This past Chinese New Year, many things came to pass. Hu Guohua's scheme of crafting a paper effigy to swindle money from his uncle finally came to light. His uncle grew so angry and agitated that he fell ill and, within three days, passed away.

All of Hu family's relatives and friends guarded against him as if he were a thief. Not only would they not lend him money, but they wouldn't even let him scrounge for leftovers. Hu Guohua sold the last pair of sandalwood chests he owned for two silver dollars. These chests had been his mother’s dowry, and he had always meant to keep them as a keepsake, unable to bring himself to pawn them. But the craving for opium struck, and he couldn't afford to hesitate any longer. With the two dollars, he bought a small piece of fushou gao (opium), rushed home, and immediately lit his pipe, falling onto the ** with a desperate gasp, inhaling deeply twice. His body felt light, as if floating among the clouds.

In that moment, he felt as blissful as an immortal. All the slights, insults, and bullying he usually endured seemed insignificant. Taking two more draws, he suddenly noticed a dark, shadowy object sprawled near his **. Focusing his eyes, he saw a large rat huddled in the corner of the bed. This rat was certainly old; its whiskers had turned white, and it was nearly the size of a cat. It was nearby, sniffing the smoke billowing from Hu Guohua's pipe, as if it, too, understood the pleasure of the fushou gao, greedily enjoying the aroma.

Hu Guohua found this amusing and said to the large rat, "You scoundrel, you have an addiction too? It seems we are kindred spirits." After speaking, he took a pull and exhaled a cloud of smoke towards the rat. The rat seemed to understand he meant no harm and showed no fear, raising its head to accept the vapor sprayed toward it. After a while, seemingly sated, it slowly crawled away.

For several days following, this large rat would come every day to share a smoke with Hu Guohua. Shunned and without a single friend, Hu Guohua developed a deep sense of camaraderie with the creature. Sometimes, if the rat was late, Hu Guohua would endure the craving and wait for it.

But the good times were short-lived. Hu Guohua was left with nothing but a bed and four walls; there was no more money to buy opium. Distraught and at a loss, he sighed to the rat, "Rat, oh rat, today my purse is empty, and I have no more funds for fushou gao. I fear I cannot share this pleasure with you much longer." He lamented deeply as he finished speaking.

The rat seemed to understand his words; its eyes flashed brightly, as if deep in thought. It turned and left. As darkness fell, the rat returned, carrying a silver dollar in its mouth, which it placed beside Hu Guohua’s pillow. Hu Guohua was overcome with shock and joy. That very night, he journeyed into the city and bought a piece of fushou gao. Upon his return, he lit it under the lamp and smoked lavishly, indulging to his heart's content alongside the rat.

The next day, the rat brought back three more silver dollars. Hu Guohua was so delighted he barely knew how to speak. He recalled an anecdote he learned while attending the village school and said to the rat, "He who truly understands Guan Zhong is Bao Shuya. You know my poverty and bestow such generosity upon me; you are truly my confidant. If you do not disdain it, let us swear a brotherhood." From then on, he treated the rat as his sworn brother, calling him "Brother Rat," sharing meals and opium. He even fashioned a nest for the rat out of cotton batting on the **, allowing the rat to sleep there as well.

The man and the rat lived in harmony, their bond no less profound than that of sworn, intimate friends. The rat brought back silver dollars every day—one or two on lean days, and three to five on good ones. From then on, Hu Guohua’s food and clothing were secure. Years later, my grandfather would recall that this period was the happiest time of his life.

This continued for more than half a year, and Hu Guohua gradually grew prosperous. But as the saying goes: fortune draws friends, disaster attracts villains. It was perhaps Hu Guohua's fate to be targeted by a petty scoundrel.

There was a local ruffian named Wang Ergongzi. Unlike Hu Guohua, who had at least known wealth, having been the "Young Master Hu" for over two decades.

Wang Ergongzi had never known such fortune. From his ancestors eight generations back down to him, not one had worn a pair of trousers that didn't expose their backside. Seeing the Hu family's fortune collapse, he rejoiced in their misery. He would pick fights, curse, and insult Hu Guohua whenever the mood struck, bullying the former Young Master to find some psychological balance for himself.

Lately, he found things very strange. Hu Guohua, that poor wretch, wasn't engaged in any business. He had pawned everything of value, and his relatives were nearly all dead. Yet, he was smoking opium every day at home. Where was the money for the opium coming from? Wang Ergongzi suspected the boy might have turned to theft. Perhaps I should stake out his place quietly. If I catch him stealing, I can turn him over to the authorities and earn a few silver dollars in reward.

However, after watching him for a time, Wang Ergongzi found that Hu Guohua rarely left home except for occasional trips to the city to buy food and opium, and he associated with no one. The more mysterious the source of his money became, the more restless Wang Ergongzi grew.

One day, Hu Guohua went out to buy something to eat. Wang Ergongzi seized the opportunity to climb over the wall into his house, ransacking drawers and cupboards, determined to uncover Hu Guohua's secret. Suddenly, he spotted a large rat sleeping soundly on the **. Wang Ergongzi casually snatched the rat and tossed it into a pot of water boiling on the stove, then pressed the lid down firmly. He thought, I'll wait nearby and enjoy the show when Hu Guohua comes home for a drink.

Before Wang Ergongzi could slip away, Hu Guohua returned, catching him red-handed inside the room. When Hu Guohua saw the large rat in the kettle, already scalded to death, his eyes immediately turned bloodshot. He snatched up a cleaver and attacked. Wang Ergongzi was slashed more than a dozen times, but fortunately, Hu Guohua was an opium addict with little strength. Although struck many times, Wang Ergongzi avoided a fatal wound. Covered in blood, he fled to the local security garrison for help. The garrison captain was a relative of a local warlord and was currently entertaining that warlord over drinks. The captain exclaimed, This is intolerable! Daylight robbery and attempted murder? Is there no law left? He immediately ordered several subordinates to seize Hu Guohua and bind him tightly.

Hu Guohua was brought before the officers. The security captain demanded sternly why he had attacked Wang Ergongzi with a knife.

Hu Guohua, tears streaming down his face, sobbed out the entire sequence of events. Finally, he sighed mournfully, "I was near death in my deepest poverty. Without this rat, I would not be alive today. Alas, through my negligence, Brother Rat perished. Though I did not kill him directly, he died because of me. How can I face this good friend in the underworld? I accept full responsibility for my actions. Since I injured Wang Ergongzi, I will submit to any penalty—be it execution or punishment—I only beg the officer to allow me to return home to bury my Brother Rat, so that even in death, my eyes may close in peace."

Before the security captain could respond, the warlord present exclaimed with deep emotion to Hu Guohua, "Damn it all! Forgetting kindness is the failure of benevolence; failing loyalty is the failure of righteousness. To treat a mere rat with such devotion, how much more so would he treat a man? I recognize your integrity. Seeing you are alone and without support, you shall follow me into the army as a deputy officer from now on."

The barrel of a gun is political power. In times of chaos, the words of a commander are the law. The warlord boss ordered his men to give Wang Ergongzi a good whipping to vent Hu Guohua's anger. He then released Hu Guohua to go home and bury the rat. Hu Guohua placed the rat's body in a wooden box, dug a hole, and interred it, weeping for half a day before going to join the warlord leader.

As the saying goes: Sweet is the taste of coarse grain when one is starving, but even honey tastes bitter when one is full. When a person is at their lowest ebb of poverty, they are grateful for a bowl of thin gruel or a single biscuit from others. How much more so for the wealth the rat bestowed upon Hu Guohua—though, naturally, the rat’s money was also all stolen. The Sages teach that one should rather die of thirst than drink water from a 'thief's spring.' However, that is the standard of character for the most virtuous of men. Even the ancients found it difficult to adhere to, let alone a mediocre man like Hu Guohua. I have heard it said that smoking in a room for a long time will make the flies and rats inside addicted; this statement is clearly not false.

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