Immortal Takeout - Chapter 17

After returning from Maochun City, Ta Nuo spent an entire day lazing around on Dayue Lake.

The weather was truly beautiful: blue skies stretched wide, white clouds floated lazily, and a soft spring breeze brushed against the water’s surface — and there he was, an otter lying right in the middle of it all.

The water was still cold, so Ta Nuo had to constantly roll over and rub his fur dry. Grooming fur was no easy task — it took skill and patience. He had to balance himself on the surface while trying to reach every patch with his short claws. The best trick was to keep all four paws out of the water at once, so the warmth wouldn’t escape too quickly.

Ta Nuo spent half the day preening his fur, and the other half foraging for food.. With spring’s arrival, the river clams at the bottom had entered their breeding season. They weren’t at their plumpest yet, but after a long winter of resting, their meat was firm, tender, and wonderfully tasty.

He dove into the water, digging through the muddy riverbed and pulling up several clams at a time. Surfacing with his prize, he laid them out proudly on his belly. A few days earlier, Second Brother Otter had found a green glass bottle downstream — clear and smooth from years of soaking in river water. It was a discarded beer bottle, and he had gifted it to Ta Nuo, who loved it dearly.

Now, it served as his new shell-cracking tool. Ta Nuo gripped the bottle neck with his short, pudgy front paws and hammered the thick base against the mussel shells. Clang! Clang! — the sounds echoed across the lake. His movements were deft and practiced. A few quick strikes, and the shell split apart. He snatched up the juicy meat with his claws and stuffed it into his mouth, cheeks puffing with satisfaction.

In May, when the southern winds blew, clams grew fat and crayfish turned golden — and then, Ta Nuo could float on the river all day, eating from dawn till dusk, just like a carefree piece of drifting duckweed.

Just imagining that scene made him smack his lips, and his shell-cracking strikes grew even harder.

Ding ding ding — ding ding ding —

The sound of bottle striking shells rang over Dayue Lake all day long.

After eating his fill and taking a good nap, Ta Nuo woke up feeling heavier. He rubbed his round belly, deeply content. Spring was a season for growth, after all — for everything, including otters. He only lazed around a little longer before getting up, even before the sun rose.

He had important plans today, and couldn’t afford to do anything.

When he knocked on Granny Miao’s door, she was at home repotting a Christmas cactus, her hands covered in damp soil. She wiped them on her apron and greeted him with a gentle smile.

“Since the appointment is tomorrow, I haven’t prepared the ingredients yet,” she explained, a little embarrassed. “I have to buy them fresh on the same day if they taste good.”

But Ta Nuo shook his head. “I’m not here for fish cakes today. I heard there’s a plum blossom festival at Wutai Mountain Park, and I want to go see it with Grandma. They say the plum blossoms there are beautiful, but the season’s almost over. It would be a shame to miss it.”

That news had come from a passing jay. Ta Nuo added eagerly, “Please come with me, Grandma. I even brought a camera!”

The camera had been a coming-of-age gift from Big Otter. A camera — such a magical human invention. It could capture fleeting moments and freeze them in time forever. But Ta Nuo rarely had the chance to use it, and today felt like the perfect occasion.

Granny Miao looked a little surprised — perhaps she hadn’t expected an invitation. It was a strange request, but for some reason, the polite refusal on her tongue never came out. Plum blossoms only bloomed once a year. It really would be a pity to let them pass unseen. After a pause, she finally nodded.

She changed into her going-out clothes: a bright yellow dress, matching sheepskin gloves, brown leather shoes, and a cute little brown handbag. She looked healthy and radiant, her silver hair shining under the sunlight.

“Grandma, you look so pretty,” Ta Nuo said with a smile.

“You’re pretty too,” Granny Miao chuckled, taking his arm. It had been a long time since she last went out, and her body protested a little. But on such a beautiful day, staying indoors would’ve felt like a waste.

She wasn’t the only one who thought so. On Saturday, Wutai Mountain Park was bustling. People in cheerful spring clothes walked under the sun, smiling and laughing. Ta Nuo queued up to buy two flower-viewing tickets. The tickets themselves were delicate, printed with a red winter plum blossom.

The plum season was indeed nearing its end. Some branches were dotted with fading flowers — tiny blooms that had braved the cold winds, now giving their all to display their final brilliance. White, red, and pink… some as pale as ink wash, others blazing like sunset.

Ta Nuo asked Granny Miao to stand among the blossoms and took her photo. Her smile was sweeter than the flowers themselves.

The plum grove wasn’t large, but it was perfect for a leisurely walk. Granny Miao was in high spirits, strolling for more than half an hour without a break. Together they wandered from the plum blossoms to the peach trees, and then to the pear grove. Buds were everywhere, and the air was thick with the scent of spring.

Ta Nuo slowed his pace to match hers, listening quietly as she chatted. He wasn’t very good at human conversation, but he was curious about everything, and he listened to every word with rapt attention.

“It reminds me of my youth,” Granny Miao said with a soft smile. “The first place my old man took me on a date was in a park — to see free flowers.”

She had grown up in a wealthy family and had once dreamed of poetic, romantic love — of lives full of passion and moonlight. But reality was rarely like poetry. When her family’s finances declined, she had to quit school and work to support them. Her suitors were ordinary men — no grand gestures, no moonlit serenades, just the practical demands of two families trying to get by.

Her husband was the last suitor, and perhaps the most awkward — dressed in gray work trousers, his cuffs stained with dirt that couldn’t be washed out. He had stammered as he invited her to see the flowers, his dark skin flushed red. The flowers weren’t particularly beautiful, the moonlight was faint, and the atmosphere lacked any trace of romance. Yet, somehow, that evening was the most carefree and relaxed of her life.

In the end, she chose that quiet, honest man — maybe because, even with nothing, he still tried his best to bring her a touch of poetry. He spent his whole life keeping his promise, loving her well. Together, they had a son and a daughter, and lived an ordinary, happy life.

With his support, she opened her fish cake shop — her first real business. She named the shop Granny Miao, hoping the shop would last until she truly was a grandmother with gray hair. She did keep going, all the way to the end. But her husband left first.

In the years after he passed, she lived alone, her children scattered in different cities. Later, Mimi’s arrival brought her endless comfort.

“Mimi is such a pretty girl,” she said, smiling softly. “And smart. She found me on her own. I remember it was a stormy day. The shop was empty and I was about to close when I heard a kitten crying. She was tiny, bloody, her back legs crushed by a car tire — barely breathing.”

Ta Nuo had heard that many cross-eyed cats had poor vision and often got into accidents.

“She came to me for help. I was terrified — I’d never cared for such a small animal before. I didn’t know what to do. I used Yunnan Baiyao and gauze to stop the bleeding, and fed her fish cakes. I held her — so small and fragile — and thought, if she survives, I’ll keep her.” Granny Miao sighed, then chuckled. “And she did survive. I named her Mimi.”

Ta Nuo tilted his head, curious. “Why not Fish Cake?”

Granny Miao laughed, her eyes warm. “It wouldn’t sound nice to call a girl Fish Cake.”

Really? Ta Nuo thought that anything delicious deserved a delicious name. What was wrong with calling a girl Fish Cake? It sounded cute. Fish Cake… Fish Cake… he suddenly wanted to try one.

They spent the afternoon wandering the park, and later took a bus downtown for afternoon tea at a bright, cozy cat café. The desserts were sweet, and the cats were even sweeter. Tabby cats, calicos, fat white cats, tiny black kittens, long-tailed thin ones — they rubbed against Ta Nuo’s legs and meowed softly.

Granny Miao sat in the sunlight, cats piled happily in her lap. Her smile was gentle and beautiful.

Ta Nuo scratched the back of a fat tabby’s head — only to get a swipe of claws in return. Cats really were fun, he thought. Maybe he should give the boss a cat. Maybe then, the boss would be happy… and might even consider his plan.

But if he did raise a kitten, what would he name it?

It really was a difficult question for an otter with no cat.

And so, Mr. Otter, who had no cat, began to worry quite seriously.