Two police cars turned off the highway ramp into the service area, their lights flashing a strobing red-and-blue across the entire parking lot.
Tang Miao quietly wriggled out from under the van’s chassis.
At the rear of the vehicle, she poked half her head out to assess the situation.
The aunties had surrounded the van like an iron bucket, a dozen or so phones all pointed squarely at the driver’s seat.
The bald man was slumped motionless over the steering wheel, while the guy in the baseball cap cowered in the passenger seat, the red mark from the thermos still fresh on his face.
Two traffic officers strode over.
The lead uncle stepped forward to meet them, waving his little flag toward the van and rattling off a rapid explanation.
One of the officers circled to the back of the van, glanced inside the cargo compartment, and his expression darkened.
He picked up his radio: “Dispatch, this is the XX service area on the Jingha Expressway. We’ve found a vehicle suspected of illegally transporting animals. There are numerous iron cages in the cargo area. Requesting backup.”
Tang Miao didn’t stick around to watch what happened next. Her attention was on the thing clamped between her teeth.
The chain was a bit uncomfortable against her teeth.
The slightly plump auntie was standing at the front of the cordon, one hand on her hip, the other pointing at the dog thieves in the van as she tore into them with a torrent of abuse.
She cursed them from eighteen generations of ancestors all the way down to their next reincarnation, her vocabulary impressively vast, without even pausing for breath.
As for the gold chain that the stray cat had snatched, it had long since slipped her mind.
Tang Miao trotted on her slender legs, slipping along the edge of the crowd, and stopped by the auntie’s feet.
The auntie was in full swing:
“You two damned bastards, may your children—”
Tang Miao raised her right front paw, hooked it onto the auntie’s loose sweatpants, and gave a firm tug. Twice.
The auntie suddenly felt a pull at her calf, her words catching in her throat.
She looked down.
A ball of orange fur was crouched beside her sneakers.
The furball tilted its head up, opened its mouth.
“Plop.”
A gleaming gold chain dropped at her feet.
Mission accomplished.
Tang Miao didn’t spare the auntie another glance. She turned and, in a few quick bounds, disappeared into the holly bushes two meters away.
The slightly plump auntie stayed frozen in her bent-over position for a full five seconds.
Her gaze flickered back and forth between the gold chain on the ground and the still-quivering branches of the bush.
Finally, a full-throated shriek pierced the night air of the service area, startling even the traffic officer who was jotting down information nearby.
“Oh my heavens, my dear ancestors! Sisters, look! That little cat is possessed! It brought my six thousand eight hundred back to me!”
The auntie snatched up the chain from the ground and held it aloft with both hands. “A miracle! This is absolutely a Divine Cat sent to repay a kindness!”
In the bushes, Tang Miao twitched her whiskers.
Tang Miao watched from a distance.
The rear doors of the van were swung open.
The moment that stench hit the air, the nearest officer turned his head and gagged.
The watching aunties covered their noses and mouths, but not one of them backed away.
The cages were brought down one by one.
The slightly plump auntie wiped her tears and cursed even more fiercely.
“Sinful! Are you even human? Animals!”
Some of the dogs could stand once lifted out, wobbling unsteadily on the ground, trembling.
Others couldn’t get up at all, lying limp at the bottom of their cages, not even moving their eyes.
The dead mongrel was carried down too.
The spotted dog that had been guarding it the whole time refused to come out once its cage was opened, nudging its companion with its nose.
The crowd grew larger.
Passing drivers stopped to look, and service area staff ran over to help.
A young woman who’d gotten off a tour bus crouched on the ground, cradling a skinny little mixed-breed dog that was all skin and bones, sobbing too hard to speak.
The old Pekingese, Ping’an, was the last cage to be brought down.
The officer unlocked it, and Ping’an stepped out, trembling.
It lowered its head to drink from the bottle of water an auntie offered, took a few laps, then raised its head.
Its clouded old eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces around it, the cracked skin of its nose twitching.
Tang Miao crouched in the bushes, burying her head in her front paws.
She didn’t like dogs.
In her past life, she’d been chased and bitten by dogs while delivering food; unleashed big dogs in the neighborhood were her nightmare.
But now, watching these battered, wounded lives being carried out of iron cages, her throat felt tight and raw.
Alright. Time to go.
She backed out from behind the truck and ran along the edge of the parking lot toward the spot where the Jing-A truck had been parked.
The truck?
The spot was empty!
Two tire tracks stretched out from the space, merging into the lane leading to the exit.
Dark oil stains from the diesel engine’s startup still dotted the ground, already cold.
The truck was gone!
Tang Miao crouched in the empty parking space, the wind ruffling her fur this way and that.
“…Meow, damn it.”
She lowered her head, staring at the two tire tracks on the ground, her mind completely blank.
The ride to Beijing was gone.
She was at some service area along the Jingha Expressway, in the middle of nowhere.
So close to Beijing.
But with her tiny body, walking on the highway would be suicide.
Tang Miao sat in the empty parking space for a long while.
The wind blew down her neck, the strings of her little knitted pouch swaying.
Inside the pouch were still half a sausage, a few dried fish, and Tata’s gold beans.
Good thing she’d kept the pouch on her and hadn’t been lazy and left it on the truck.
She stood up and shook out her fur.
There will always be a way, she told herself.
She turned back toward the van.
The two dog thieves were handcuffed and shoved into the back seat of the police car. The bald one hung his head, but the one in the baseball cap still had a hard mouth:
“I was just helping someone transport goods. I didn’t know what was in the car…”
The traffic cop couldn’t be bothered with him.
Several dozen dogs were temporarily gathered in the open area by the service area entrance.
The aunties had spontaneously formed a temporary watch team.
Someone carried a few cases of bottled water off the coach, and someone else bought ten bowls of noodle soup from the noodle shop and poured them into a basin to bring over.
About an hour later, a white Iveco drove into the service area.
Blue lettering was sprayed on the side: “Beijing Small Animal Rescue Center.”
Below it in smaller text: 24-Hour Rescue Hotline.
Beijing plates!
Two volunteers in blue vests jumped out of the vehicle.
One man, one woman—the man carried a collapsible crate, and the woman carried a first-aid kit.
“The Beijing side made the arrangements,” the traffic cop said as he handed off to the volunteers. “Take them back to the city for now, get them checked out, and contact the owners for any that have chips.”
The female volunteer crouched down beside the dogs and examined them one by one.
The chip scanner let out a “beep.”
Old Pekingese Ping’an had a chip in his neck.
“Chaoyang District, Beijing. Registered owner: Zhao Xiuying. Contact number: 135…”
The female volunteer made the call.
After it connected, there were two seconds of silence on the other end, followed by the sound of an elderly woman crying.
“My Ping’an… you found him? You really found him?”
Ping’an’s ears perked up.
In his cloudy eyes, something flickered.
“We found him, ma’am. He’s at the highway service area. We’re bringing him back to Beijing now—you can come pick him up at the rescue station.”
The crying on the other end grew louder, punctuated by broken words of “thank you.”
Tang Miao watched this scene.
Her gaze landed on the white Iveco.
Driving back to Beijing.
Chaoyang District!