Chapter 348: The Passerby Who Picks Up Scrap

When leaving the residential complex, only the little boy was there; the little girl originally lived here and has now gone home.

Zheng Tan followed not far behind the little boy; after leaving the lakeside villa area, he walked along the main road for a stretch, turned a corner, and there was a community built ten years ago where the boy's family lived.

Zheng Tan was visiting this place for the first time; compared to some communities on the old street, there wasn't much difference, perhaps those built back then were all similar.

The child's family lives on the second floor; even before entering the building, one can see a yellow-and-white spotted cat crouched on the second-floor windowsill. This should be that twelve-year-old old cat; compared to A Huang and Jingzhang, the emotion revealed in this cat's eyes is steadier, whether due to age or its own nature is unknown.

The boy glanced at the cat on the second floor, waved with a smile, then went inside. His family's cat used to be able to easily jump down from the second floor, no lock could hold it, but now it mostly stays at home, at most lounging on the windowsill to sunbathe and look outside.

Zheng Tan didn't follow him inside. Seeing that the cat on the second floor returned indoors from the windowsill after the boy entered, Zheng Tan decided to climb directly up to the second floor to take a look—after all, he is just a cat now, not a person, so he shouldn't be mistaken for a thief.

Such old-house communities are easy to climb, and moreover many residents like to install a shelter on the windows to block rainwater and also the air-conditioner drainage from upstairs residents.

After reaching the second-floor windowsill, Zheng Tan didn't go inside, but simply crouched there on the sill.

The floor area of this room isn't large, roughly comparable to the Jiao Family's home. However, this is a two-bedroom, one-living-room layout; probably old community homes like to make the bedrooms larger, making the living room appear comparatively small.

This room has no balcony; looking at the photo on the bedside table, it should be the parents' room of that child. The door isn't closed, and from the windowsill Zheng Tan can see the situation by the main door.

That old cat was crouched half a step away from the door; when it heard the familiar footsteps, its tail slowly began to sway, and it gazed at the gap beneath the door.

After the anti-theft door opened, there was no immediate sound of the wooden door opening. Instead, a long, bluish-green blade of grass protruded from the gap beneath the door—this was grass the boy had pulled from a flowerbed in the community when he came home. Just moments ago Zheng Tan had been wondering why the boy was pulling grass; he thought it was just a kid's idle habit of fiddling with something to play, but now it seems otherwise. Moreover, observing their interaction, such a scene must have happened more than once, perhaps continuing for several years.

The old cat watched the swaying blade of grass and reached out with its paw to grab it.

If it were A Huang and the others, they would have already been bouncing left and right, scratching here and there like maniacs, turning even the slightest movement into a frenzy as if they'd discovered a new continent.

This cat didn't bounce left and right; perhaps, as the boy said, it can't jump anymore, unlike young cats that love to leap about.

Although it didn't jump much, the speed of its paw strike was still relatively fast; after pulling the grass inside, the old cat bit it twice, then paid no more attention to the grass stuck on its claw, continuing to stare at the door—this time not at the gap but at the lock.

The sound of the wooden door opening rang out; the boy walked in, tossed the bowl he was holding aside, picked up the old cat, stroked its fur, and then set it down.

The parents weren't home; the child's grandmother was resting in a room, the larger room having been divided into two—one for the grandmother to sleep in, one for the child.

On the living-room dining table lay prepared dishes, still warm, while the rice was in the electric rice cooker.

Not having time to eat, the boy first took out the woven red-string ornament from his pocket and put it on his own cat.

After the woven ring was put on it, the old cat felt a little unaccustomed, rubbing against the table corner twice, but soon, soothed by the boy, it compromised and temporarily stopped rubbing.

While scratching the old cat's chin, the boy whispered, "Don't run around recklessly, don't get hurt like last time—at your age another fall wouldn't be good, you know you're not young anymore?"

As for that red string, he had no intention of telling the family the truth; if asked, he'd say it cost two bucks. If the family learned he'd spent fifty bucks on a cat accessory that doesn't even have a stone decoration, they'd surely scold him and dock his already meager pocket money.

He didn't understand the concept of benming year; he only decided to buy a red string after hearing Ni Ni mention that people in their complex were buying them, and after thinking about the older cat upstairs. He may not really believe in those things—perhaps he was just seeking psychological comfort.

While the boy was eating, the old cat seemed to want to jump onto the high stool beside him; upon reaching the stool, it eyed the tall seat, as if gauging its height, gathered its strength, then jumped—less agile than A Huang and the others. People might not notice, but Zheng Tan, being more familiar with feline movements, could discern that slight difference.

The boy picked up a piece of chicken, rolled it in the bowl to remove the surface oil and strong sauce, then gave it to the cat on the neighboring stool.

Watching the cat eat meat, Zheng Tan felt that although the cat showed obvious signs of age, it wouldn't decline rapidly; he just didn't know how many more years it had, after all, most cats live only about ten years or so, some even less.

When he turned his head, the boy noticed a black cat on the windowsill of his parents' room, but by the time he walked over, that black cat had already jumped down from the sill.

After landing, Zheng Tan glanced at the second-floor window, then walked to the flowerbed beside the building and crouched there, intending to stay a while longer.

He took a nap, and upon waking it was about 1:30 p. m.; Zheng Tan awoke after hearing the voices of two children.

They were probably kids from the same community, coming to fetch the second-floor boy to go to school together.

"Hey, Wang Xing, your cat's on the windowsill seeing you off again," one child said. "Right, how's the cat upstairs at your place?"

"It's not looking good; according to my dad, the cat upstairs is already seventeen, five years older than my own cat. Last month, while playing with a yarn ball, it even convulsed and collapsed, its legs stiffening… Once such a fat cat, now it's down to just two or three jin. Yesterday when I went upstairs, I saw the auntie upstairs using a syringe to give it water—it can't even drink on its own…" Not wanting to say more, Wang Xing then asked, "Are you still going over there this week?"

The other two kids obviously understood what Wang Xing meant by "that place," nodding, "Of course we're going—are you coming too?"

"Yeah, when you go over there, just call me."

"Fine, but don't tell your family."

"Of course, I'm still afraid my parents will find out."

After leaving the community, Zheng Tan stopped following the three kids. He was hungry, so he decided to go home and eat something first.

Zheng Tan saw the boy named Wang Xing again on Saturday.

In the morning, he followed Jiao Ba out; Jiao Ba went to the courtyard, while Zheng Tan ran around the school. Exercising the body is a must.

When he saw the three kids, each of them held a snakeskin bag already containing some empty bottles—plastic bottles, aluminum cans, and so on.

The "that place" they referred to was actually Chu Hua Da Xue.

The university's student consumption is high, so there are many empty bottles; even though the weather is still fairly cool, there are still plenty of bottles.

Zheng Tan followed not far behind, watching them pick out empty bottles one by one from trash cans or garbage piles.

While picking up bottles, the three kids chatted on the side.

The boy named Wang Xing was probably doing this for the first time, while the other two kids shared their experience with him. Besides mineral water and drink bottles, there were those aluminum cans—discussing which were aluminum, which were steel, which to collect, which to reject, which were valuable, which cheap; it was clear the two had done this sort of thing many times.

Wang Xing dragged the bag; it was originally used by his grandmother to hold bedding, later torn with several holes, but he couldn't bear to throw it away, leaving it in a corner of the miscellaneous pile for two or three years. When he retrieved it, the bag was covered in dust, likely forgotten by his grandmother there. The holes didn't matter—though numerous, they were small enough for holding bottles.

In just a half-day in the morning they could collect quite a few, then haul them to the on-campus recycling station to sell.

A full bag, after sorting and pricing the various bottles, could fetch about four yuan.

Then what do they do with the money?

Those two kids kicked the money and ran to the internet café, deciding to stay there for two or three hours in the afternoon. Zheng Tan felt speechless—was collecting bottles really just for that? Still, it counts as self-reliance, I suppose.

Wang Xing didn't go; although he also wanted to join them to play computer games, he still owed a debt, so he agreed on a time with the two and would take the bag himself to collect more bottles.

Zheng Tan had nothing else to do today, so he followed the boy behind to see just how many bottles he would end up collecting.

Walking along, they arrived behind the life sciences building, where a row of large trash bins was set up.

Wang Xing saw a few bottles inside and intended to rummage through, but just as he was about to reach in, his arm was shoved; turning his head, he saw only a black cat.

Another black cat?

Wang Xing frowned, not intending to pay it any mind, raised his hand to grab a bottle again—this time he wasn't stopped by the cat, but was shouted at by a person.

A cleaning auntie responsible for sweeping this area told Wang Xing that the contents here are dangerous and shouldn't be handled barehanded; the trash here undergoes special processing and isn't mixed with ordinary household waste.

Zheng Tan knew this as well, which is why he intervened when Wang Xing went to collect bottles.

After the cleaner left, Wang Xing glanced at the several large trash bins, turned to Zheng Tan and said, "Thanks." He now somewhat understood the black cat's earlier action.

At the back door over there, a person in a white lab coat was dragging out a large trash can; Wang Xing intended to leave first, since the bottles here are relatively dangerous, so let's go somewhere else—after all, it's not worth getting injured just to pick up bottles.

"Hei Tan!"

Wang Xing heard the voice from over there and his steps halted; he didn't know who that person was calling, but since he was picking up bottles in someone else's place, he felt a bit guilty and intended to leave quickly—yet it seemed the person over there was shouting at him.

Zheng Tan glanced at the newcomer, sighed inwardly—there was nothing to be done; you could run into acquaintances anywhere.

The one dragging out the trash can was indeed a student under Jiao Ba, the burly Su Qu, currently a second-year doctoral student; after Yi Xin graduates this year and goes abroad, he will become the senior senior brother, but his personality remains unchanged, hardly altered. People like them, after several years of master's and then doctoral study, don't see much change in temperament; compared to peers of the same age who have already entered society, their nature is still far more innocent.

"Huh, who is this kid?" Su Qu walked over, looked at the child beside Zheng Tan, and asked.

Wang Xing blushed embarrassed; it was his first time doing this, his cheek wasn't as thick as his two classmates', hesitating whether to directly answer "I'm just a passerby here to pick up scrap." (To be continued..)