Chapter 5: The Beckoning Cat

The Du family owned four acres of melon fields. The grandfather and grandson were picking melons in the field. Wang Peng only picked the large ones, ignoring the small ones, and Du Geda smiled faintly, not minding.

Before long, Du Liu arrived, pulling a cart. He unloaded the scale from the cart and rolled up his sleeves to help weigh and load the melons.

After two hours of hard work, the three of them filled a cart with watermelons.

Du Liu handed the ledger to Wang Peng. “Top scorer, check if my calculations are correct.”

Wang Peng took the ledger and quickly tallied the numbers. Smiling, he said, “Not bad. A total of 523 jin. The village chief really knows his stuff.”

“Of course! Do you think anyone can be village chief?” Du Liu boasted. “Young man, you’re impressive too, daring to do business at such a young age.”

“When I was your age, I was still running around barefoot herding cattle. Young people nowadays are truly remarkable,” Du Geda gave a thumbs up.

Feeling shy from their praise, Wang Peng took it as a compliment and pulled out money from his pouch to pay.

“Top scorer, I’ll give you a discount. Let’s count this cart as only 500 jin. How about that?” Du Geda was pleased.

He had already proven to the village chief that he was not mistaken; the village chief was guilty of mistrusting a gentleman’s intentions.

“Thank you, Uncle. That’s very generous of you,” Wang Peng quickly expressed his gratitude.

The kind-hearted old man essentially gave away 23 jin of watermelon for free, equivalent to two yuan and thirty cents.

That morning, Wang Peng had earned 123 yuan and eighty-five cents. Now, only 15 yuan and 500 jin of watermelon remained—still far from his small goal of covering tuition fees.

However, he was confident about the future.

There were still many watermelons here, and both parties had established a cooperative relationship. As long as nothing unexpected happened, reaching his goal would not be a problem.

The sun set behind the western hills, casting a red glow across the sky. When night fell, Wang Peng pulled the watermelon cart under the railway culvert to spend the night.

He did not eat dinner, cutting a slice of watermelon to satisfy his hunger and thirst.

Suddenly, two green lights appeared outside the culvert, staring directly at him.

“Meow, meow…”

“A stray cat?” Wang Peng laughed. “You want some watermelon too?”

The stray cat kept meowing, likely attracted by the watermelon scent.

He cut a piece and placed it at the culvert entrance. “Here you go, kitty. Don’t forget to bring me wealth.”

In traditional Chinese culture, cats are considered symbols of wealth, and the image of the lucky cat is deeply ingrained.

After some time, the cat slowly approached, meowed twice, and began eating the watermelon.

---

Wang Peng spread two woven sacks on the ground, curled up, and lay down. When he woke up the next day, his whole body ached.

“This won’t do. After selling the melons, I’ll rent a place.” He stretched and packed up the sacks, ready to move.

Sleeping outdoors like this could easily lead to illness, which he couldn’t afford.

Suddenly, his eyes widened as he stared at the cart.

A white cat sat on top, quietly watching him with a pair of calm eyes.

This cat was pure white, its fur very clean—clearly not a stray.

One eye was blue, the other yellow—a rare and beautiful “mandarin duck” eye.

He scratched his head, thinking maybe he’d been single too long; even a cat’s features seemed striking.

“Let’s go, no luck here.” He pulled the cart away from the railway culvert.

Looking back, the white cat was still sitting on the cart, seemingly attached to him. The cat probably knew the difference between a full meal and an empty one.

“If you follow me, you might not get any meat. Think carefully,” he said.

Wang Peng crossed a graveyard and walked along the wall of the railway staff housing complex, arriving at its gate. He handed the security guard two watermelons as a gift.

The old man smiled, opening the iron gate. “That’s a Persian cat. Our leader has one just like it. He spent 200 yuan to buy it in the provincial city.”

“Wow, sir, the leader sure has money. I wouldn’t dare spend 200 yuan on a cat,” Wang Peng chuckled.

“Go sell your melons, kid. You’re lucky; the leader is away at a meeting in the city for a few days.” The old man carried the watermelons back inside.

Wang Peng wheeled the cart into the housing complex. He wanted to shout and sell, but worried about disturbing residents, so he resorted to knocking on doors.

Yesterday he had reached house number 30 and was about to knock on number 31 when the gate opposite opened.

A young woman was pushing her bicycle out. Her round, plump face bore a few pimples, lowering her appearance somewhat.

“Hello, miss, want some watermelon?” Wang Peng struck up a conversation. “Three mao per jin, no fruit coupons needed.”

Yesterday, the man selling baked cakes had told him that watermelons at the agricultural market were also three mao per jin but required fruit coupons.

Now, planned economy and market economy coexisted, but it seemed that soon all kinds of ration coupons would disappear, making planned economy a thing of the past.

“Ah!” The woman exclaimed, her heart suddenly fluttering, “What a beautiful cat!”

She stopped her bike and reached out to pet the white cat. “Mimi, Mimi.”

The cat didn’t run away; instead, it rubbed its fluffy head against her palm, purring softly.

Her heart melted. “Comrade, I’ll buy fifty jin of watermelon if you give me the cat. I have a lot of mice at home.”

---

“Ah?” Wang Peng quickly shook his head. “No, miss. My parents aren’t home, and this cat is my only companion.”

He had found the cat on the road. The security guard said it was a 200-yuan Persian cat from a nearby household, so he dared not sell it.

The woman looked disappointed but cradled the cat in her arms. “Pick six melons for me. If any aren’t ripe, can I return them?”

“Absolutely. I was here yesterday and will come again,” Wang Peng selected the melons.

She only looked at the cat, not the melons, and lowered her head to kiss its head. She truly loved cats.

Wang Peng never expected the cat actually drew business—no wonder it was called the lucky cat.

In business, the biggest challenge is attracting customers. Whatever marketing methods are used, as long as customers come, business usually improves.

Six watermelons weighed thirty jin and two liang. Wang Peng smiled, “Miss, since we’re both cat lovers, I’ll give you two liang free. You pay nine yuan.”

The woman was surprised but quickly took out money to pay.

Perhaps wanting to hear her voice more, or to hold the cat longer, she called out to the neighbors, “Second uncle, the watermelon seller’s here. Want some?”

“What watermelon? Sure, I’ll take some,” a deep voice came from inside.

The gate opened, and a middle-aged man wearing large shorts poked his head out.

The two men had loud voices, and soon two more neighbors—a man and a woman—opened their doors to join the commotion.

“Oh, these watermelons look good.”

“Uncle Da Lei, I just bought thirty jin for three mao per jin, no fruit coupons. Want to try two?” Wang Peng offered.

“These are from my own farm. If they’re not sweet, no charge,” Wang Peng said earnestly, wishing he could give the white cat to this kind woman.

The middle-aged man approached the cart and tapped on each melon, then selected six.

“Young man, if any aren’t ripe, can I return them?” the man asked.

“Of course. I’m honest in business,” Wang Peng guaranteed.

“Okay, I’ll go get the money,” the man turned to leave.

At this moment, more neighbors heard the noise and came out to see what was happening.

People tend to follow the crowd. Seeing neighbors rush to buy watermelons, others felt they’d miss out if they didn’t join.

More and more people gathered around, some with children. The area in front of the cart became packed, with children crowding around to watch the excitement.