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.

Mò Xuěyáo’s 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 o’clock, usually with last-minute restocking orders. Sometimes, there wouldn’t be any orders at all.

If there were no deliveries, he’d head home to shower and nap for a while.

Even though the weather had cooled down slightly, the day’s high still barely reached 25°C. But Mò Wénlì 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 he’d just stepped out of a sauna.

“Yo, Ā Lì! How many runs have you done today?” Another tricycle stopped beside his, and the driver, a man around his age, called out.

“Eight trips,” Mò Wénlì 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.

“It’s tough work, huh? I’ve only done six. Don’t push yourself too hard. Gotta take care of your health,” the man warned.

“Eh, it’s fine. None of the trips were that far,” Mò Wénlì chuckled. “The real money is in working hard.”

“Yeah, but health’s important too. How much did you make?”

“Forty-five.”

“Hey, that’s pretty good. I only made thirty today.”

“The last load was heavy, so the pay was better,” Mò Wénlì said, stuffing the last of his bun into his mouth. Then he stretched lazily. “Ugh, delivering stuff all day is exhausting.”

“Maybe you should think about getting a business going?”

“Maybe later. It’s not stable enough yet.” Mò Wénlì shook his head, though it was clear he was already thinking about it.

“Alright, I’m heading back to the wholesale market,” his colleague said.

“You’re going again? Have you eaten yet?”

“Already had something on the road. Gotta make money, you know? My wife got laid off, and the kid still needs to go to school. There’s always something to pay for.”

“Mm, I’ll stay here and rest for a bit.”

“Okay, see you.”

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.

“Everyone has their struggles…” Mò Wénlì 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 that’s how the world was—the pyramid structure. Everyone wanted to rise above, but it wasn’t that simple.

The higher up you go, the fewer people you find there.

Talent, background, and luck all influenced a person’s success. While effort could change one’s social class, it wasn’t 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 they’d taste like cotton candy if you could bite into them.

“Meow~”

“Meow meow~”

“Mew~”

Mò Wénlì didn’t 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.

“Hmm… it’s only been half an hour,” he yawned and lay back on the tricycle’s 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 kittens—around 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."

Mò Wénlì 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.

“Had a big litter, huh?”

“No, I’ve got three female cats at home. These two litters are from two of them,” the old woman replied with a thick countryside accent.

“Oh... they’re well taken care of.”

“They sure are! Plenty of milk!” The woman started enthusiastically selling her kittens, lifting a plump tabby and proudly saying, “This one’s full of energy! See how lively it is!”

“Meow.” The kitten squirmed, mewing as if it was flirting.

“It’s nice.”

“Buy one, just ten bucks, guaranteed no mice at home.”

“Not a good fit for my place,” Mò Wénlì chuckled awkwardly. “If I had a store, I might buy one, but with the house, I’m worried about them making a mess.”

“They’re good cats! Very well-behaved! They’ll use the litter box on their own!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! You can even use a small basin with sand for them. It’s no problem. Many people buy them to keep at home, and they’re trouble-free!”

As the kittens mewed and tumbled over each other, they looked utterly adorable, melting anyone’s heart.

“That’s your word. But if you sell them and leave, how do I find you if there’s an issue?”

“Oh, I come here a couple of times a year! Ask anyone around here—they’ll tell you my cats are reliable!” The vendor answered confidently.

Some other customers had already bought a few kittens, and Mò Wénlì 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, “You’d better pick one now, or there won’t be any left.”

After glancing at his phone, Mò Wénlì sighed. No calls had come in, so there probably wouldn’t be any work in the afternoon.

He nodded, hopped down from the tricycle, and crouched down to pick out a kitten.

“You want a male or female?”

“Male,” Mò Wénlì decided. He didn’t want a cat to reproduce, and the male ones were cheaper anyway.

“Except for this calico, the rest are males.”

“I’ll take a look.” 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 Mò Wénlì felt a spark of connection.

“This one. I’ll take it.” He made his choice.

“Ten yuan, I’ll get a bag for you.”

“Alright.” 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. “Xuěyáo should like this one.”