At Hongru Villa, I wrote about a cat

On a Monday afternoon, it was neither cold nor hot. I spent the whole afternoon at Hongru Villa. Just daydreaming. The yellow building, hidden in the green trees, the surrounding mountains lined up, a few clouds floating moderately in the sky, not too many or too few, it feels very appropriate, everything is so harmonious. In the courtyard, the sweet potatoes planted by the boss are in their prime, the vines are lush, and the eyes are full of green, it is estimated that they are about to mature. The boss said, look, look, there are wormholes on the sweet potato leaves, these little bugs are also raised by the villa, when they grow up, they are caught and fried to eat with wine, as a dish of meat. The pomegranates are red and almost ripe. The persimmon tree is bent over, red all over, like a shy girl's face, beautiful. The beautiful boss still has charm, with a pair of charming eyes, walking with the wind, and the laughter comes from far away. She brought me a cup of green tea and said: It's fragrant, Enshi Yulu, it's expensive, drink it while it's hot. ... I took a sip of tea, slightly astringent, it was Mingqian tea. Then I was stunned. A few cat calls came into my ears, I searched for it, but there was no trace. It seemed to come from the yellow building in the distance, or from the flowers in front of me, the dark red bougainvillea clusters, dripping with charm, showing me its graceful posture; it also seemed to come from the potato field that was green to black, this sound was ethereal, distant, and loud... But I couldn't find its source, but it always lingered in my ears. When I was a child, my family raised a little black cat. It was black, all black, without a single stray hair, even its eyes were black, black through and through, black and pure, so its name was Little Africa, hey cute. At that time, Little Africa and I were good friends, always snuggling at my feet, accompanying me to do homework, accompanying me to read novels. Even if I made a mistake and was beaten, it would stick to me, and for this, it was beaten many times; of course, this whip was swung down by my hot-tempered old father; of course, when it was beaten, it screamed with me in unbearable pain; of course, its screams were louder and more distant than mine, as long as it was hit, accompanied by our joint screams, I and it ran like rabbits, competing who reacted more quickly, who ran faster and further; of course, I always couldn't run as fast as it, so naturally I was beaten more than it, in my memory my butt was always red and swollen, and it still hurts when I think about it. At that time, I was super envious of its escape speed, starting from scratch, 0 to 100 miles probably only less than 0.1 seconds, "dong" and then "take off" disappeared, and then a few seconds later returned to my side, looking at me and my old father with resentful eyes. At that time, I doubted whether I was born with two fewer legs, because the four-legged cat ran faster than me, as well as tigers, lions and leopards, all ran faster than humans. I often think, what if, I have four legs? Little Africa is our family's Yang Bailao, very good at giving. When my old father was alive, he calculated a bill for me. Little Africa caught more than 500 big rats in its meaningful life. According to each rat consuming 50 catties of grain a year, Little Africa directly contributed 25 tons of grain to our family's GDP in its life, which is a great contributor to our family. Of course, a large part of the rats caught by Little Africa were "intercepted" by my old father, fried as a dish for wine, I don't know if these numbers are included? Otherwise, the contribution is even greater! Later, Little Africa and I gradually drifted apart. I also left my hometown to study, to get married, to pursue my poetry and the distance. Later, I occasionally heard about it, heard that it continued to catch rats for a living, caught one and was snatched by my old father to fry and drink with wine, quarreled with my father every day, and lived a "miserable" life. Later, the news became less and less...