Not only did she need to improve her craft, but she also had to fold some paper offerings to burn during the upcoming grave-sweeping day.
Her relatives had long since reincarnated—whatever she burned wouldn't reach them. Still, she had to go. Whether the offerings were taken by wandering ghost or wasted didn't matter. If even a paper crafter didn't honor her ancestors, who would?
Her fingers moved swiftly, shaping gold foil into ingots.
"Not graded."
"Not graded."
"Still not graded."
"This one's graded."
"Back to ungraded."
…
She had no idea how long she'd been folding. Her fingers grazed the bottom of the gold paper basket—it was empty. The paper was all used up. When she looked up, she finally noticed the sky had darkened without her realizing.
Since opening her Heavenly Eye, night no longer hindered her vision—though it made her less aware of changing light.
Now, the large bamboo basket to her left overflowed with ungraded ingots.
The small basket on her right held just four—premium grade.
One more than last time. Progress.
After storing the premium ingots in the ghost shop's crate, she prepared to leave. She tucked her cane under her arm and had just locked the shop door when she heard a soft, drawn-out meow behind her.
"Meow~"
She turned around. Beneath the pagoda tree sat a fat, fluffy calico cat.
As if it knew she'd seen it, the chubby calico stood up, turned, and trotted toward the alley's end. After two steps, it paused, looked back, and meowed again.
"Meow~"
"You want me to follow you?" Song Miaozhu asked.
"Meow~" the calico replied, padding forward again.
Song Miaozhu followed. Every couple steps, the calico looked back to make sure she was still there. They walked out of Huaihua Alley and onto the main street. Tourists bustled up and down, but the calico darted through them with ghostly agility—nobody noticed her.
Song Miaozhu followed the cat into Garbage Alley. Originally nameless, the narrow lane had become the town's unofficial waste drop-off. Everyone just started calling it Garbage Alley.
"Meow~" the calico urged her along.
They passed a large trash bin leaning against the wall and went deeper into the alley. At the end, an old, discarded sofa sat under the shadows. Beneath the sofa, another chubby calico lay sprawled—but this one was cold and still.
Cold. Lifeless. Poisoned, maybe.
Beneath its belly, three tiny balls of fluff mewled pitifully.
The black kitten must've caught a familiar scent—it wriggled out from under its mother's cold body and made its way toward the standing calico ghost.
It tried to nuzzle her belly—but passed right through, tumbling in a roll and landing near Song Miaozhu's feet.
The white and orange kittens followed, trailing the scent of their sibling until they, too, gathered beside the ghost cat.
The three tiny balls of fluff huddled together, trembling and crying out.
Song Miaozhu sighed and looked at the spirit that had led her here. "You want me to take care of your babies, don't you?"
"Meow~" The calico ghost stared at her with pleading eyes.
"Alright." Song Miaozhu rolled up the hem of her sweatshirt and gently scooped up the three kittens. "I'll take good care of them. Don't worry."
The ghost calico rubbed its head against her pants leg once—then vanished.
The black kitten let out a faint cry, as if sensing the departure. The orange and white ones followed with tiny cries of their own. Their ghostly mother had cared for them well—their fur was soft and clean, their round heads full of life.
They were still too young. Their eyes were clouded with the faint blue film of infancy—clearly not yet a month old. Song Miaozhu gently stroked them. The fluffy little bundles pressed their heads into her palms, mewing and squirming.
Her heart melted completely.
"After years of virtual cat ownership, I finally have real ones. Three!"
The moment she saw them, she already had their names: "Little Coal, Little Snowball, and Little Goldie! Big Sis is going to get you some food right now—but first, we need to bring your mom."
She retrieved a reusable shopping bag from beside the trash bin, gently placed the slightly stiff calico corpse inside, and carried it out of the alley.
Worried that the kittens had been hungry too long, she headed straight to the nearest corner shop and bought a case of lactose-free milk. Then she hurried home to her little house on Xiaozhu Hill.
She dug out a small bamboo basket and an old syringe from the storeroom.
From her wardrobe, she pulled out a childhood floral cotton jacket and laid it inside the basket as bedding. She placed the kittens inside and carried them to the kitchen.
She boiled water to sterilize the syringe, then warmed the milk and used the fine-tipped syringe to feed them.
Little Snowball, the weakest mewer, was the first to be caught. The kitten offered no resistance, latching onto the syringe the moment it touched her lips. Half a tube of milk disappeared in seconds.
"Meow!" she cried for more.
Song Miaozhu obliged with another tube. Snowball wanted even more after that. Song Miaozhu patted her round belly. "If you drink any more, you're going to burst. Be good, I'll feed you again in a bit."
When she returned her to the basket, she suddenly noticed only Little Coal was left inside. A short distance away, beside the milk bowl, a little orange rascal had already broken out and begun the buffet.
Little Goldie couldn't wait and had gone rogue for a self-serve meal. Only Little Coal remained obedient. Song Miaozhu set Little Coal near the bowl, and he cautiously began to drink as well.
"Meow!" Snowball began to squirm.
Once released, she dashed over to her siblings and joined the feast.
"Did I not feed you enough?" Song Miaozhu began to doubt herself and checked her phone.
The conclusion: it wasn't that she fed too little.
It's just… these three had no concept of being full.
Well, Little Coal did—he stopped on his own. But the other two seemed determined to lick the bowl clean. Their bellies ballooned like overfilled balloons.
Song Miaozhu had to manually intervene, snatching the bowl away. "You're still babies! You can't eat that much in one go. Wait a while!"
She placed them back in the basket. After a short round of grooming, the kittens finally settled down.
Song Miaozhu grabbed a hoe and went into the courtyard. She dug a deep pit beneath the old pagoda tree and buried the calico mother. She didn't dare bury her out in the wild—stray animals might dig her up. Only this courtyard was safe.
Once everything was done, Song Miaozhu finally realized she'd forgotten to eat dinner.
The kittens were just too cute—she hadn't even noticed her hunger.
Now it was too late to go out again, and the ghost shop would be opening soon anyway.