I am a cat, a three-year-old black cat, everything is normal except for one thing.
I remember memories from my last life.
I don't know if there are any missing ingredients in Meng Po's soup, or if there are unfinished obsessions in my previous life (this is always said in novels). In short, I remember what happened before I was thirty-five years old in my previous life, my childhood, adolescence, work, and even my preferences, but everything stopped before my thirty-fifth birthday. I don't know what happened to me.
Maybe I only lived to be thirty-five in my last life? Maybe Meng Po Tang was enough to make me forget everything after the age of thirty-five?
I don't know.
But at least being born as a cat is pretty good.
At least.
Conception: