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Cat Prince

2024-04-26 10:26
中國新書(英文版) 2024年1期

The novel narrates a captivating and imaginative story of “self-discovery and self-acceptance.” Through the adventures shared by Xiao Yu and the Cat Prince, they develop profound reflections on their respective lives, conquering fears and embracing lifes imperfections, approaching each new day with a broader perspective. The work received the Eighth Good Shanghai Childrens Book Award, and the adapted screenplay was nominated for the Golden Character Award by the Beijing Film Academy.

Xiao Yunfeng

Xiao Yunfengs works were nominated for the Childrens Book Gold Award in 2010 and achieved three consecutive years of Bestseller Awards. His representative works were selected for the summer and winter vacation reading lists in three provinces. The novel Cat Prince won the Eighth Good Shanghai Childrens Book Award.

I sat on a cloud, bathed in the bright and refreshing autumn sun, while a gentle breeze whispered through the layers of giant tree leaves, producing a sound more enchanting than a symphony conducted by a master of music.

I proudly lifted my chin and said, “Youve invited me as a guest and treated me with such fine coffee. Let me return the favor with a story.”

“Wait a second!” The Cat Prince tore off a piece of cloud, stuffed it into his ear, stirred it with his paw, and then yanked it out, revealing a clump of dark yellow substance. He sniffed it, his face wrinkling like a bunched-up tissue, and with a gesture as if it were hot, tossed the cloud into a nearby empty wooden barrel.

“You ... thats quite rude.”

“Im just preparing myself to listen attentively.”

I picked up my coffee cup again, the image of him cleaning his ears appearing in my mind, and set it down without drinking: “Let me share a real-life experience with you.”

“I like the truth, I hate lies,” it said.

“Youre quite demanding,” I said, lightly touching its brow with my finger.

The Cat Princes face puffed up like an inflated pufferfish.

I placed my hand on my chest, conjuring the right emotion for the story, and began in a rustling voice.

One night, I lay in bed reading with soothing music playing. The window was open, letting in a cool breeze. Tired from reading, I placed the book on my chest and looked up at the sky; the moon was big and round. I thought, what a night, somewhat beautiful yet tinged with loneliness.

Suddenly, a little boy stuck his head out from behind the window.

Gosh, I almost fell off the bed in fright. You see, I live on the tenth floor. “Who ... who are you?” I asked in alarm.

“Im a little angel.”

“Really? Are you sure youre not a ghost or something?”

He shook his head, and a pair of white wings unfolded from behind him: “I live on soft clouds with other angels and fairies.”

“Then why arent you staying up in heaven? What brings you here?”

“Im looking for someone.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“Someone good and irreplaceable.”

“Thats quite a specific search,” I said, sitting up, intrigued: “What do you think of me?”

“You?” He looked very serious and pondered for a moment, “When I looked down from the clouds, you seemed very gentle. But now that Im close to you, you also seem a bit lonely.”

“So, youve been observing me closely,” I said, getting up and walking barefoot towards the windowsill.

“Dont come any closer.”

He flapped his wings in a panic and flew away.

The Cat Prince rested his paw on his cheek, listening intently.

Time seemed to freeze, and only my blood flowed. All noise fell silent, only my voice vibrated. All light slept, only my gaze stayed awake.

The Cat Prince lifted his chin, looking at me quizzically: “And then?”

I took a sip of coffee: “Then I woke up.”

“So, it was a dream you had?” The Cat Prince gazed at me with wide eyes.

“Obviously. Do you really believe there are angels in the world?”

“Yes,” he said.

“You truly think so?”

He nodded: “Not only angels, but also ghosts and spirits.”

I stared at him intently.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He dodged back, alert.

“Because I also believe in the existence of little angels.” My eyelids drooped, “But most people around me dont think so, so I always pause when I talk about this and only continue if I meet someone who believes.”

“Did that little angel come back to find you?”

“Yes, he came back several times.”

Once, I couldnt help but ask him, “Do you need my help with something?”

He shook his head: “I really enjoy listening to stories, and you are a storyteller.”

“Thats all? But, few people like the stories I write.”

“One day they will,” he said.

“Do you truly believe that?”

He nodded firmly, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and handing it to me.

“This is ...” I looked down, and it was a draft I had thrown in the trash. The first line read “Maomao,” “Oh, the dandelion seed story. Where did you get this?”

He didnt reply but simply stated, “I like this story; why not complete it?”

“The publishers say its too straightforward. Adults will find it boring, and children wont like it,” I said.

“Finish it. Some children will like it,” he insisted.

I covered my mouth and yawned.

“Are you tired?”

“Mhm.”

“But your eyes are brighter than a fireflys tail.”

“My body is tired, but my mind spins like a top, non-stop. Thats the trouble with being a storyteller,” I said.

“I can fall asleep anytime, anywhere.”

“I envy that,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Storytelling is hard, and each sentence feels like its crafted from a strand of soul.”

“So, did you finish that ‘Maomao story?” The Cat Prince asked.

I shook my head: “The little angel suddenly disappeared, and worse, not long after, I became pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” It looked at my stomach.

“Thats quite rude.”

“I apologize,” he said in a somewhat mechanical tone.

“Your apology doesnt sound sincere,” I complained.

“Im already trying hard to follow your human rules,” the Cat Prince became serious again.

“Finally, youre speaking the truth. You dont really care about us, do you?” I said, extending my hand again.

“Please, dont!” The Cat Prince protested, but his head moved forward to meet my hand.

“Just say you want a petting. Why the fuss?” My hand touched the top of his head.

His eyes narrowed to slits, purring contentedly.

“Thats more like it. Dont always hide behind that gentlemanly facade. Being cute suits you better. Many great writers have a loyal cat. Although Im just a storyteller for now, if you dont mind, come home with me,” I said to the Cat Prince.

Cat Prince

Xiao Yunfeng

New Century Press

March 2020

32.00 (CNY)

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