Chapter 323

Zheng Tan here, before coming, Jiao Ba had told him to play dumb when necessary.

What does 'when necessary' mean?

For example, when he doesn't want to shoot a scene, doesn't want to work with someone, finds a location unsuitable, feels unwell or has an urgent need to urinate, etc., he can play dumb, act as if he doesn't know how to perform, or simply roll on the spot—after all, he's a cat; how high a standard can the crew hold a cat to? Let the team handle the troublesome matters; Xiao Guo sending so many people over isn't just to make up numbers, and Zheng Tan would never believe that there's no private agreement between Xiao Guo and Jiao Ba.

But this is for his own good; Zheng Tan understands that being smart is fine, but acting too smart arouses suspicion, and to avoid unnecessary trouble, sometimes it's safer to play dumb.

Many shots Zheng Tan wouldn't have taken before, but this time he endured it; after all, this documentary differs from advertisements, consuming great manpower and material resources, and since he accepted the job he must be responsible; moreover, these shots are quite ordinary for an average cat, so refusing to perform really isn't an option.

Wearing all that makeup made Zheng Tan uncomfortable, and he had to touch up from time to time, especially if the eyebrows and whiskers got smudged unintentionally, needing reapplication; after all, Zheng Tan's whiskers are black, while the cat's whiskers in the photo are white.

Fortunately, Zheng Tan's efficiency is relatively high, so the whole shoot took far less time than Yang Yi had planned.

The crew thought shooting these would take a long time, but they didn't expect this cat to be so cooperative; in their view, the cat's intelligence is naturally one factor, but more so because the few who came along are said to be a specialized cat‑care team. During breaks, the crew even pulled the team members Xiao Guo sent over to exchange experiences, little knowing that those few were laughing so hard their faces were almost stiff, and they dared not speak freely about certain facts, having signed several contracts, and they would just respond as Xiao Guo instructed.

Now Zheng Tan doesn't know how well he performed; he can only gauge from Yang Yi's expression whether it meets the standard, and the concrete effect will only be known after final production. The elderly person acting opposite Zheng Tan, seen from the side, looks somewhat like Yang Yi's grandfather, of course also made up to resemble him more, plus some filming techniques. Zheng Tan believes that once the final product is out, it should satisfy Yang Yi.

In this process Zheng Tan also came into contact with some items commonly used back then, such as furnace‑ash cat litter. At that time almost every household burned coal; it was convenient to clean up. There were also handmade cat flaps. Residents of the courtyard houses made them for those pesky little rascals constantly coming and going, cutting a half‑square‑foot hole and hanging a cloth curtain. Larger, plumper cats would have the opening made bigger. There was hardly any high technology, yet they worked quite well.

Besides Zheng Tan, Daomi and Xiaomi also made cameo appearances, as Yang Yi wanted to film scenes of the cats playing and being lively in their daily lives.

In this, Xiaomi pleased Yang Yi greatly; that fellow, even alone, can instantly get high, behaving almost like a split personality—kicking and scratching itself, biting its paw pads, racing back and forth along the narrow wall; after having fun, it curls its tail into an S shape and raises it, its anus facing the sunset, does a butt‑up stretch, then starts calling for food.

During filming everyone joined in the fun. Zhao Le's mother even came to the set in person, not minding at all her own cat losing face, and instead felt that cats ought to be like that. Zheng Tan could see that Zhao Le's mother valued Xiaomi highly; it seems Xiaomi really suits her taste.

As for Daomi, although it wasn't stage‑frightened, it was comparatively too calm and quiet, just standing still on the high wall; Yang Yi didn't know what to do, after all this cat was requested by Fang Shaokang, so they had to film something.

"Are these two really brothers?" asked a crew member, referring to Xiaomi and Daomi.

"Daomi is a girl!" Fang Mengmeng said, her ears perking up as she corrected him upon hearing.

"Oh, a girl, quite demure." The crew member chuckled, not knowing cats well and unsure how to judge gender from markings; after laughing he looked at Fang Mengmeng and said, "Can you get your Daomi to give a coy smile?"

A coy smile?

Can a cat do a coy smile?

Fang Mengmeng teased Daomi from below the wall for a while; the cat perched on the wall finally moved, its front paws tapping twice in place, it straightened its back, looked down, and finally forced out a creepy "smile".

The entire crew watching: "……"

Damn, that's terrifying!

Several people unconsciously scratched their arms, feeling goosebumps rise.

Fang Mengmeng didn't think much of it, since Daomi is usually only natural around familiar people; when unnatural, it either goes blank or shows this expression, and the worse its mood, the more pronounced it becomes—Fang Shaokang knows this well.

Now Daomi probably feels there are too many strangers below the wall and the atmosphere is a bit gloomy; unlike Xiaomi it isn't very active, and it doesn't usually stretch its paws when outside; even after Fang Mengmeng teased it for a while it didn't extend its paws, so its mood can only be read from facial expression. Of course, what just happened might not truly be Daomi's smile—just a change in its face and mouth that looks like a smile—but continuing further would only yield the same.

"Alright, that shot will do; every cat is different, we need to capture both quality and character." Yang Yi was quite pleased, having at least shot something new and also being able to report to Fang Shaokang.

When this segment ended, Xiaomi was taken away by Zhao Le's mother; before leaving, Zheng Tan overheard her chatting with someone nearby about Daomi, saying in a relieved tone that it was good they brought back Xiaomi, otherwise encountering a cat like Daomi would probably be depressing.

As for Daomi, Fang Mengmeng felt even more fortunate to have chosen Daomi—Xiaomi is too much of a handful, whereas their Daomi is obedient.

Perhaps some people say other people's cats are always good, but even when praising others' cats, in a cat lover's heart the top spot is always their own cat, whether it's a troublemaker or a quiet one—people love their own cats.

This documentary isn't limited to Yang Yi's grandfather's stories; the crew also interviewed other people. Although those later interviews didn't involve Zheng Tan, he still couldn't leave, as some shots might need reshooting, so he had to stay a bit longer just in case, thus he followed them to see the interviewees.

The first stop was the home of an elderly writer, where both the old man and old woman were present.

The interview was fairly casual, taking place in the elders' home. Their children often weren't around, so the couple kept a cat—now a white domestic cat. When they saw Zheng Tan, the cat was curious and wary, constantly hiding beside the old couple and staring at him.

Zheng Tan wandered around the house; the cat showed no reaction, merely stretching its neck to stare at him until Zheng Tan approached its cat bed. When he neared its food bowl, the cat's fur stood on end. It lunged forward, arched its back, and swiped at Zheng Tan with a low growl.

"Ah, don't worry, that black cat won't fight." Yang Yi soothed the slightly worried old lady, then asked the two elders when they could begin.

After Zheng Tan left its food bowl and bed, the cat immediately ran back to the old couple.

The two elders didn't know how many interviews they'd undergone, so they could handle this calmly; the director wouldn't deliberately instruct them how to act.

While the old lady read and cooked, and the old gentleman wrote, listened to the radio, and during all this the cat's reactions were also filmed.

When the old gentleman wrote, the cat would jump onto his desk to cause trouble, trampling his manuscript pages back and forth; pushing it aside didn't work, and if pushed further it would simply lie down on the paper, unless the old lady called it, whereupon it would slowly rise.

The old gentleman wasn't annoyed; he laughed, using the tail end of his pen to scratch the chin of the cat lying on his manuscript: "This fellow is arrogant—whenever I sit here it comes over to bully me… my wife? My wife doesn't say anything about it, instead she even lets me write something to praise it…"

Looking at the old gentleman, there was no sign of resentment or annoyance from being bullied; on the contrary, he was quite delighted.

The old gentleman said that literati in the capital like to keep cats, and gave a few examples of his contemporaries.

In literati's writings, the cats of the capital are somewhat like spoiled young masters who have everything, although nowadays most have shifted from being rat‑catching laborers who earn room and board to becoming pets in high‑rise apartments that eat, drink, and play, yet their inherent old‑fashioned charm remains undiminished; they care not whether the person before them is a literary luminary or a common townsfolk.

What kind of virtue does Chu Hua's cat have? Zheng Tan thought about the few cats he knew; upon reflection, they seemed each a bit special, perhaps also embodying the representativeness of Chu Hua's cat.

Besides this current cat, the elders also recalled the cats they had kept before, and the old lady produced a photo album to show everyone.

During the interview, the two elders often drifted into reminiscence, sometimes just thinking silently, as if forgetting that people were still filming around them, resulting in several silent pauses. Yet neither Yang Yi nor the other crew members turned off the camera or interrupted, and their faces showed no impatience.

Before coming, Zheng Tan had been told by Cha Li about this situation, presumably Yang Yi's instructions. After each silent pause, the elders' words became more vivid, genuine, and lifelike. When speaking of the previous cat, the old lady's eyes reddened several times; that cat had accompanied the two elders for over ten years, a peaceful passing.

Next the crew interviewed a master of traditional Chinese painting; during the interview the elder produced a painting covered in cat paw prints. At that time the old gentleman was painting fish, but his cat jumped onto the desk and caused a mess, stepping everywhere with ink stains. The old man later retouched the painting, then had it mounted and framed, keeping it as a collection; when guests came and talked about related topics, he would take out the painting to show off, saying his cat had considerable artistic talent.

Zheng Tan also went over to look at that painting; needless to say, it looked quite evocative—no wonder it's by a master of traditional Chinese painting, just like the film about Tang Bohu from years ago that always manages to turn decay into marvel.

The cinematographer is very good at catching details, and those details make the whole film more vivid and full of soul.

Throughout the shoot, among the cat owners interviewed were artists, educators, people who had visited several prestigious schools and libraries in the capital, as well as ordinary households. Zheng Tan followed them through streets and alleys, encountering varied settings, diverse cat owners, cats of different temperaments, all united together; plus the professional production and polishing, Zheng Tan believes this will be a fine film—regardless of how others see it, he himself considers it excellent.

According to the crew, once finished the film will likely be sent to compete in a contest, but completion won't be until next year, and it's already year‑end. (To be continued…)