03. Resurrection

The head and neck joined together.

Dawn broke.

The darkness was swept away, and the world before his eyes grew bright again. Yet, unlike the clarity and color of before, it was shrouded in mist, the way the world might appear to one with severe nearsightedness and colorblindness.

Black fur grew naturally over his body.

Claws emerged from his nails, and his reversed hind legs landed on the ground. The sudden drop in his perspective was so dramatic that Lu Xun found it difficult to adapt. The exhaustion and hopelessness of life draining away from his body were gone; now, he was brimming with vitality, filled with an inexhaustible strength.

Unable to contain himself, he leapt up with a bound, landing nimbly outside the coffin pit in a single jump.

Looking down at the paw he’d raised, Lu Xun saw it was pure black. With a slight flex, sharp, curved talons sprang from his flesh.

“Meow!”

“Meow, meow?”

A hoarse, magnetic, deep voice sounded.

Lu Xun finally had a mouth again, yet now he almost wished to be mute.

Once more, ink-black, smoky characters floated before his eyes.

[Go back]

Before Lu Xun could even ask where, his nose twitched.

A faint, familiar scent—familiar to a cat, at least—stirred at his nostrils. In this foggy, near-sighted world, he seemed to glimpse a ribbon of pink.

This must be the sense of smell of a three-legged cat. It was Lu Xun’s first time in a cat’s body; he didn’t know what this familiarity signified.

He recalled yesterday’s cat funeral—how strange it all was. The people’s clothing was nothing like modern attire; even in the most remote countryside, no one wore such rough cloth and hempen garments. Their speech was archaic, almost incomprehensible, like ancient dialect.

‘Could this be an illusionary realm?’ the thought circled in Lu Xun’s mind.

He’d been decapitated in his little shop by a silver-masked man. The man had struck after Lu Xun aimed his Beretta, yet managed to move first—clearly someone formidable, not the usual scavenger picking through the broken realms of illusion.

It’s easy to kill; hard to dispose of a corpse. Before, there hadn’t been the opportunity.

Since the advent of the illusionary realms, the number of deaths within them was countless. In the real world, the authorities would investigate, but within the illusionary realms, there were no detectives from the department of justice.

‘I’ve heard that if you accidentally fall into an illusionary realm, you either wait for rescue or make contact with its inhabitants to gain powers not belonging to the real world.’

As a well-known black market dealer in Chongyang District, Lu Xun had some understanding of the illusionary realms—he would never just wait to die.

Solemnly, Lu Xun said to himself, “Three-Legged Cat, since I have your head, your affairs are mine, and mine are yours.”

“I want to go back. Is there a way?!”

The ink-black, smoky characters became clearer again.

[Go back]

“All right,” Lu Xun agreed.

He truly had no other options—not knowing the people or the place, not even in a human body.

Using the Three-Legged Cat’s skull, he’d become the “Old Three-Legged Cat.” In this state of bewilderment, he could only follow the trail of smoky, black-red characters.

As for his earlier questioning and bargaining, that had merely been a way to comfort himself.

“Let’s go!”

Despite the name, the old Three-Legged Cat only seemed lame when walking slowly. When running, he was like a bolt of black lightning streaking across the ground.

Before long, his eyes fell upon the main road.

Rustling.

The grass stirred slightly as the pure black old cat crouched by the roadside, golden eyes like slits.

He saw a city—a small, ancient earthen city.

The pink line of mist extended into the city.

Lu Xun eyed the soldiers guarding the gate, his golden pupils flickering, and his gaze swept to the shanties built against the city walls.

Emaciated beggars huddled in corners; red-eyed crows perched above, as if waiting for death to provide them a meal.

Had he not seen people, it wouldn’t have mattered, but seeing them stirred Lu Xun’s thoughts: ‘A cat’s body is far too inconvenient—I need a human head.’

He waited until dusk, but the tottering beggar showed no sign of dying.

The crow on the wall had long since flown away, but the old cat remained at his post.

“There are so many bones on the mass grave, yet not a corpse to be seen in this little county. The local authorities must be diligent.”

Lu Xun was done waiting. Too many uncertainties urged him on, so he resolved to follow the trail of smoky characters without further hesitation. The black cat dashed straight for the city’s main gate.

...

“Get out!”

The city guard jumped in fright and kicked at the air.

The black bolt was astonishingly fast, darting into the city with just a few leaps.

The old clerk pointed after the departing cat in surprise, thoughtful: “That…”

“What is it?” the guard asked.

“It looked just like the old Song family’s lame cat.”

The guard’s eyes widened, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead as he suppressed a tremor in his voice, “Old Liu, are you sure?”

The clerk glanced at him in surprise, “I know Old Song well—I wouldn’t mistake it. His lame cat has been around for years, at least eight if not ten. I saw it just a while ago. It’s so intelligent, and for a cat that old to run so fast—I’d say it’s turning into a spirit.”

The guard swallowed and lowered his voice, “Last night, the Song family’s funeral procession was leaving town. My brother was on duty and told me the coffin contained a black cat!”

“Dead?”

“Of course dead!” the guard’s voice grew shrill.

“This is bad. It really has turned into a spirit.”

The clerk bundled up his things and said, “I’ll go to Old Song’s house.”

The guard nodded hastily.

...

Song Residence.

Lord Song, still half in disbelief, asked, “You truly saw it, Brother Liu?”

“I saw it. A three-legged black cat, over two feet long—no one else in town has one like it.”

“Thank you.”

Lord Song bowed. Knowing that his friend had come to his house despite the funeral yesterday, he felt compelled to offer thanks.

Seeing Old Song unwilling to speak further, the clerk didn’t press him.

Lord Song beckoned for the steward to bring more tea, then sighed, “Family scandals should not be spread.”

The clerk waved his hands, “I understand.”

After sending his friend off, Lord Song immediately ordered, “Summon the priest!”

...

“My master is a grand adept of the Lushan Sect—his arts are never wrong!” The new disciple, Spring Thunder, defended his teacher.

Lord Song, arms folded, glared and retorted, “My friend saw the three-legged cat return. The guard at the gate can testify—”

The priest in the yellow robe gestured for his disciple to be silent, then bowed slightly, “There may have been other changes. Please rest assured, I am here.”

Lord Song relaxed a little, though his anxiety remained.

“Please, tell me the situation again.”

“Please sit, Master Priest.”

“Tea!”

Lord Song could not speak of these matters to others, but before a ‘doctor,’ how could he hide the ‘illness’?

He recalled, “My daughter returned home for a visit. In the middle of the night, her room was still lit. The steward reported seeing a man’s shadow, and soft sounds coming from inside.”

“I thought…”

“We went to catch them and found it was my son-in-law.”

“His rudeness aside, he never appears during the day—only at night, and only in the wing room. It’s very suspicious.”

“I kept watch half the night, and at dawn, I saw a large cat come out of the room.”

“…”

“The three-legged cat has returned—what are we to do?”

The priest stroked his mustache calmly, “It drank the talisman water; it cannot become a spirit. Perhaps its soul is still attached…”

Before the priest could finish, Lord Song suddenly stood, pointing outside, speechless.

He turned sharply.

A pair of eyes stared straight at him.

Golden beast eyes, radiant as jewels in the night.

At some point, the ink-black three-legged old cat was crouched under the eaves, facing the main hall.

The priest gripped his sword, “You really did come back!”

Lu Xun had no idea what was happening. As a headless corpse, he’d only half understood their words, but with the cat’s head, everything was clear. His expression was complicated, yet the sorrow in his brow would not fade.

Things had come to this.

Either he fought the priest, or retreated at once.

The priest held firm.

The old cat didn’t move.

The air grew tense.

Suddenly,

Lord Song waved his hand to shoo him away, “Three-Legged, go on now. It’s I who owe you. In future festivals, I’ll always burn more paper for you.”

“Meow?”