten or so.
Next to the baskets, there was a piece of foam box lid with messy handwriting in marker:
"Kitten Sale: Females 20 yuan, Males 10 yuan."
MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, grabbed one, and lit it with a lighter. He took a long, satisfying drag, watching the thin trail of smoke curl into the air.
âHad a big litter, huh?â
âNo, Iâve got three female cats at home. These two litters are from two of them,â the old woman replied with a thick countryside accent.
âOh... theyâre well taken care of.â
âThey sure are! Plenty of milk!â The woman started enthusiastically selling her kittens, lifting a plump tabby and proudly saying, âThis oneâs full of energy! See how lively it is!â
âMeow.â The kitten squirmed, mewing as if it was flirting.
âItâs nice.â
âBuy one, just ten bucks, guaranteed no mice at home.â
âNot a good fit for my place,â MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ chuckled awkwardly. âIf I had a store, I might buy one, but with the house, Iâm worried about them making a mess.â
âTheyâre good cats! Very well-behaved! Theyâll use the litter box on their own!â
âReally?â
âYeah! You can even use a small basin with sand for them. Itâs no problem. Many people buy them to keep at home, and theyâre trouble-free!â
As the kittens mewed and tumbled over each other, they looked utterly adorable, melting anyoneâs heart.
âThatâs your word. But if you sell them and leave, how do I find you if thereâs an issue?â
âOh, I come here a couple of times a year! Ask anyone around hereâtheyâll tell you my cats are reliable!â The vendor answered confidently.
Some other customers had already bought a few kittens, and MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ found himself getting a little tempted.
Out of the remaining kittens, there were two tabby ones, two orange ones, one calico, and one black-and-white.
The vendor, noticing his hesitation, teased, âYouâd better pick one now, or there wonât be any left.â
After glancing at his phone, MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ sighed. No calls had come in, so there probably wouldnât be any work in the afternoon.
He nodded, hopped down from the tricycle, and crouched down to pick out a kitten.
âYou want a male or female?â
âMale,â MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ decided. He didnât want a cat to reproduce, and the male ones were cheaper anyway.
âExcept for this calico, the rest are males.â
âIâll take a look.â He gently pet the kittens, observing their reactions.
One bit his hand playfully, another rubbed against his arm, while one tabby sat still, letting him stroke its head. It had a black-and-white pattern on its back, with white on its belly and feet, except for one leg, which was fully covered in the same black-and-white fur, like a tattooed arm.
Its green-gold eyes were calm but alert, and MĂČ WĂ©nlĂŹ felt a spark of connection.
âThis one. Iâll take it.â He made his choice.
âTen yuan, Iâll get a bag for you.â
âAlright.â He pulled out his loose change from his pocket, gathered enough for the ten yuan, and handed it to the woman. He took the kitten in his arms, smiling with anticipation. âXuÄyĂĄo should like this one.â
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