Chapter 43: The Mountain God of Taibai Mountain
Of course Lin Jiangye and the others heard the tiger’s roar as well.
Everyone immediately thought of the Amur tiger that had run out, and their faces changed at once. From the sound, it wasn’t far from them at all.
“This is less than ten kilometers from the human activity zone. For a tiger, that’s basically the time it takes to blink…” Ten kilometers of mountain road was a nightmare for humans, but for a tiger it was nothing.
The moment Lin Jiangye heard the roar, he got back in the car to drive over.
Shang Fuyan reacted instantly and followed him in. When Bixi saw that, it hurried into the cabin too. Lin Jiangye was about to say something—until he met the raven’s trembling yet resolute gaze, and swallowed the words back down.
The crow was scared, but it still wanted to protect the human!
As Shang Fuyan climbed in, he smoothly grabbed the animal tranquilizer gun that had been set aside. If they ran into the Amur tiger, they couldn’t attack it—so sedating it first was the only option.
Only after the two of them drove off did the chief and the others finally snap out of it.
“No—what are those two doing?! Wait! Did Shang Fuyan just take the tranquilizer gun? How are his hands that fast?!” The chief screamed in collapse.
Those two—one a special consultant, one a criminal investigations team captain—if anything happened to them in this little town, he could sell himself and still wouldn’t be able to pay it back!!!
But it was too late to say anything now. All they could do was pray that when the two met the poachers, the tiger had already moved on.
Or… that the tiger couldn’t break through that armored vehicle’s defenses…
According to the captured poacher, he’d fired several shots and still couldn’t pierce the windshield. So if the tiger attacked… there should be some protection, right?
Lin Jiangye drove up the mountain with a cold face. From that roar, he could tell the tiger had been enraged by the poachers. Whatever those people had done, it was enough to make the tiger roar “Get out of the mountain” like that.
“Lin Jiangye.” In that moment, Shang Fuyan called him by his full name, his voice turning extremely serious.
Lin Jiangye flicked him a look, telling him to continue.
“I took the tranquilizer gun. When we see it, don’t get out of the car. We’ll try to deal with it from inside. I know you understand animal language, but a tiger isn’t like Deer King or the kestrel or the lynx. That’s a true apex predator. One swipe, and your bones will shatter. You know that better than I do.”
Lin Jiangye didn’t refute him. He only asked, “So? What are you trying to say?”
Shang Fuyan took a deep breath, sounding helpless. “It’s not what I want to say. I’m afraid you’ll get excited the moment you see the Amur tiger and rush out. And if that happens… I might not be able to save you in time.”
By the end, his voice was full of bitterness and worry.
Perhaps feeling the anxiety beside him for real, Lin Jiangye’s face softened slightly. “Relax. I’m not that suicidal.”
Even in the other world, he wouldn’t recklessly approach a true predator—let alone now, when his powers were incomplete and the offensive portion hadn’t returned to his body at all.
Shang Fuyan tugged at the corner of his mouth. He still didn’t believe Lin Jiangye would obediently stay in the car—so he couldn’t help but lecture him anyway.
They were already driving fast, but the higher they went, the worse the road became.
So when they reached the second poacher, the man had already been tortured to the brink of death.
He was covered in blood. A gash on his chest was so deep you could see bone. Yet strangely, despite an injury that severe, he wasn’t dead.
“That Amur tiger was controlling its strength. It doesn’t actually want to kill people.”
Seeing that wound made Lin Jiangye even more certain. Back when they caught the first poacher, he’d already suspected the tiger didn’t truly intend to kill—only to teach these bad humans a lesson.
But for a tiger to understand restraint, to grasp the boundary between “hurting” and “killing,” meant its intelligence was far from low.
Lin Jiangye cracked the window open. The smell of blood and the heavy, overpowering scent of a predator flooded into the car. The raven in the back immediately began trembling.
That smell was far scarier than sound.
Bixi honestly started regretting it. It had imagined the tiger would be terrifying—but it hadn’t imagined this terrifying. Wuwuwu QAQ.
Crow knows it was wrong, QAQ.
Lin Jiangye glanced at the shaking raven, helpless. He shut the window quickly and eased the car to a stop beside the poacher.
Next to the man was a line of broad tiger footprints. Following them with his eyes, the tiger had punished this human and then headed higher up the mountain.
“Give me the gun.” Lin Jiangye intended to get out alone, drag the man into the car first.
Shang Fuyan rejected him immediately. “I’ll give you the gun, but I’m the one getting out.”
His other hand had already hooked the door handle—if Lin Jiangye hadn’t locked the doors fast enough, Shang Fuyan would’ve been out already.
“…,” Shang Fuyan stared at him, full of helplessness.
So much for “I’ll be calm,” huh?
Lin Jiangye was calm. The tiger likely hadn’t gone far; getting out here was dangerous.
He wouldn’t hand the most dangerous thing to someone else. If Shang Fuyan insisted, then Shang Fuyan could stay in the car and cover him.
Lin Jiangye opened the door and stepped cautiously onto the snow. The tiger’s scent was thick here—exactly as he’d guessed, it had left only moments ago.
And because it had left only moments ago, Lin Jiangye suspected it hadn’t truly gone far at all. It was probably hiding somewhere, watching them.
That instinct had no “reason”—it was just something he’d learned after nine years dealing with animals in the other world.
Not knowing whether the tiger would attack, Lin Jiangye worked fast. He dumped stop-bleeding powder and disinfectant straight into the poacher’s wound—completely unconcerned whether the pain might kill him—then slapped on a rough bandage and started dragging him toward the car.
By now, Bixi had retreated into the narrow space between the driver and passenger seats. The humans’ scent was strongest there, and it made the raven feel safer.
But the moment the middle cabin door opened, and Lin Jiangye threw the man in and reached to close it, a yellow-and-black blur shot out from the trees—nearly lunging straight into the cabin.
“Lin Jiangye!!!”
[Human!!!]
Bixi didn’t even have time to be afraid. For the first time, it felt real terror—not because it saw a predator, but because that predator was pouncing at the human it loved most.
No… no no no no! Crow didn’t want to be handed off to someone else again!
In that split second, Bixi forced its instincts down and flew toward Lin Jiangye.
But before it could reach him, a hand snatched the raven midair. “Are you out of your mind, Bixi?!”
Lin Jiangye’s posture was twisted in a brutal, impossible way—
His right hand had seized the raven.
His left hand was pinning down the tiger’s reaching paw.
His right leg was braced against the tiger’s chest.
And his left foot was pressing the door-close switch.
Beep— the door began sliding shut.
Gritting his teeth, Lin Jiangye shoved with his whole body and kicked the tiger out of the cabin.
“I have no hostility toward you. This person needs to be taken back and handed to the police. I’m not his accomplice.”
Whether the tiger understood or not, it withdrew with Lin Jiangye’s force, backing out of the cabin—yet its copper-bell eyes remained locked on him from outside.
Once Lin Jiangye could finally sit up properly, he hugged the shaking Bixi and patted it to soothe it, while watching the tiger through the window.
But the moment he saw blood on the tiger’s leg, the relief on his face vanished.
“It’s injured!”
Outside, the tiger stared at them for a long time, then turned as if to leave. Suddenly its ear twitched; it snapped its head toward a direction—
And the next second, it became a bolt of lightning and vanished into the forest.
That image set off alarms in Lin Jiangye’s mind. From the tiger’s reaction, someone was approaching from that direction.
In this zone, the only humans should be: the two of them; the chief’s group; and the remaining two poachers.
The chief’s group was behind them—on the road they’d come from.
But the tiger had looked toward the front—the direction ahead of the car.
So whoever was coming… was obvious.
Lin Jiangye shoved the raven into Shang Fuyan’s arms so he could keep calming the stunned Bixi, then swung back into the driver’s seat.
The instant he sat down, two staggering figures appeared not far ahead.
“Good. Found you.” Lin Jiangye bared his teeth, the feral edge flashing in his eyes.
He slammed the accelerator and drove straight at them. The sudden move terrified the two men.
They had no time—and no space—to dodge. They could only watch the vehicle rush in—
Thump!
Both men crashed backward into the snow, everything in their hands flying out.
Lin Jiangye didn’t actually hit them directly. It was the same trick as before: brake hard at the last instant, use momentum to shove them down.
The force was perfect—dazed, but no brain damage.
Before they could even process what happened, Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan jumped out, pinned them in the snow, and—
Click.
Silver cuffs snapped shut around their wrists.
“Police? You’re police? How did you get here so fast?” The two poachers struggled violently once they realized who they were.
But mid-sentence, the speaker’s head was seized by Lin Jiangye and shoved hard into the thick snow.
“Keep yapping and I’ll rip your tongues out!” Lin Jiangye’s grip was so tight the veins stood out on the back of his hand.
The man froze. If he struggled again, he’d be smothered to death in the snow. So he let Lin Jiangye drag him by the collar and throw him into the cabin.
Bang—he slammed right onto his injured partner’s wound. Blood seeped out again through the fresh bandage.
Lin Jiangye didn’t care. He only needed them alive.
He needed to pry the mastermind’s identity out of their mouths.
So for now, they couldn’t die.
He returned to where they’d fallen and checked the weapons they’d dropped. Besides the required rifle, there was also a tranquilizer gun—almost identical to the one issued by the Forestry Bureau.
Lin Jiangye narrowed his eyes, gathered everything up, and decided to hand it all to the chief later.
When he got back, Shang Fuyan told him what he’d noticed: “Their legs were probably attacked—looks like fractures. That’s why they couldn’t run.”
Thinking of the tiger’s own injured leg, Lin Jiangye suspected they’d clashed once already, and neither side had come out unscathed.
He shot the two conscious poachers a cold glance, preparing to deliver them to the chief—
when Shang Fuyan suddenly said, “Why is there a used tranquilizer dart here?”
Both of them froze at the same time, then whirled to stare at the poachers in the cabin.
“You used that tranquilizer dart on the Amur tiger?”
The two men clamped their mouths shut and refused to speak, but after Lin Jiangye gave them a brutal lesson, they finally whimpered, “W-We did, but we misjudged the dosage… so it got away…”
Before he could finish, Lin Jiangye punched him again. The man’s head lolled and he dropped straight into unconsciousness. The other one trembled like a leaf, shrinking into the corner like a quail.
“How did its leg get injured? Grazed by a bullet?”
Faced with Lin Jiangye’s storm-dark expression, the last man didn’t want to answer at all—but he knew his outcome would be even worse if he stayed silent.
“N-No… it wasn’t a graze. The bullet’s still in its leg.”
Lin Jiangye’s heart sank. He shot the man an icy look. The man immediately panicked, about to say something—then a sharp pain exploded in his jaw, and… and he knew nothing after that.
“Send them back first. Then I need to catch up again,” Lin Jiangye said. A bullet lodged in flesh would inflame; if they didn’t remove it in time, the tiger’s leg could be ruined.
And if they didn’t restrain that Amur tiger now, once it disappeared into the deep mountains, finding it again would be nearly impossible.
After receiving the information, the chief rushed over at once and took custody of the three poachers in the cabin.
“That Amur tiger… we can pretty much guess who it is,” the chief said, exhaling a plume of white mist.
Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan looked over, curious. The chief smiled and explained, “It’s a miracle of our Taibai Mountain.”
Back then, Taibai Mountain couldn’t find a single wild Amur tiger that could reproduce. No—maybe the entire country couldn’t.
And then, at that critical moment, a female Amur tiger crossed a border line of more than a thousand kilometers, arrived at Taibai Mountain, formed a family with several male tigers, and successfully raised new cubs. ?
The injection of fresh genes gave China’s wild Amur tigers a brand-new hope—new vitality.
“And that was when we started strengthening our environmental protection efforts. Only then did the wild Amur tigers—on the verge of extinction—slowly multiply to the dozens we have today.” The chief was a local; he knew better than anyone how dire it had been.
So to him, that female tiger was nothing less than Taibai Mountain’s guardian spirit—China’s miracle.
The two men were stunned. No wonder the chief called it a miracle—this truly was China’s miracle.
“The reason we’re sure it’s her is because we’ve tracked her before. Even when we faced her head-on, she had no real malice toward us—mostly just intimidation.” The chief glanced at Lin Jiangye, perfectly intact. These two young men were lucky this time; if it hadn’t been the mountain’s guardian spirit, Lin Jiangye wouldn’t be standing here talking.
Lin Jiangye nodded silently and rubbed his wrist and ankle. When the tiger lunged, it clearly hadn’t used full strength—otherwise his leg would already be broken.
As it was, he’d only sprained it slightly.
“No matter what, we have to find her first,” Lin Jiangye let out a long breath and stuffed the raven into the chief’s arms.
“This is my kid—Bixi. The tiger scared it half to death. I’m worried it might have a stress reaction or something. When you head down the mountain, please take it to a vet for a check-up.”
Ever since the doors closed, Bixi had remained in a dazed, blank state. Lin Jiangye’s heart ached just looking at it.
But the moment Bixi landed in the chief’s arms, it started struggling.
“No! I don’t want to! I don’t want to!” it shrieked, fighting to get back into Lin Jiangye’s arms.
Lin Jiangye pressed one finger on its head, stopping it cold. “You’re going to get checked. You’re going to rest. When you wake up, I’ll be back.”
Bixi cried and wailed so pitifully that even Shang Fuyan and the chief felt their hearts squeeze. “Why not just take it along? It’s already seen the tiger anyway.”
But Lin Jiangye still refused. He knew Bixi’s condition was wrong.
For a young raven, Bixi had already been unbelievably brave—but that didn’t mean it could keep enduring shock after shock.
What Bixi needed now was a truly safe place, and time to slowly release the fear it had forced down.
Lin Jiangye explained it carefully, again and again—this wasn’t him refusing to bring it; it was that it needed to stop and rest.
“Go back and sleep properly. When you wake up, I’ll be back.”
Bixi kept sobbing. “You won’t abandon me, right?”
“Of course not. You, Zang’ao, Diamond and Opal, German Shepherd and Border Collie—so long as you don’t leave me, I won’t leave you.” He hugged Bixi and showered it with kisses and gentle pats until the little thing finally loosened its wings.
Before leaving Lin Jiangye, Bixi pressed close to his ear and whispered, “Dad… Crow will wait for you to come back.”
In an instant, it felt as though a hundred fireworks bloomed inside Lin Jiangye’s eyes.
He’d never imagined a raven would call him “Dad.” To be precise, he’d never imagined any of the little ones he raised would one day call him that.
He’d never taught them how to address him. They could copy other humans and call his name, or just call him “human”—he truly didn’t care.
But now, the raven he’d raised had learned to say “Dad.”
Oh my god… he suddenly understood why human parents felt that kind of joy—watching their child babble for ages, and then one day clearly say, “Mom,” “Dad.”
Shang Fuyan didn’t know what the raven had said. He only saw Lin Jiangye go completely still—then his eyes flared with brilliant light, and his lashes reddened.
What on earth did the raven say?!
“Bixi… Dad loves you. Be good and go back to sleep. When you wake up, Dad will be back.” Lin Jiangye held Bixi as gently as if it were a newborn baby, terrified he might hurt it with the slightest force.
After they nuzzled each other, he placed the raven back into the chief’s arms. “I’m leaving my kid to you.”
The chief lifted an eyebrow. He didn’t understand why Lin Jiangye had suddenly turned like this, but he didn’t pry—only patted his chest and promised he’d take good care of the raven.
Once the two men got back in the car, Shang Fuyan finally asked what Bixi had done.
And the moment Lin Jiangye started talking, he became instantly excited again. “My kid called me ‘Dad’!”
He sounded exactly like every brand-new father, chattering nonstop about the moment the raven called him “Dad.”
Shang Fuyan listened quietly, and a thought flashed through his mind.
As they climbed higher and higher, Lin Jiangye also calmed down, focusing on the signs around them.
His nose remembered the tiger’s scent—especially the blood smell from its injured leg, which was strikingly obvious in this snow.
Footprints plus blood meant it was almost impossible for them to go the wrong way.
“The tiger didn’t even bother hiding the blood scent. Besides humans, who else would dare follow its footprints?” Which, of course, made tracking it far easier for them.
Shang Fuyan braced one hand on the door handle and checked the messages the chief’s side was sending.
The moment the Forestry Bureau and border inspection teams learned the “mountain guardian” tiger was injured, everyone mobilized.
Its status in their hearts wasn’t the same as an ordinary tiger’s. If another tiger got hurt, as long as it wasn’t fatal, they might not intervene. But this one? Absolutely not.
With their help, the tiger’s location was quickly confirmed.
“They say the mountain guardian has already returned to her cave.” The moment Shang Fuyan finished speaking, an intense push slammed into his back again.
Great. Lin Jiangye was accelerating again.
What could Shang Fuyan do? He could only grip the handles with both hands so the car wouldn’t shake him senseless.
Not long after, they reached the area near the cave.
Lin Jiangye deliberately made some noise, but the pitch-black entrance remained silent. If not for the footprints pointing straight here, they would’ve doubted there was even a tiger inside.
They waited, and still nothing.
Lin Jiangye hesitated. Thinking of the tranquilizer dart the poachers had used—though the dose was low, it could still have a short-lived effect—he wondered if the tiger had collapsed inside.
So he made a decision, grabbed the first-aid kit, and jumped out of the car.
“LIN JIANGYE!” Shang Fuyan was furious. He couldn’t even remember how many times he’d called Lin Jiangye by his full name today.
Every time he used the full name, it meant Lin Jiangye had done something that made him explode.
“Stay in the car—don’t get out!” Lin Jiangye knew it was reckless, but he couldn’t waste time. The longer the bullet stayed embedded, the higher the risk of infection.
No one knew what the bullet was made of, or how long it had been stored.
Since the miracle tiger never killed humans, he chose to gamble.
Standing at the cave entrance, Lin Jiangye took a deep breath—then plunged straight in.
It was deep. The farther in he went, the dimmer it became, until he couldn’t even see his own hand.
The cave smelled sour and rank. The faint blood scent was completely masked. The tiger’s presence was so thick that Lin Jiangye couldn’t tell where it was lying.
He crouched and spoke softly. “I’m here to remove the bullet from your hind leg. A foreign object stuck in your flesh… you can’t possibly feel comfortable.”
He waited. Still no sound.
Lin Jiangye had no choice. He sighed. “If you won’t answer… then I’m turning on the light, okay?”
He pulled out his phone and switched on the flashlight—
—and a massive head was directly in front of him.
“ROAR!”
The sudden roar echoed through the cave. Shang Fuyan completely lost it outside. He lifted the tranquilizer gun and started toward the entrance. “Jiangye! Are you okay?!”
“Don’t come in! I’m fine!” Only then did Shang Fuyan finally exhale in relief.
What Shang Fuyan didn’t know was that Lin Jiangye was currently pinned to the ground by the miracle tiger’s paw, unable to move.
When the tiger’s head appeared, Lin Jiangye instinctively tried to retreat—but he was never faster than a big cat. The Amur tiger lifted one paw and effortlessly slammed him to the ground.
“ROAR!” The tiger opened its jaws and snarled at him.
[Human, what are you doing here?]
Lin Jiangye endured the pain in his shoulder and nudged the first-aid kit with his left hand. “To take the bullet out… I really don’t mean any harm. I don’t have a weapon on me. You can check.”
He let go and lay spread-eagle on the ground, pitiful and utterly at the tiger’s mercy.
The tiger’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flashing through them. [You can understand?]
Lin Jiangye nodded obediently. “Yes. I heard from the chief down at the station that the Forestry Bureau has met you a few times, and you never attacked them—so I worked up the nerve to come in and gamble.”
[Gamble what?]
A bright grin bloomed on Lin Jiangye’s face. “That you wouldn’t kill me, and you wouldn’t attack me on purpose.”
That pounce just now didn’t even count as an “attack” for the tiger—more like a casual paw.
The tiger hadn’t expected a human to gamble with his life on a tiger like this.
If he’d lost, he’d be dead.
Lin Jiangye let out a sheepish heh-heh. Even the tiger looked helpless.
“So… can you let me go now? I’ll take the bullet out for you first. Aren’t you uncomfortable like this?” Lin Jiangye’s shoulder hurt more and more; he suspected he’d been swollen by the paw strike.
After a long, silent standoff, the tiger finally lifted its paw and sat off to the side, watching him coldly.
Lin Jiangye sat up quickly, used the flashlight to rummage for tools in the kit—and then heard the tiger say:
[Where is your little raven?]
Lin Jiangye stared at it, surprised. He hadn’t expected it to notice Bixi at all.
The tiger read the question on his face and patiently explained. [Back then, I saw it look like it was going to rush over and block for you. I didn’t expect you to react so fast.]
Lin Jiangye’s smile faded. He fell silent for a moment, then said softly, “I didn’t expect it to overcome instinct and fly at me either. I’m… glad, too.”
He hadn’t expected to catch Bixi. Maybe he’d grabbed cats so many times at home that when something flew past, he instinctively pinned it.
Now that the tiger said it out loud, Lin Jiangye felt cold sweat crawl up his spine.
If… no. Don’t think about it.
He forced the thought away, heart still thudding, and pulled out the tools. “Alright. Stretch out the injured leg.”
—
Outside, Shang Fuyan waited alone at the entrance. He could hear faint voices inside, and his heart slowly settled.
If Lin Jiangye could talk, then the tiger hadn’t harmed him—at least not yet.
But when the cave fell quiet again, Shang Fuyan’s heart rose back to his throat. “Jiangye?”
“I’m here. I’m fine. She didn’t do anything to me. I’m removing the bullet now,” Lin Jiangye answered, his voice steady—just like usual. Shang Fuyan pressed a hand to his chest. He’d never been this nervous even staking out criminals.
After another long while, just as the chief’s side was about to arrive, Lin Jiangye finally came out.
“Got it out. Put medicine on it. And I told her I’ll come change the dressing every day.” Before going in, Lin Jiangye had been clean. Coming out, he looked like a mud-covered doll.
He couldn’t help it. He’d been pinned to the ground—how could he not be filthy?
Luckily, the tiger was a clean tiger. The cave was mostly earth and not much else, and the smell wasn’t too bad.
“You drive back. I’ll sit in the back,” Lin Jiangye said. Aside from not wanting to dirty the driver’s seat, it was also because he could barely lift his arm.
A faint stabbing pain radiated from his shoulder. He guessed a claw had torn through fabric and scraped his skin, and it had started swelling.
Shang Fuyan immediately noticed the stiffness and asked, “Your arm—”
He stopped mid-sentence when Lin Jiangye lifted a finger to his lips. “Let’s go back first. I smell like tiger right now. I can’t go see Little White Deer and the others.”
Shang Fuyan understood. To the little ones, Lin Jiangye now smelled like a giant predator—no cuddling, no kisses, no petting. Not a chance.
They’d left at around four in the morning. Six hours had passed. They’d been running nonstop without eating or drinking, and Lin Jiangye had stayed taut with nerves inside the cave.
Not because he feared the tiger would attack him—more because he feared he’d accidentally hurt her while removing the bullet, and she’d reflexively kick him flying.
If she kicked him, he’d break ribs.
At least a few ribs.
The moment they reached safety, Lin Jiangye’s tension snapped. The car rocked and swayed, and before long he was sprawled in the back, half-asleep.
When they returned to the courtyard, Shang Fuyan glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Lin Jiangye sleeping soundly. His feelings tangled into a knot.
Relief, awe, gratitude, pride, heartache—everything mixed together. In more than twenty years of living, Shang Fuyan had never felt so overwhelmed.
Just as he reached to carry Lin Jiangye down, Lin Jiangye stirred on his own.
“Mmm… we’re back?”
Shang Fuyan felt a flicker of regret, sighed silently, and helped him out. “Just arrived. I was about to wake you.”
Lin Jiangye yawned, tried to stretch—and the instant his arm moved, pain shot through him. “Hiss!”
“What is going on with you?” Only now did Shang Fuyan see his shoulder properly: it was slightly swollen.
The pain jolted Lin Jiangye fully awake. He waved a hand. “The tiger pinned me down. Probably scraped me with a claw. Feels like it’s inflamed. I’ll shower and then put medicine on it.”
Shang Fuyan looked helpless. Why didn’t he say anything earlier?
Before Lin Jiangye went to shower, he insisted Shang Fuyan shower too. “You stink like tiger as well. After the hospital, we’ll pick up Bixi from the station. I promised it I’d come back as soon as it woke up.”
He was a Dad now. He couldn’t be a lying parent!
Shang Fuyan couldn’t help laughing a little.
It was the first time he’d seen someone get this excited over a pet calling them “Dad.”
Lin Jiangye nodded, then shook his head. “I’ve always thought of them as family—or friends. But I never asked what I specifically am to them.”
He could feel Bixi treated him like family, but was it father? brother? something else? He’d never asked.
“I didn’t expect such a huge surprise today…” Lin Jiangye’s eyes turned watery again.
Shang Fuyan shook his head. Lin Jiangye looked happier now than he had even when facing the Amur tiger.
If this were a comic, flowers would be blooming all around him.
“Calling you Dad—when you’re a kid yourself…” Shang Fuyan muttered, then slipped into the bathroom before Lin Jiangye could catch it.
After thoroughly washing the scent off themselves—and washing the car clean as well—the two of them finally drove to the hospital.
By then, the injury on Lin Jiangye’s shoulder looked downright frightening. From his shoulder down to half his chest, the skin was red and swollen.
“Amur tigers really are something—so strong.”
Shang Fuyan, who was driving, almost rolled his eyes. He also kind of wanted to pin the young man down and smack him. At a time like this, you’re still praising it?
Sure enough, when they arrived at the hospital, even the doctor was startled by the sight of the wound. Then, after hearing it happened because an Amur tiger pinned him down and scratched him, the doctor was startled all over again.
Luckily, after an examination, it turned out there was nothing serious—just ordinary inflammation.
As for why the injured area was so large… well, don’t forget how huge a tiger’s paw is. One press like that—and the fact it hadn’t hurt his heart at all meant the tiger had been careful.
After the bandaging was done, Lin Jiangye went to the police station and saw Bixi curled into a ball, sleeping.
Maybe because they’d been around cats and dogs for so long, all three crows had learned to sleep curled up—either in a tight little ball or like a tiny blanket draped over another animal.
When Lin Jiangye arrived, Bixi was still sleeping soundly, making soft little rumbling noises.
“You were right,” the chief said. “The kid was under way too much mental pressure. Once we got down the mountain, it started crying and cawing nonstop—cried for more than ten minutes before it finally fell asleep.”
Seeing the wound on Lin Jiangye’s body, the chief’s face filled with guilt.
This should’ve had nothing to do with Lin Jiangye. Catching poachers was the job of their officers and the Forestry Bureau. An outsider shouldn’t have been risking his life to help—and now he’d even gotten hurt…
“I’m definitely applying for a Good Samaritan award for you! And those guys were wanted criminals—when the bounty comes through, I’ll transfer that to you too. Seriously, we owe you big today!”
Not only had he earned the Deer King’s trust—so when something happened, the Deer King’s first thought was to report it to Lin Jiangye—but he’d also marched straight into the mountain guardian’s cave alone, something even the Forestry Bureau people wouldn’t dare do!
“And didn’t you say you wanted to see a golden eagle? I already talked to them. After owing you a favor this huge, they’ll definitely help grant such a small wish!”
Lin Jiangye just wanted to look, not touch—what was the big deal?
Besides, he’d already earned the mountain guardian’s trust. He was basically one of them now. What reason would there be not to let him see a golden eagle?
At this point Lin Jiangye was sleepy, exhausted, and starving. After a brief chat with the chief, he excused himself.
Not just the two of them—everyone in the station was running on fumes.
The murder case from before still wasn’t fully wrapped up, and now a poaching case had dropped on top of it. They were desperately short-handed.
So the chief said he’d already requested reinforcements from higher-ups to send more people over.
Lin Jiangye didn’t care how they handled it. He just wanted to go back and sleep.
They grabbed something quick to eat outside while holding Bixi, then rushed back to the courtyard. Once they lay down on the warm kang bed, it only took a moment before soft snoring filled the room.
They slept deeply—both of them—straight from midday until around seven or eight in the evening. The first to wake was Bixi.
The raven opened its eyes. Feeling the familiar smells and warmth around it, the anxious, restless unease that had clung to it even in sleep finally settled.
It lay quietly between Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan, savoring the calm.
But the calm didn’t last long.
Suddenly, the raven sensed a terrifying presence outside the courtyard.
It cautiously lifted its head. The presence didn’t seem to be trying to break in—it was simply waiting outside.
Bixi hesitated, then gently fluttered its wings and slipped out of the warm bedding.
It tugged the window open little by little, making a gap just big enough for itself, then squeezed out quickly.
Outside the courtyard gate, a big cat lay there in silence.
“W-What are you doing here?! I’m warning you—don’t you dare hurt the people inside!” the raven snapped. “My dad is in there! I’m protecting my dad!”
Bixi stood atop the wall by the gate. Maybe it had grown used to that scent now—because facing the Amur tiger directly, it didn’t tremble at all.
The tiger slowly raised its head. Seeing it was a little crow, its gaze softened.
“So it’s you, little one.”
That lively attitude… looks like the human must’ve comforted it properly afterward.
