Rebirth: My Life as a Cat in the Forbidden City II

“You're not him.”

I know I'm not.

“But who are you?”

Wait a second, who am I, anyway?

Before my mind could fully wake up, my body had already swiftly retreated into my little cat hole—damn muscle memory, yet so effective.

A bit embarrassing, though, as I've put on quite a bit of weight recently and almost got stuck at the entrance.

But it’s fine, no one saw.

Except for the one outside. A cat?

It loomed over me like a dark cloud. Not very big, but tall and lean. It looked somewhat wiry, but its face was pretty big, no less impressive than mine.

You eat well, don't you?

This is that cat called Youth! Just as I start eating, you come to beat me up? Wait, were you the one talking just now?

“You can talk? And you speak English?”

In shock, I blurted out a human phrase, quickly covering my mouth with my little white paw.

“A cat speaking English is strange?”

“Isn't it? Do you see other cats talking?”

“Well, you can talk, can't you?”

“I'm different, I...”

“I know.”

At that moment, I didn't even know what to say. My brain, now only the size of a fist, couldn't process such a fantastical reality quickly.

Besides, I've been hiding the fact that I'm a cat who can speak English, fearing I'd be caught by the Chinese for genetic research, dissected, or locked up as a curious specimen. I've been meowing for so long now.

And you're telling me it's not strange for a cat to speak English?

Then why do you usually just meow instead of saying, “What’s up, bro?”

At this point, the tabby cat moved closer, the shadow over me growing larger. Meanwhile, beams of sunlight filtered through its moving body, casting dappled light on my face.

“What do you want to do to me?”

“Do you have some sort of persecution complex?”

It's hard to believe such a phrase came from a cat's mouth. Sometimes I wonder if it's me or this cat that used to be human. It could've been popping champagne with Leonardo on Wall Street, while I was rummaging through leftovers on Arthur Avenue.

“From a few months ago, you suddenly became dazed and started doing weird things, like making human-like exclamations, walking on your hind legs, touching your face with your front paws for a long time, and banging your head against a tree. That's when I started suspecting you.”

“But after that, you went back to normal. Until recently, you always hang around English-speaking tourists and listen intently to them. That's when I confirmed you don’t belong here. Your acting skills are quite impressive.”

As it spoke, its pupils narrowed into slits, and its mouth seemed to flicker like a snake’s tongue, drawing closer.

I retreated further into my hole.

“You realized I understood English and knew I wasn’t this orange tabby.”

“Because you walk with your feet turned outward, and a cat never walks with its feet turned outward.”

Nonsense!

“I’ve seen a cat that walks with its feet turned outward.”

“What do you want to do to me?” I gulped and cautiously asked again.

“I told you, tell me who you are. And where did he go?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how I ended up here. I was walking down the street, and a car hit me. A woman—yes, a Chinese woman—did some magic, and here I am. I don’t even have a Chinese visa. Do we need a visa to enter China? I don’t know where the original cat went either. Maybe its soul is wandering in America? Oh, could it be that we swapped bodies?”

As I babbled in fear, the cat suddenly placed its paw on my head.

“Calm down, you silly human. Now, I'm going to suck out your brain.”