Chapter Two: The Uninvited Guest (Part Two)

The sound from the balcony startled Tao Ming so much her heart skipped a beat. She told Ruan Ruan to sit still on the sofa, then fished a pair of scissors from the coffee table drawer and crept cautiously toward the source of the noise.

It couldn’t possibly be a thief, could it? After all, she lived on the twentieth floor; what kind of burglar could scale such a height? It didn’t seem likely that someone had thrown something inside either—the distance between buildings was so great that even if someone tried, what kind of superhuman strength would that require?

Hesitating, Tao Ming edged her way to the sliding balcony door. She carefully peeked out and saw that a small section of the easternmost glass panel had shattered—a hole about the size of a fist. Rainwater streamed down the jagged edges. Following the trail of water, she noticed a small, white creature pressed against the wall, something like an animal.

Tao Ming gripped the scissors in front of her and moved closer, step by step.

The creature remained motionless.

Summoning her courage, Tao Ming crouched beside it and saw that it was a newborn kitten, eyes tightly shut, about the size of her two fists put together. Its entire body was soaked, but the white fur was surprisingly clean and it didn’t appear dangerous.

Just to be safe, Tao Ming flipped the scissors around and prodded the kitten’s belly with the handle. Still, not a twitch.

Tao Ming hesitated. She had always been afraid of cats—once, as a child, she’d been scratched, and the trauma lingered. It was the main reason she refused to move in with her parents: after she left for university, they’d felt lonely and adopted a stray cat.

That cat was old now and usually lay atop the TV, barely moving, but Tao Ming still felt uneasy around it.

After wavering a moment, Tao Ming finally summoned her nerve and gently poked the kitten’s head with her index finger. Nothing. She stroked the kitten’s head—still no response.

Worried the kitten might have died from the fall, she touched its belly. There was warmth and a subtle rise and fall—it was alive.

But how had a kitten ended up here, on such a high floor? Tao Ming stood up and looked out the window, scanning the surroundings. Nothing seemed amiss; the rain fell just as heavily, and the residential complex was deserted as ever.

She glanced back at the kitten. It was, after all, a living creature—she couldn’t just ignore it.

Turning toward the living room, she called, “Ruan Ruan, bring me a bath towel.”

Ruan Ruan hurried to the bathroom, fetched a towel from the rack, and scampered over, peering curiously at the kitten, “Is that a little kitty?”

Taking the towel from Ruan Ruan, Tao Ming considered how best to pick it up. “I think so. Grandma’s cat looks similar.”

She gently wrapped the kitten in the towel and carefully carried it back to the living room, Ruan Ruan in tow.

Placing the kitten, still swaddled in the towel, on the coffee table, Tao Ming tenderly dried its fur and checked it over several times, confirming there were no external injuries. She also discovered it was a female.

Ruan Ruan stood by, wanting to touch the kitten but too timid, and finally looked up, asking, “Mama, can we keep her?”

Tao Ming thought of the kitten’s strange arrival and her own fear of cats. She wanted to refuse a hundred times over, but didn’t want to upset Ruan Ruan. She hesitated before replying, “First we need to take her to an animal hospital and make sure she’s healthy. Then we can talk about keeping her.”

Ruan Ruan pouted, “But I want a kitten! Even Grandma has one.”

Tao Ming was about to reply when the kitten seemed to move. She thought she was seeing things and gently smoothed its fur. Slowly, the kitten opened her eyes, turned her head to look around, and fixed her gaze on Ruan Ruan, mouth opening: “Awoo?”

The white tiger opened her eyes and beheld an unfamiliar scene: strange objects everywhere, a flat box on the wall displaying a child walking and a duck quacking. Later she would learn this was called a television, and it was showing a cartoon.

On the long piece of furniture in front of her sat a woman and a young girl, dressed oddly, their faces quite similar—plump and rosy. Recalling the purpose of her journey, she tested the waters and addressed the girl, “Saintess?”

At her words, the girl excitedly jabbered to the woman, but the white tiger couldn’t understand a word.

What was happening?

Could it be this wasn’t the Saintess?

The clan chief had clearly used the relic’s location to send her here, and she could distinctly sense the familiar aura from something in the room. Surely, she hadn’t come to the wrong place.

“Awoo,” she cried again. Ruan Ruan was overjoyed, “Mama, the kitten likes me! Let’s keep her.”

Tao Ming’s face darkened. How could you tell it likes you?

But not wanting to disappoint Ruan Ruan, she merely hummed noncommittally.

The white tiger called “Saintess” a few more times, but seeing no reaction from the two, thought, Thank goodness the clan chief had the foresight to give me a “Contract Stone.”

She fished a flat, round white stone, intricately engraved, from a hidden pouch on her belly, and held it out, paw up, for the two to see.

Tao Ming was on the verge of losing her mind. Such bizarre events unfolding right before her! Had she gone mad from reading too many fantasy novels last night?

A cat had not only appeared in her home in the strangest way, but now was producing a stone from its belly?

“What kind of demon are you?” Tao Ming snatched Ruan Ruan into her arms, staring intently at the kitten.

Ruan Ruan blinked innocently. “Mama, she’s a kitten, not a demon!”

Tao Ming clutched Ruan Ruan tighter, “She just pulled a stone out of her belly. Isn’t that what demons do?”

“Doraemon has far more in his pouch! Is he a demon?” Ruan Ruan retorted, indignant.

Tao Ming could only laugh and cry.

The white tiger watched their mouths move, unable to make sense of their words—utterly helpless. She looked at the stone in her paw, scratched herself with a claw to draw a drop of blood, dripped it onto the stone, then pointed at Ruan Ruan and made a slicing gesture.

Tao Ming shook her head resolutely. She didn’t even know what this cat was, and now it wanted Ruan Ruan’s blood? That would hurt! She couldn’t bear it when her precious daughter so much as bumped herself, let alone cut her finger.

Seeing her refusal, the white tiger grew anxious. Would she have to use that method? It wasn’t very effective and left aftereffects, requiring days of recovery. But the main problem was the language barrier; better to solve that first.

The white tiger pointed at Ruan Ruan, then plucked some fur from her own body, motioning for them to do the same.

Tao Ming considered, then pulled out a strand of her own hair and placed it before the kitten.

The white tiger shook her head and pointed again at Ruan Ruan.

Tao Ming repeated the gesture, shaking her head.

The white tiger was exasperated. I am the Saintess’s contract beast—what would I want with your hair?

Ruan Ruan, watching the pantomime between woman and cat, giggled. “You’re both so funny!”

Without much thought, she plucked a hair from her head and placed it in front of the kitten.

Tao Ming reached to take it back, but the white tiger was quicker, swallowing it in one gulp.

As the hair slid down, a torrent of information surged into the white tiger’s mind, making her dizzy and sending her blood racing. She shuddered.

After a moment, she digested enough to confirm that the girl before her was indeed the one she sought. She opened her mouth and spoke, “At last I can understand you. It’s just that much in the Saintess’s memory doesn’t correspond to my own.”