Chapter 541: Automatic Household Troublemaker

There was a time when rats plagued the neighborhood, so the property management hired several stray cats to serve as Black Cat Police Officers.

This cat was one of those cats, and because of its gray-black fur,

it was naturally named Xiao Hui.

Zhang Jie occasionally tossed it some cat food or sausage,

and the little creature naturally regarded his residence as its territory, coming by almost every day to patrol.

Zhang Jie didn’t blame the cat for interrupting his cultivation.

On one hand, his daily cultivation didn’t cause him to lose control or suffer major Qi damage from minor disturbances,

and he could resume sitting and refining Qi at any moment.

On the other hand, cats, by nature, are restless creatures,

famed as “automatic household troublemakers”—so for it to do this was entirely within Zhang Jie’s expectations.

Cat: Alias: Automatic Household Troublemaker.

1. Six a.m. smart alarm (?);

2. Voice-controlled? No;

3. Floor cleaner (?);

4. Sofa antiquer (?);

…

Cats were not only automatic household troublemakers in modern times; their antics in ancient times were no less notorious.

As early as the Tang Dynasty, cats had become household pets.

The Zizhi Tongjian records that Wu Zetian kept a cat, which coexisted peacefully with her parrot,

so she proudly showed off her pet to her ministers.

But before she could finish, the cat, perhaps feeling hungry,

ate the parrot it had been displaying,

leaving Wu Zetian deeply embarrassed.

The Nan Tang Shu records that Li Yu’s son, Li Zhongxuan, was playing in the Buddhist hall

when a large cat passed by, knocked over and shattered the glass lamp before the Buddha statue,

scaring Li Zhongxuan into illness, and he died shortly after.

The Wanli Ye Mao Bianzuan also records that during the Ming Dynasty, the imperial palace kept many cats, which ran, jumped,

and fought noisily, terrifying newborn princes and princesses into “convulsive illnesses.”

The Zhuozhongzhi even claims that many imperial infants died from fright caused by cat cries.

Besides controlling the population of royal heirs,

cats also interfered with cultivation and alchemy.

The Sun Sheng Tan Pu records that Su Zhe, on a whim, decided to pursue immortality and set up a large furnace to refine pills,

but his cat walked over, urinated on the furnace, and strolled away calmly.

Su Zhe lost all motivation and abandoned cultivation forever.

What ill intent could a little cat possibly have? It just wanted him to focus on advancing his official rank

so he could rescue his unlucky brother Su Shi—who kept getting exiled~~

…

The Ming official Hu Shi also kept a cat, but this little cat didn’t catch rats; instead, it ate his chickens.

Furious, Hu Shi summoned the cat before him and recited a “Cat-Scolding Essay” that survives to this day.

“Cat-Scolding Essay”

I have had a white rooster for a long time.

Recently, it perched on a tree top and was devoured by a cat. I called the cat forward and scolded it:

Hey! You cat! You have no other duty but to catch mice—that’s the ancient way,

yet you neglect your duty to catch mice, and instead devour the bird that crows at dawn.

Your crime is not merely negligence.

Hey! You cat! Rats have their kind, and so do you—numerous. Some climb ceilings,

some shake door hinges, some climb beds, some sip from cups, some overturn boxes, some tear paintings.

At such times, if you merely waited a moment, you could have satisfied your hunger without leaving the room, and removed the threat.

But if not, you just lie on the ground howling—though you fail to exterminate rats, your cries still frighten them into hiding.

Yet you pay no heed, vanishing without a trace.

I never imagined you would sneak through high walls, leap over fences, climb through kitchens, scale branches, snap twigs,

and expend so much effort to kill one chicken. Rats harm people, yet you protect them;

the rooster possesses five virtues, yet you slaughter it. What fortune for the rat, what injustice for the chicken?

…

An old monk at Wanshou Temple in the Ming Dynasty also had insights on keeping cats.

He told guests that his cat possessed five virtues:

Not catching mice—that’s benevolence;

Even when mice steal his food, he ignores it—that’s righteousness;

He won’t appear when guests arrive, only emerging when food is presented—that’s propriety;

No matter how well-hidden the food, he always finds and eats it—that’s wisdom;

Every winter, he curls up under the stove for warmth—that’s faithfulness.

Only a cat could earn such a weary yet affectionate evaluation.

The famous poet Lu You wrote many mediocre poems complaining about cats, then wrote many excellent ones praising them,

such as the famous line: “The fire is soft, the wool blanket warm—I won’t leave the house with my cat.” He felt guilty for not feeding his cat well.

“Late at night, lying awake, I hear wind and rain; iron horses and icy rivers enter my dreams.” Looking back now,

did Lu You get stepped on by his cat running back and forth while he slept?

After all, from the consistent behavior of cats, their contribution to the low survival rate of ancient porcelain is undeniable.

The Daoist emperor Jiajing also loved cats. He kept a lion cat named Qing Mei, said to be exceptionally beautiful,

adored it while alive, slept with it, let it lead him outside, ate with it—he was utterly devoted.

When it died, he wailed and wept, buried it in a golden coffin, and ordered court ministers to compose memorial essays in Daoist verse.

Yuan Wei’s line “transformed lion into dragon” rocketed him from Hanlin Academy straight to Grand Secretary of the Jianji Palace in seven years,

making him the fastest-rising chancellor in Ming history—clearly, Jiajing’s love for cats ran deep.

When an animal has many flaws yet endures, you know its strengths must be extraordinary.

It’s just too cute—cats truly deserve to bow to their modelers.

Of course, ancient people kept and loved cats—first, because their models were perfect; second, because they were excellent rat-catchers.

Today’s house cats rarely catch rats, so their only remaining virtue is their model.

But Zhang Jie himself felt the deaths of princes and princesses couldn’t be blamed entirely on Haki Mi.

Haki Mi isn’t the kind of creature that easily dies from fright.

Of course, saying cats scare people to death is exaggerated—but their mating cries are genuinely terrifying,

and with ancient superstitions, those cries in the dead of night could truly unsettle the mind.

As for why such records exist, it’s likely they were blaming Haki Mi to shift responsibility.

In a palace full of people and gossip, blaming an animal for nonsense was perfectly normal.

In a world without surveillance, after killing someone, you could claim they went mad and jumped into the water—you’d have the final word.

Later, more scientific research showed that those infants

mostly died from their own illnesses or unsafe medicines (such as those containing lead or mercury).

If you must blame the cat, it was only that its cries startled the child, accelerating death.

After all, if cats could scare children to death daily, they’d have been exterminated long ago—how could they have multiplied?

Moreover, palace cats in the Forbidden City have lived well for centuries, and many descendants of Ming palace cats still exist today.

“But this constant interruption of my cultivation won’t do.”

Zhang Jie stroked his chin, his gaze toward Xiao Hui growing dangerous:

“Should I have him neutered?”

He’d heard neutered cats become much calmer.

Zhang Jie picked up his phone and searched online—and found exactly as he expected:

Neutered female cats no longer howl cyclically, become agitated, or try to escape to find mates.

Male cats’ territorial marking behaviors, like spraying urine everywhere,

and aggression or tendency to run away due to seeking mates, greatly decrease.

He glanced down and behind Xiao Hui, realizing it was a male kitten,

and removing those two little balls would turn it into a gentle little cat…

“Meow!”

Xiao Hui sensed the impending danger—his eyes sharpened, fur bristled, and he entered Spine-Drake Mode.

Unfortunately, it was not the Elder Emperor, and could not escape Zhang Jie’s grasp, seized instantly by the nape of fate.