After most areas on Earth became polluted zones, traveling became an extremely dangerous and likely fatal activity.
For the little cat who grew up in South Island City, she had never seen tall mountains or wide rivers. Grasslands and snow-covered mountains were all very novel things to her; as for Zhu Yan, he had been to many polluted zones, but always in too much of a rush.
They didn’t have a fixed destination, it was just that the little cat said she wanted to see snow-covered mountains, so the two of them headed north.
Their means of transportation were very simple. If there was a train, they took the train. If there was no train, they looked for abandoned vehicles in the polluted zones. If neither was available, their means of transport became the mermaid.
Food was easy to resolve. Because no matter where they went, the mermaid could always find prey.
The little cat brought enough cold-resistant bedding and clothing, and a very large tent. With the experience from the last time they crossed a polluted zone, the journey became quite pleasant.
But there were also dangerous times. They would often encounter some pollutants. Zhu Yan would then start a killing spree. Occasionally, the scene would look a bit bloody. Every time during such moments, the little cat would curl up in the car and start watching a movie. Usually, by the time the movie ended, her lover would have already dealt with the pollutants.
When Zhu Yan returned to the car, they would catch the ending together just in time, and exchange some commentary. However, occasionally, they would also accidentally stumble into a pollutant’s nest. The scenes then would become quite spectacular.
They walked and stopped along the way, traveling from the snowy south all the way to the north.
All along the way, the little cat harbored a secret: perhaps because she realized life was limited, and that she could only accompany him through a portion of his life, she decided to leave him with enough beautiful memories to sustain the rest of his life.
The little cat believed that by harboring this secret, she became the deeper one between the two of them. Sometimes, she would look at the mermaid, shake her head, and sigh, thinking: This really is an innocent and carefree fish.
But Zhu Yan described it like this in his diary:
[ “The little cat has started sighing at me often, like a gas canister that occasionally lets out air.”]
During the two months of walking and stopping, Shu Tang would often stare at the mermaid in a daze. She believed the mermaid could not possibly guess her thoughts. But clearly, Zhu Yan had already noticed some clues.
He wrote in his diary:
[“Suddenly discovered the little cat’s secret. Because the little cat started going to bed early and waking up early, soaking goji berries in a thermos cup, and even started exercising. She seems to be cherishing life more.”
“I noticed this because I too have started fearing death.”
“The little cat probably thinks she can only live a normal human life. She’s worried about leaving me alone.”
“For me, the day I met her was the beginning of a new life. I am a solitary, reclusive monster, and all my attachment to life stems from the little cat’s love.”]
When it came to the matter of lifespan, this monster would calmly choose to die together with the little cat—this was beyond doubt.
This secret didn’t stay a secret for long.
Because soon after, Zhu Yan brought up the topic himself.
Actually, Shu Tang had more or less guessed it, but when she heard the mermaid’s response, the little cat let out a sigh. She didn’t refute, nor did she try to persuade him.
She thought: Counting the time, sixty-some years is still a very long, long time—enough to leave behind many beautiful memories.
Who can say for sure what will happen in the future?
She decided to wait until she was thirty, forty years old, more mature and wiser, before thinking about how to solve this problem.
…
By the time they reached their vehicle and gradually saw the snow-capped mountain’s pointed peak, it was already the spring of the following year.
Feeling the chill wind brushing past their ears, they got off the car.
At the foot of the snow mountain, there was a small town where humans gathered. This was still considered a polluted zone, but because of its special geographic location, many people who had strayed into the polluted zones had gathered here. After generations of reproduction and life, it had become this snow mountain town.
The buildings in the town were all made of a combination of hard stone and wood, with cooking smoke curling upward.
However, beneath such a sacred and beautiful snow mountain, the town not only housed simple and honest natives but also some utterly vicious individuals. They burned, killed, and looted, targeting innocent survivors passing through the area on their way to the base.
The only inn in town was a black inn that specialized in robbery and illicit dealings.
Then, on a spring morning, a very strange couple visited this inn. When they intended to make a move on this little couple, they suddenly saw a terrifying scene: the tall man, speaking softly to the girl, suddenly had a massive creature appear behind him.
“He” slowly turned his head, and his gloomy gaze swept across the innkeepers. The shadowy darkness behind him descended like a tidal wave.
That night, a scream of “Monster!” came from within the black inn. Immediately after, someone rolled and crawled their way out. They ran for their lives, frantically trying to escape that tidal darkness, nearly crawling as they fled into the most dangerous part of the polluted zone, as if something terrifying was chasing close behind them.
Later, a “Snow Mountain Horror Tale” began circulating in the town.
But at the time, when Shu Tang heard a scream, she poked her head out and asked the mermaid what had happened. The mermaid said there were mice on the first floor. The little cat instantly darted up onto the mermaid’s shoulder.
—It was quite strange. Although she was a cat, she was a little afraid of mice and really hated bugs.
…
They ended up staying in that inn.
—Even though the innkeeper and the staff had all disappeared without a trace.
But Shu Tang only complained a bit about their poor sense of service and didn’t dig into where they had gone.
The inn’s interior decor was refined and cozy, with a warm fireplace and beautiful flooring that creaked as one walked. Their room faced the snowy mountain outside, and the view was incredibly picturesque.
Shu Tang and the mermaid decided to spend the rest of their vacation here.
But on the first night in the inn, Shu Tang noticed something unusual about her body temperature. At first, she thought she had caught a cold from the cold weather. So she rummaged in the kitchen and found a pot. That afternoon, the mermaid made her ginger tea by the fireplace.
But soon, Shu Tang felt that something seemed off with her spiritual body, so she released it for a look.
—Shu Tang’s spiritual body was very small, but now, it had grown one size larger.
From a small, fluffy orange kitten, it had grown to the size of a Maine Coon.
She was stunned.
Then, when she went to take a bath, she discovered a small scratch on her calf.
As a healer, Shu Tang immediately realized the problem. She suspected that she had been infected by a pollutant.
They had traveled through polluted zones the whole way. She wasn’t sure if some pollutant blood had splashed onto her. With this level of exposure, in theory, there shouldn’t be any danger—but there was still a one-in-a-thousand chance.
At that moment, the little cat thought: It’s over. Could she really be that one-in-a-thousand unlucky one?
She didn’t tell her lover.
Because even if she did, it wouldn’t change anything. Currently, there was no medicine that could treat it. The only way was to rely on strong willpower. At present, the only person who could defeat pollutants was Zhu Yan. Other than him, among the living, there were no exceptions.
The little cat was a bit afraid of death, and a bit panicked.
—The little cat knew she wasn’t someone with particularly strong willpower.
She sat in the bathroom for a long time, until her lover knocked on the door outside, asking if she had finished washing.
At that moment, the little cat felt a bit of a nose-sting.
She thought of Little Rose, thought of her parents. The little cat felt she could still fight against it.
She made a decision in the bathroom:
She had made up her mind—she would have the coldest, most ruthless fight with the pollutant. She would, like the old man in Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea, summon iron-like willpower to defeat the pollutant.
The little cat came out of the bath pretending as if nothing had happened, hugged the tall monster’s waist, buried her head in his chest, and rubbed against him with a mix of grievance and discomfort.
About that day, Zhu Yan wrote this note in his diary:
[“On the first day of arriving at the snow mountain town, the little cat had a slight fever. Gave her medicine and monitored her condition. Fed her ginger tea.
After bathing, she suddenly told me she wanted to develop a will of steel, and emotionally began reciting The Stormy Petrel, asking me—as the family of a hero—to provide her with mental strength.
I don’t know what the little cat wants to fight.
Maybe roast chicken.
Or the mouse downstairs.
But for some reason, I felt the little cat seemed a little sad.”]
…
Vacationing here was undoubtedly a good choice.
During the day, they would stroll through the town, shop for some ingredients and daily goods at the nearby market, and then wander in the nearby forest, stepping on the soft snow to see the deer.
In front of the inn, Shu Tang built a very ugly fish out of snow.
The mermaid thought that ugly thing was Zhen Zhen.
Later, he realized Shu Tang had built an even uglier cat next to it.
Although he still felt it was so ugly he couldn’t bear to look at it—
Early in the morning, Zhu Yan still wrapped a pair of red couple scarves around the two snowmen.
In the mornings, they watched the sunrise over the peak of the snow mountain together; at sunset, they made mushroom soup and chatted about little things.
Time passed slowly just like that.
Only, Shu Tang’s strong willpower didn’t seem to be working. Her low fever went away, but the abnormal state of her spiritual body never disappeared.
When she looked at the snow mountain, she would often think of death.
She was a bit afraid that if she died, what would happen to Little Rose?
She recalled the dream she once had—where the mermaid turned into a chaotic natural disaster, a terrifying evil god. He would lose himself and completely forget who he was.
But she couldn’t think of any solution.
Until the weekend of that week, when the mailman delivered a forwarded letter. It had first been sent to the Bastille, and then forwarded by people from the sanatorium to the snow mountain town.
After two years, the polluted zone they had once crossed on their way to Yanshi for treatment had been reactivated. Gradually, people began to return there, and the abandoned post office was finally opened up, with letters compressed and held for years being unearthed. Some letter recipients had already died, and naturally the letters could no longer be delivered; but those who were still alive were surprised to receive mail that had taken years to reach them.
Shu Tang and Zhu Yan opened the letter together in front of the fireplace.
Back then, when they headed to Yan City, they had both thought it might be a farewell.
The little cat had said that her greatest wish was to go with him once more to see the Begonias Still Awake, but she didn’t know if he would still remember her by then.
The mermaid had believed the little cat would no longer cherish him, that she would abandon him once he was cured. So, in the letter, he had confessed his feelings to the little cat.
Two years later, they were already married. Looking back at those feelings from their passionate love, the two of them fell silent for a while. Then they naturally exchanged a kiss.
They talked about the past, and night slowly fell over the quiet little town.
…
Inspired by this incident, Shu Tang decided to seize every minute and start writing letters to the mermaid.
She decided to write many, many letters—twelve months in a year, one letter to Little Rose each month.
She felt that she might be close to being parasitized by the pollutant.
So, in the letters, she pitifully and emotionally told the mermaid that she really loved him, told him how much she loved his silvery-white long hair, and his beautiful fish tail.
She also began to seriously self-reflect. The careless little cat had never analyzed herself like this before—she apologized to him, saying that she always ignored him, always lacked patience, often bullied him, and brushed him off.
She also told the mermaid that during Qingming Festival, Valentine’s Day, and New Year’s, he must come visit her.
The offerings she wanted to eat were as follows:
Braised scallops, tuna, coconut chicken, garlic-flavored oysters…
Of course, he must also burn a lot, a lot of money for her. Otherwise, if she worked as a healer underground, her monthly salary might only be three thousand.
In the letters, she nagged the mermaid to remember to carry an umbrella, to watch out for lumbar disc herniation, and to make more red date soup and the like.
However, after burying her head and writing hard for several days, the little cat realized that no matter how much she racked her brains, she could only write 120 letters.
But in 100 years, there are 1,200 months—she needed to write 1,200 letters.
…
Very soon, Shu Tang started having a low-grade fever again.
She realized that she might not have much time left.
She didn’t really want to make Little Rose sad, or let him see that kind of scene. She felt that would be a very cruel thing. So, the little cat decided to find a quiet place to wait for death.
—It had to be said, when it came to their attitude toward death, her choice was surprisingly aligned with the mermaid’s.
However, unlike the mermaid, Shu Tang went to the market and bought a lot of “burial items”—things like all kinds of snacks, drinks, her favorite game cartridges. She also took with her a bag of pearls the mermaid had given her, some beautiful scales, and of course, the wedding ring.
She also wrote a very long letter to Cat Dad and Cat Mom, and in her letters to the mermaid, she entrusted him to take good care of Cat Dad and Cat Mom.
Near the snow mountain, she found a pit that was just the right size. Opposite the pit was the snow mountain—the scenery was beautiful, and Shu Tang felt it was just right.
However, before death arrived, she still wanted to spend time with the mermaid.
So on that day, the monster noticed his little cat had become even more affectionate.
While he was cooking, she slipped into his arms, kissed him sweetly, and when washing her face, she rubbed bubbles on him. She also began humming the tune of Rose, Rose, I Love You, looking at him with smiling eyes.
After they finished shopping and walked through the door, she kissed him eagerly.
Zhu Yan hesitated for a moment, looked down at the little cat’s flushed cheeks for a while, then firmly picked her up and threw her onto the bed.
Then pinned her down on the bed.
The silk nightgown slipped from the bend of her knee to the carpet.
But it was not the lingering passion she had hoped for.
Instead, he asked in a low voice, forcing her to explain the reason for her abnormal behavior during this time.
—After all, he had once been a great leader. His powers of observation were far beyond those of ordinary people. Besides, they already knew each other well enough.
That night, she clung to her resolve not to speak, determined to resist to the death.
So Zhu Yan was silent for a while, then slowly took off his gloves, deciding to resort to “severe interrogation.”
…
In the end, the whole thing turned out to be a huge misunderstanding.
Of course, the little cat didn’t die.
But she paid a bit of a price for her stubborn refusal. When she lay in his arms, eyes swollen from crying, and poured out everything to him, Zhu Yan finally learned the whole story.
The monster’s heart softened. On that winter night, it seemed to have melted into something tender and pliant, melting in front of this piece of candy.
He reminded the little cat of one thing.
And Shu Tang finally recalled some details she had overlooked.
—Her spiritual body, the Big Chicken Leg, really liked the scent of the mermaid’s spiritual body, so it often secretly took a few bites. Because the mermaid said she could bite as she pleased, after marriage, she bit even more frequently.
But that’s where the problem came in: the mermaid’s spiritual body was constantly evolving and had already become distinctly different from others.
The little cat, who had taken many bites of the Big Fish, naturally began to experience some changes.
That night, they came to a conclusion:
She might not have been infected by a pollutant—but instead had evolved.
This big misunderstanding made the little cat very angry, mainly because she had been subjected to “severe interrogation,” and had felt sad for a long time. But at least, the issue that had long troubled the two of them—lifespan—was finally resolved. Shu Tang also let go of the long-standing worry in her heart.
They still didn’t know what the endpoint of evolution would be.
But through this coincidental twist of fate, they had formed a strange and wonderful bond—one that began to intertwine their lives.
It was something truly worth celebrating.
Because neither of them would have to watch the other die, nor walk the rest of the path alone.
Death was not scary.
What they feared was leaving the other behind.
As long as they continued to accompany each other, whether through storms or to the ends of the world—even the most timid little cat would not feel afraid.
…
After this misunderstanding was resolved, Shu Tang gained a deeply memorable life lesson: don’t keep things hidden. It’s very easy to create misunderstandings, and even lead to some heavy consequences.
For example, after discovering she wouldn’t die, the first thing she did was to rush to the snow mountain town’s post office, trying to retrieve those 120 letters.
But the letters had already been sent to the Bastille, and then forwarded by the sanatorium.
Shu Tang had sent a total of 120 scheduled letters.
So, that also meant Zhu Yan would receive a love letter from the little cat every month—
For a full ten years.
Because she wrote them with the mindset of “I’m going to die,” the letters were incredibly mushy and cheesy. She even revealed many of her little secrets to Zhu Yan.
As a result, every time she saw the mailman arrive, she would rush downstairs, trying to snatch those letters away to see if any of her love letters were mixed in.
But stealing the letters was absolutely impossible.
The mermaid was too tall—he only had to lazily raise his hand a little higher, and she couldn’t reach them at all.
She could only jump up and down, issuing verbal threats, while furiously watching that fish sit by the window, tearing open the pile of letters, and precisely picking out her love letters.
This matter was, in Shu Tang’s opinion, her personal Waterloo—a lifelong black mark on her record.
But Zhu Yan really liked those letters. Every single one was carefully preserved.
In the countless years afterward, those letters were taken out and read again and again in the middle of the night, until they turned yellow and brittle.
Zhu Yan wrote in his diary:
[“The little cat says it’s unfair, because she wrote me 120 love letters.
But I never wrote even one for her.
Silly cat.
How does she know I didn’t?”]
…
For the entire vacation, Shu Tang brooded over this.
On one day of the month—
She accidentally knocked over a suitcase, and out fell a thick notebook.
She recognized it as the one he always used to write recipes in.
But when she opened it, she discovered it was Zhu Yan’s diary.
She was very curious—especially since she had just committed herself to ten years of black history—
The little cat sneakily opened it.
Hoping she could find some leverage over her lover.
Only to see, neatly written at the top of the page:
To my dearest little cat.
…
She had a beautiful dream.
When she woke up, the sky had just begun to brighten.
They went into the mountains together.
There was a beautiful sunrise on the snow mountain.
In the glow of dawn, they gradually leaned into each other.
Together for a lifetime.
This is our long, long love letter through the years.
Translator’s Note:
So this is the end of the extra for the main text. The next extras are like IF lines, I might do that gradually?