‘I’ve missed you, too,’ I say, pressing my face into her soft fur, inhaling her dry, dusty smell. Her fur-tipped tail whips back and forth, thumping the ground.
It isn’t long before thundering steps come from deep within the western pavilion, and a huge black furball explodes into the courtyard, carrying in her mouth what looks like a bunch of tree branches.
Puffy bowls into Cutie, who caws in annoyance. She drops the branches at my feet and I see them for what they are. Or rather, what they were.
‘Is this what’s left of your new ball?’
Puffy wags her tail, as if proud of the devastation she’s wrought against the wicker ball. Her tail keeps smacking Cutie, who, in annoyance, kicks at Puffy with her back paws. Puffy, in turn, tries to sit her butt on Cutie’s head. They chitter angrily at each other, making me laugh.
‘Sit, Puffy,’ I say. ‘Not on Cutie, okay?’
Puffy reluctantly sets her great bottom on the dirt floor. Cutie stays on her back, her back leg surreptitiously shoving Puffy.
‘Cutie, none of that. You too, sit.’
With a huff, Cutie does as I ask. Now they’ve calmed down, both of them sniff the air. They smell the treats I brought.
Puffy nudges me with her great black head, nosing at the dried squid in my pockets. Cutie does the same, though they also try to shove each other away. When I get between them, Puffy decides to run her slobbery tongue up my face, like she’s grooming me. It’s ticklish and stinky. Cutie won’t be left outand decides the back of my head also needs grooming. I put my hands up in surrender.
‘Okay, okay! Stop and I’ll give you some treats.’
They both sit on their haunches, looking every bit the dignified guardians of the treasury they are meant to be.
‘At least you listen to me,’ I say.
They whinny, as if in sympathy. Settling myself against their legs, I offer them handfuls of dried squid as I recount the morning’s events, finishing with Big Wang’s bizarre behaviour and his question about Tony becoming vampire.
Big Wang claimed that stories all contain a kernel of truth. The books have thegistright – blood for sustenance, fangs, and preternatural abilities. Yaojing are incredibly strong, but I’m faster than all the yaojing I’ve come across and my sense of smell is better than the hulijing who are known for their keen noses. Since my mother’s strengths weren’t anything out of the ordinary, it makes sense to attribute those strengths to my vampire side.
Cutie snores softly beside me. Puffy has also fallen asleep, chittering happily in her dreams. I rest my head against Puffy’s cheek, thinking more about those books and how truths can be obscured by conflicting details.Varney the Vampirehad no problems with garlic or silver whileDraculawas even more allergic than I am.
My mixed heritage muddles things as well. A stake through the heart may well kill a vampire, but won’t do me or any yaojing any lasting harm, no matter how holy or sacred the wood. I’ve been stabbed enough times in sword fights to know. Same goes for beheading, though it would sting like a bitch and be an incredible pain in the pigu. Regenerating a whole head takes quite some time. Only a blue flaming Sword of Hell can carve out our primordial qi, the source of our regenerative powers, and bestow eternal death.
Going back to the question of turning mortals into vampires – what if the books had thegistright but the details wrong? Maybe I should read more novels about vampires and see what else I can learn.
After a few hours of reading Sanmao comics, I head home, back to the zigzag bridge and Lake Heart Pavilion. Bullhead stands in the kitchen, chatting with Old Zao. Ever since I was little, Old Zao, Bullhead and Horsey were a tight-knit trio. Horsey was the disciplinarian, Bullhead the protector, and Old Zao the nurturer. Horsey was always the one gossiping with Old Zao, but Bullhead has been coming around more often of late. They look up as I enter, stopping their conversation abruptly, like they’re hiding something.
‘How are the pixiu?’ Bullhead asks.
‘Adorable as always,’ I say. ‘What are you two up to?’
Old Zao, the Kitchen God, waves their hand dismissively. ‘Chatting.’
They are a notorious gossip, as well as a steel trap with information they do not want to share. I let it go. Instead, I say, ‘Can you make me some xiaolongbao?’
‘Didn’t you just have tea with Big Wang?’ Old Zao says.
‘Do you know how much work it is to keep the pixiu behaving nicely? I had to wrestle with Puffy because she kept trying to sit on Cutie’s head! Besides, I only had snacks with Big Wang. I’m so hungry.’ My stomach chooses that moment to rumble loudly.
Old Zao laughs, making their long dragon beard twitch. Even Bullhead smiles, showing the gap between his teeth.
I pause. Bullhead’s smiles are a rare and special thing.
‘What’s got you both in such a good mood?’ I ask.
Old Zao has that smug secretive look, the one they sport when they’ve got a nugget of gossip before anyone else.
Bullhead has a better mahjong face. He says, ‘I heard you’ve been doing an excellent job at Mahjong Council.’
