Immortal Takeout - Chapter 19

Miss Cat quietly finished a small fish cake, signaling she was full. This embarrassed Ta Nuo, who was still on his second plate. But it was clear that Miss Cat hadn’t come all this time just for the fish cakes.

She and Ta Nuo both sensed the faint breath of life from Grandma Miao.

Animals are always sensitive to death; it’s part of survival instinct. Their reverence isn’t just fear—it comes from a lack of attachment to the world and no obsession with the future.

Live in the present, in the here and now.

Every present moment is precious;the past and the future don’t warrant excessive concern.

Even the cleverest crows can only predict two or three days ahead. Squirrels plan ahead, storing food for winter.  But what about beyond? What about the distant future?

It’s undeniable that perhaps only humans possess the obsessive plans and anxieties about the immensity of time. They think so much and so far ahead. The farther into the future, the more uncertain it becomes. The unknown embodies fear, and fear embodies weakness. And death is the greatest unknown. Therefore, most humans are weak in the face of death.

Ta Nuo couldn’t tell whether this was joy or sorrow. He’d never excelled in philosophy. In fact, aside from the class “Lying Like a Salted Fish,” his grades were mediocre. But he’d also heard that some humans had reached a state of seeing through life and death, living out their natural lives, much like the realm of enlightenment achieved by a cultivator. Some achieved this through spiritual practice, while others, through life’s experiences, naturally shed their obsession with death.

Grandma Miao was probably the latter.

Ta Nuo secretly suspected that Granny Miao might be receiving a vague revelation. As a person approaches death, time slows down, until it stops. Her smiling eyes held a clarity that Ta Nuo couldn’t fathom.

Miss Cat and Ta Nuo naturally stayed for dinner. Grandma Miao expressed no surprise or displeasure. She cooked, with Ta Nuo helping, creating a feast: five dishes, a side dish, and soup—enough for three people.

But in the end, only Ta Nuo was truly hungry. Despite the delicious taste, Grandma Miao and Miss Cat barely touched their food. Ta Nuo ate meticulously, commenting on each dish. His favorite was the steamed clams in wine; tender and irresistible.

Grandma Miao was the first to put down her chopsticks. She smiled and said, “I haven’t cooked anything in ages. I’m not sure if it’s good enough.”

When the family lived together, Grandma Miao loved cooking to reward her family’s hard work. Later, as her children grew up and moved far away, visits were rare, and her husband bore the burden of empty plates. When her husband’s health declined, she gradually lost interest in cooking.

Cooking is magical. It can be tedious or simple. Alone, even the best dishes feel lonely. With company, the kitchen shines, and food tastes richer.

This is perhaps why, in the internet age, so many people love to share photos of their own culinary creations. Sharing is also a form of participation. Even if we’re thousands of miles apart, the thought that your thoughtfulness will be appreciated by an unknown friend makes the cooking process more enjoyable and a pursuit of perfection more intense.

“But I’m so happy to have you all for dinner today,” Grandma Miao said.

Ta Nuo finished his last clam and licked his fingers. “I’m happy too,” he said. Making friends is always a joy in life.

Although Ta Nuo ate heartily, there was still a lot of food left. Grandma Miao, always frugal, for once didn’t put the leftovers in the refrigerator.

“These need to be eaten fresh. They won’t taste good later,” she said, sorting them into the trash.

Ta Nuo helped clean the kitchen and dining table. Grandma Miao carefully collected extras into trash bags. The house, already tidy, became spotless under her care.

Miss Cat sat quietly on the sofa, teacup in hand. Her slightly vacant eyes followed Grandma Miao, lost in thought. She watched Grandma Miao erase traces of her life, bit by bit.

On the counter sat an old landline phone. Grandma Miao, nostalgic, finished her chores, took off her apron, smoothed her clothes, and walked to the phone.

A family photo rested on a glass shelf. Beneath it, a yellowed phonebook, pages worn from frequent use. Grandma Miao carefully dialed, slowly reading each number.

As usual, the call disconnected quickly, a mechanical voice from the receiver. She held the receiver for a moment, then gently put it down.

Feeling a little sullen, Ta Nuo offered to take out the trash. It was dark and chilly. He squatted by the trash can and chatted with the stray cats.

“Granny Miao? Meow, she’s a good person,” said a large yellow cat.

“She’s very kind. Brings us food, never scares us, gives blankets on snowy days. Helps if anyone is hurt,” said a black-faced cat.

“Yes, and the steamed fish she brought was super delicious,” said another cat. It leaned over to Ta Nuo’s hand, sniffed it, smacked its lips, and seemed to want to lick it.

Ta Nuo declined the cat’s offer. His fingers still held the scent of clams, faint but still delicious.

Soon, more stray cats gathered, thirty or so in total. “We’re here to say goodbye to Grandma Miao,” the large yellow cat explained.

Ta Nuo nodded, understanding her connection with the cats.

Back inside, Grandma Miao sat with Miss Cat, watching a comedy show. They didn’t speak, but harmony filled the room.

Granny Miao smiled at Ta Nuo. “Thank you for helping. Want some fruit?”

Ta Nuo peeled tangerines, sharing with Granny Miao, Miss Cat, and himself. They were sweet and juicy.

After the show, Grandma Miao turned off the TV. Ta Nuo stared at the white wall, lost in thought.

Finally, Grandma Miao spoke: “You need a pearl necklace. Every girl, no matter age, needs one.”

Miss Cat nodded, and Grandma Miao retrieved a small pearl necklace from a wooden box.

“This is perfect. It will suit any dress,” she said. Miss Cat put it on silently.

Ta Nuo tilted his head. The necklace truly suited her.

Grandma Miao’s face softened with tenderness. She spoke more freely, recounting her youth, her husband, children, her cat, everything.

“When the children grew up, they stopped clinging. Even when their father wanted closeness, the little ones wouldn’t allow it.” Later, the eldest moved away, then the second. Life in the big city was busy, full of work, overtime, and social obligations.

“Cats are still the best,” she laughed. “They don’t speak, but sometimes I think we all walk alone. Once paths diverge, it’s hard to reunite. Same with my husband and children.”

“Cats just can’t talk,” Miss Cat said.

“That’s right, they just can’t talk. They are smart and patient. It would be great if they found someone with the right temperament,” Granny Miao replied.

Miss Cat stopped talking.

The clock slowly pointed to twelve o’clock. Granny Miao finally got up to rest. Before leaving, she took a last look around the warm and tidy living room, the family photo, and the two young people sitting on the sofa, and smiled with satisfaction.

“Aren’t you going to call again? Your child hasn’t come back yet,” Miss Cat reminded her.

“My child is back,” Granny Miao said.

Miss Cat was stunned, then lowered her head.

Granny Miao came over again. She leaned over and gently hugged Ta Nuo. “Thank you, you are such a good child. Your parents must be very proud of you.”

Ta Nuo hugged her in return and secretly wiped his red eyes.

Granny Miao turned to hug Miss Cat again. She did not refuse, but kept her head down in silence.

“I have one last piece of life advice, and I promise it’ll work,” she said with a smile, her eyes gentle yet resolute. “Not having a beautiful body is no big deal, having flaws is no big deal, and having been hurt is no big deal. Whenever you feel afraid, don’t retreat. Take a step forward and touch the things you fear, and they will no longer be scary.”

Granny Miao reached out and took Miss Cat’s hand, wrapping her large, calloused hand around hers. “Touch the south wall; it hurts more than you do. And you will always be loved.” (t/n. “撞南牆” literally “hit the south wall” is an idiom meaning to face an obstacle )

Granny Miao fell asleep. Miss Cat remained in the chair at the dining table. Ta Nuo curled up on the sofa, staring at the ceiling in a trance.

At some point, the cats’ spring songs began to rise outside the window, one after another, meowing all night long.

—Thank you for taking care of me all these years. Thank you for your hard work. From now on, from the earth to the sky, be free, meowing.

Ta Nuo fell asleep on the sofa, his pillow filled with the cats’ singing. The curtains were not drawn, and the moonlight bathed him.

The next morning, Ta Nuo was awakened by the sunlight. He kept rubbing his face, his head buzzing.

Miss Cat stood in front of the living room window, looked at Ta Nuo, and nodded gently.

Ta Nuo understood that Granny Miao had left.