Chapter 14The Cat That Tried to Stand

  Steam rose slowly from the dye pot beside the bamboo station, drifting upward through the open roof and disappearing into the mild afternoon air. The scent of marigold floated through the courtyard, warm and slightly earthy, the way it always did when petals had been simmering long enough to release their color properly.

  Khun Ming stood beside the pot with a long wooden paddle in one hand, stirring the liquid in slow circles.

  The golden dog sat near the doorway of the cottage and watched him work with the quiet patience of an animal that had apparently decided supervising humans was an acceptable way to spend the afternoon.

  Khun Ming glanced down at the dog and said, “You know, I appreciate that you keep me company during the work, but I do sometimes wonder whether you actually understand anything I am saying or whether you simply enjoy the sound of my voice.”

  The dog blinked.

  Khun Ming nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that expression strongly suggests the second possibility.”

  He dipped the paddle slightly deeper into the dye bath and lifted it again so he could observe the color of the liquid coating the wood.

  “The extraction is progressing exactly the way it should,” he said conversationally. “The petals have released a good amount of pigment already, which is encouraging because I would really prefer not to harvest another three baskets of flowers before sunset.”

  He leaned over the pot and inhaled gently.

  “The scent is also correct,” he continued. “Marigold always develops that warm herbal smell once the temperature reaches the proper range. If it begins to smell bitter instead, that usually means someone has allowed the pot to boil, which is an excellent way to ruin the entire dye bath and make the afternoon significantly worse.”

  The dog tilted its head slightly.

  Khun Ming chuckled.

  “Yes, I realize you personally were not responsible for overheating any dye vats,” he said. “Nevertheless, I believe it is important that everyone in the household understands the consequences of poor temperature control.”

  He stirred the pot again.

  “Maintaining a stable temperature around seventy degrees is ideal,” he continued, speaking aloud the way craftsmen often did when repeating habits learned through years of practice. “When the heat stays within that range, the carotenoid pigments inside the marigold petals release gradually and evenly, which produces a cleaner yellow tone on the cloth.”

  He paused for a moment and then added with mild amusement, “Of course, explaining dye chemistry to a dog is not traditionally part of the textile profession, but circumstances have become somewhat unusual lately.”

  The dog wagged its tail once.

  Khun Ming pointed the paddle at him. “Do not encourage me. If you continue looking attentive, I might start explaining mordant chemistry as well, and then neither of us will finish our work before dinner.”

  He returned his attention to the pot.

  Inside the cottage, Hu Xinyan slowly opened her eyes.

  Her body still ached from the tribulation backlash. The lightning that had struck her during the heavenly trial had torn through several meridians before collapsing her cultivation and forcing her back into her tiger form.

  Under normal circumstances, a failure like that could have ended her life.

  Instead she had awakened in a quiet mountain cottage where a mortal man boiled flowers and spoke to a dog about pigment stability.

  Hu Xinyan slowly lifted her head.

  Her muscles trembled with the effort.

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  She looked toward the doorway.

  The golden dog immediately noticed.

  Its ears twitched slightly.

  Hu Xinyan froze.

  The dog’s eyes met hers.

  For a moment, neither of them moved.

  Hu Xinyan felt the same unsettling pressure she had sensed earlier. Beneath the dog’s harmless appearance lay a presence so deep and ancient that her instincts reacted automatically.

  That creature was not an ordinary animal.

  The dog blinked once.

  Then it wagged its tail gently.

  Hu Xinyan did not understand how something so terrifying could behave so casually.

  Outside, Khun Ming continued talking to himself while working.

  “If the extraction continues like this,” he said thoughtfully, “then the first dye bath should be ready in about an hour. That would be excellent timing, because I still need to prepare the pomegranate tannin reinforcement before evening, and it would be extremely inconvenient to do both processes in the dark.”

  He glanced toward the basket of dried rind sitting on the table.

  “You see, pomegranate rind is quite useful for strengthening yellow dyes,” he explained to the dog. “The botanical name is Punica granatum, and the rind contains a large amount of natural tannins. Those tannins bind nicely with the alum mordant already inside the cloth fibers, which helps the color remain stable instead of washing out after a few uses.”

  The dog blinked again.

  Khun Ming smiled faintly.

  “I do realize that this explanation is somewhat wasted on you,” he said, “but I find that speaking the steps aloud helps me remember them properly. When a process becomes routine, it is very easy to skip small details, and skipping small details is precisely how people end up with disappointing cloth.”

  Inside the cottage, Hu Xinyan listened carefully.

  The mortal’s voice remained calm.

  Steady.

  There was no cultivation aura surrounding him.

  And yet something about the environment around him felt strangely… balanced.

  She had felt that kind of stability only inside the meditation chambers of extremely high-level sect elders.

  Outside, Khun Ming leaned the paddle against the side of the pot and stretched his shoulders.

  “Standing over a dye bath for long periods of time is excellent for patience but somewhat less beneficial for the lower back,” he said.

  The dog thumped its tail softly.

  Khun Ming laughed. “Yes, yes, I am aware that you personally spend most of the day sitting comfortably while I perform all the labor. I would like to remind you, however, that household companionship is an important contribution in its own way.”

  He picked up a piece of dried pomegranate rind and held it up for inspection.

  “Take a look at this,” he said, although the dog clearly had no intention of examining botanical material.

  “The reason this works so well is because the rind contains a high concentration of hydrolysable tannins. When these tannins dissolve into warm water, they create a mild binding agent that attaches very nicely to natural fibers like cotton or linen.”

  He paused, then added with a slight grin, “Of course, explaining tannin chemistry to a golden retriever is probably the strangest teaching assignment I have ever accepted.”

  The dog wagged its tail again.

  Inside the cottage, Hu Xinyan slowly tried to move.

  Her front legs pushed against the woven mat.

  Pain shot through her shoulder, but she managed to lift herself slightly.

  For a brief moment she was standing.

  Then her back legs collapsed.

  She fell back to the floor.

  The dog stood immediately.

  Hu Xinyan froze again.

  The dog walked two steps closer and calmly positioned itself between her and the doorway.

  It did not growl.

  It simply stood there.

  Hu Xinyan understood the message.

  Outside, Khun Ming glanced toward the doorway after hearing the movement.

  “Oh,” he said with mild surprise. “It appears that our patient has decided to test her balance again.”

  He walked over and crouched beside the tiger.

  “I appreciate the enthusiasm,” he said gently, “but attempting to stand immediately after surviving lightning injuries is generally not considered a good medical strategy.”

  He inspected the burn marks along her shoulder.

  “The healing process is progressing quite well,” he continued thoughtfully. “However, nerves and muscles recover at different speeds, which means that standing too early can cause additional strain.”

  He applied a fresh layer of aloe gel.

  “You should remain resting for at least another day,” he said calmly. “I realize that you probably have very important tiger responsibilities waiting somewhere in the forest, but rushing recovery tends to create more problems than it solves.”

  Hu Xinyan stared at him.

  Khun Ming nodded sympathetically.

  “Yes, I understand that my advice may not be particularly convenient for you,” he said. “Nevertheless, as the person currently responsible for your medical care, I must insist that you cooperate with the treatment plan.”

  He stood again and returned to the dye station.

  The dog sat back down.

  Hu Xinyan lowered her head slowly onto the mat.

  Outside, Khun Ming resumed stirring the marigold dye bath.

  After a moment he looked toward the dog again and said with a small sigh,

  “You know, when I started this dye order yesterday, I expected my main difficulty would be harvesting eight kilograms of flowers before the petals wilted. I did not expect that the day would also include emergency veterinary medicine and lightning-related patient care.”

  He stirred the pot thoughtfully.

  “Still,” he added, “as long as the cloth turns out properly, I suppose the day cannot be considered a complete failure.”

  The dog wagged its tail.

  Khun Ming smiled.

  “And if no additional tigers fall out of the sky before sunset,” he said, “I will consider that a particularly successful afternoon.”

  Steam continued rising from the dye vat as the golden liquid slowly deepened in color, and the quiet rhythm of work resumed in the courtyard of the bamboo cottage.

  Chapter 14 Complete.