Explore Chapter 14 of 'Cat Country' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
My landlord was a former envoy. The envoy had been dead for several years, and apart from having been abroad, *Madam Envoy* had another peculiarity-"*We* do not consume *intoxicating leaves*!" This phrase she uttered at least a hundred times a day. Regardless of who the landlord was, *I* had achieved my aim of scaling the wall. *I* felt as proud as a kitten attempting its first ascent onto a roof. At last, *I* could see how this four-walled house was arranged.
Halfway up, *I*’s heart began to pound. To say the wall was swaying would be a lie; yet it was absolutely true that dust showered down wherever my hands and feet touched it. *I* thought to myself: perhaps this crumbly wall served some other purpose. When *I* reached the top, unless *I* was dizzy, the wall must surely be swaying.
This was convenient indeed: *I* myself was the luggage. As long as *I* had a place to stay, *I* needn't worry about a thing. The room was just a layer of boards and four walls; no need for the bother of moving tables and chairs. As long as *I* didn't accidentally fall through the hole, peace would likely reign. The mud on the boards was at least two inches thick. The smell it gave off was nothing like what one would expect in an envoy's residence. With the sun beating down from above and foul mud below, *I* still had to go out into the streets. *I* finally understood why *felinoids* spent all their daylight hours out on the streets.
Before *I* could set off, figures crawled out of the hole: *Madam Envoy*, along with eight women with winter melon faces. The eight women scrambled over the wall first, none daring to look directly at me. Finally, *Madam Envoy*, with her body outside the wall and her head still above, delivered a speech: '*We* are going out. See you tonight! There's no help for it. The envoy is dead, and the whole burden falls on me. *I* have to keep an eye on these eight creatures for him! No money, no man, having to watch over these eight little goblins all day long! *We* do not consume *intoxicating leaves*! My husband was an envoy, *I* am *Madam Envoy*, *I* have been abroad, *I* do not consume *intoxicating leaves*, and *I* have to watch over eight little she-devils from morning till night!'
*I* hoped *Madam Envoy* would hurry down. Otherwise, who knew what those eight women would become in her mouth! *Madam Envoy* was quite tactful and vanished in an instant.
Once again, *I* was thrown into a maze of confusion. What was going on? Eight daughters? Eight sisters-in-law? Eight concubines? Yes, eight concubines. This was probably why *Scorpion* wouldn't let me visit his home. Below the boards, no light, no air-one *felinoid* with a pack of she-cats, to quote *Madam Envoy*'s official language-stink, chaos, lewdness, ugliness... *I* began to regret it. Seeing or not seeing this kind of family seemed unimportant. But *I* had already paid the rent. Besides, *I* ultimately needed to find a way to go down and look, no matter how unpleasant.
*I* hurriedly climbed down. Who could *I* talk to? Only *Young Scorpion*, though he was so pessimistic. But where could *I* find him? He certainly wouldn't be at home. Looking for someone on the street was probably as hopeless as fishing for a needle in the ocean. *I* pushed sideways through the crowd and looked at that street from a distance. *I* saw clearly: the center of the city housed the nobles' residences and government offices, for the buildings there were much taller. The further out, the lower and more dilapidated they became. These must be the dwellings of the poor and small shops. Remembering this general layout counted as getting to know *Felicity*.
Just then, over a dozen females squeezed out of the crowd. Pale faces meant women, *I* could tell even from afar. They were coming towards me. *I* felt uneasy. Based on the impressions *Madam Envoy* and *Scorpion* had given me, *I* had assumed the women here must be extremely obedient, utterly docile, and completely devoid of *freedom*. Running around freely like these dozen or so women surely meant they couldn't be respectable. *I* was new here. *I* mustn't let people look down on me. *I* had to be careful. Thinking this, *I* began to make ready to run.
'Care for one?' *Young Scorpion* said with a smile, his eyes sweeping around. 'This is Flower, this is Enchantress-more enchanting than *intoxicating leaves*-this is Star...' He told me all their names, but *I* couldn't remember them all.
Enchantress came over and winked at me. *I* shuddered. *I* didn't know what to do. *I* had no idea who these women were. If they were all bad, as a newcomer, *I* shouldn't disregard my reputation. If they were all respectable, *I* shouldn't offend them. To be honest, while *I* wasn't a woman-hater, *I* never seemed to have much fondness for women. *I* always felt that a woman's zeal for powder signified a fondness for pretense. Naturally, *I* had also seen women who didn't use powder, but they seemed no less false. This mentality didn't lessen the respect *I* felt was due. Respectful distance was my attitude towards the female sex. Therefore, *I* was reluctant to offend these young ladies.
'They? They seem-' *Young Scorpion* took over. 'They seem-to be women. Oppress them, spoil them, respect them, be infatuated with them, keep them-it all depends on the man's fancy. Women themselves never change. My great-grandmother powdered her face. My grandmother powdered her face. My mother powdered her face. My sister powders her face. These women powder their faces. Their granddaughters will also powder their faces. Lock them up indoors, they powder their faces. Turn them out onto the streets, they still powder their faces.'
'This isn't pessimism. It's praising women, esteeming women. Men run amok all day, get nowhere, turn into saints one moment, beasts the next. Only women, women alone, remain pure throughout, remain women throughout, keep striving: they always feel the face Heaven gave them isn't good enough and must be whitened with powder. If men also felt the faces of both saints and beasts lacked a certain fair smoothness, they certainly wouldn't be so shameless. They'd care for their face first, then run amok.'
*Young Scorpion* continued triumphantly. 'The women just now are all so-called new-style women. They are the enemies of my father and *Madam Envoy*. Not that they want to fight my father; it's that he hates them because he couldn't sell them like *intoxicating leaves* if they were his daughters, nor lock them up if they were his concubines. Nor is it that they have more strength or capability than my mother or *Madam Envoy*. It's that they conform more to the old idea of women, being even more adept at doing nothing, even more adept at not thinking-yet supremely skilled at powdering their faces. They are utterly adorable. Even someone like me, who loves nothing, must often humor them a little.'
'Education? Oh, education, education, education!' *Young Scorpion* seemed a bit mad. 'In Cat Country, except in the schools where there is no education, everywhere else is education! A grandfather's cursing, education; a father's selling of *intoxicating leaves*, education; *Madam Envoy* supervising eight living dead she-cats, education; the stinking gutters on the streets, education; soldiers beating drums on people's heads, education; the thicker the powder, the better the women's education; education is everywhere. Whenever I hear "education," I eat ten extra *intoxicating leaves*. Otherwise, I can't help but vomit!'
The human tide, as if encountering a storm, rolled towards the houses in one solid mass. *I* ran along too, though *I* knew perfectly well that returning home meant getting soaked, the house having no roof. Watching people climb the walls like madmen was quite interesting. *I* had seen obstacle races, but *I* had never seen an entire city's population scrambling up walls all at once.
Another gust of east wind came. The sky suddenly darkened. A crimson flash of lightning stretching from heaven to earth intersected with the row of houses to form a great triangle. Raindrops the size of eggs slammed down with a clap of thunder. In the distance, a swishing sound arose. The raindrops thinned. The lower sky turned bright within the grey. A cool wind. Another great flash. The sound of individual raindrops was lost. A solid curtain of rain poured down from the sky. The sky vanished. Everything vanished. Only the lightning grew fiercer. The top of the rain-curtain was suddenly sheared horizontally. A startling snake swiftly sliced a piece out of the black void, quivered twice, and disappeared. Everything was black again. By the time *I* reached the base of the wall, *I* was completely drenched.
Which was *Madam Envoy*’s room? *I* couldn't make it out. *I* stepped back a few paces, waiting for a flash to see by. Another big one came, blindingly white, like the biggest black demon in the sky occasionally opening its eye and blinking extremely fast. No use, still couldn't see clearly. *I* grew frantic. Whose room it was didn't matter. *I* would climb. Figure it out once up there. Halfway up, *I* knew by touch. This was indeed *Madam Envoy*’s room, for the wall was swaying.