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Unhappy was a cheerful little cat, though its master, here in Qiantang, had not been living a very happy life at all. When the litter of kittens was born, mewling and crying out for food, Unhappy had been given a swift kick, and along with it, this rather unpromising name. And yet, Unhappy grew all the same into a lively, spirited cat. The summer solstice brings three signs in turn: first, the antlers of the deer begin to shed; second, the cicadas start their song; and third, the crow-dipper herb sprouts forth. It made its home and raised its family near the post station where foreign travelers gathered, fathering many kittens of its own. It was forever curious, sniffing about this way and that, searching among the strange and varied goods for the scent of some foreign rat. It often thought that perhaps, one day, it too might cross the seas, and see with its own eyes all manner of strange creatures: the gaudy dragonflies, the kitchen crickets, the tiny biting gnats, and the weaving-lady spiders...