Chapter 44: Compensation from the Mountain Guardian
This nap lasted straight from noon until night. When Lin Jiangye woke up, his whole head felt foggy.
Not only him—after Shang Fuyan woke up, staring at the pitch-black surroundings, he also took a long time to come back to himself.
He lay on the heated kang bed, feeling the warm presence beside him, and suddenly his heart started to itch a little.
The past few days had been busier than usual, with one thing after another happening—but this was also his first time sharing a bed with Lin Jiangye.
…Provided you ignored the raven lying between them.
“What time is it?” the young man asked hoarsely. One hand groped around in the dark, trying to find his phone. But after the raven had left, the two of them had ended up too close—so when Lin Jiangye reached out, his palm landed squarely on Shang Fuyan’s lower abdomen.
Shang Fuyan: “!!!”
He jolted awake instantly. Thank goodness the quilt was still covering them—otherwise, with Lin Jiangye touching him like that in the dark, who knew what would happen?!
Lin Jiangye had no idea Shang Fuyan was internally blowing up. He kept feeling around until he finally grabbed a rectangular device.
When he turned it on, a strange lock screen lit up—an image of crows gathered at the entrance of a police station. Clearly not his phone.
But the screen lighting up let him see the time anyway.
“It’s already past ten at night… no wonder I’m hungry again.”
He rubbed his eyes and had just sat up when he heard a soft tap-tap-tap from outside.
Following the sound, he saw Bixi lightly pecking at the window. When it noticed both of them were awake, it flung its wings open happily, its little black bead-eyes sparkling.
“Dad!”
Lin Jiangye’s heart melted instantly—he was about to respond when he saw, behind the raven, a tiger’s head suddenly rise into view.
To be honest, the moment he saw that, Lin Jiangye felt like his heart stopped beating.
Luckily Shang Fuyan caught the oddity immediately.
“Wasn’t the raven sleeping between us? When did it get outside?”
Right—when did it go out? And judging by this, it didn’t look like it had just slipped out.
And why was this Amur tiger here again? What did it want?
Then the two humans witnessed something even more baffling—
Once the tiger appeared, the raven not only wasn’t afraid—it hopped straight onto the tiger’s head. And the tiger didn’t care at all, wearing that indulgent, elder-looking-after-a-younger expression.
“I must be going blind…” Lin Jiangye wanted to rub his eyes again. Yesterday in broad daylight, Bixi had been scared half to death by the tiger—almost stress-reacting. And not even a full day later, these two were playing together?
What on earth happened while he was asleep?!
Lin Jiangye slapped his own face. The sting snapped him fully awake.
“I’m not dreaming!”
This bizarre scene was actually happening in real life!
Shang Fuyan was equally stunned by the raven’s behavior. After Lin Jiangye spoke, he actually calmed down faster.
“This isn’t a dream.” If it were a dream, he wouldn’t be dreaming about a raven and an Amur tiger.
Lin Jiangye sucked in a breath. Watching how excited Bixi looked, his earlier shock slowly faded. He rubbed his chest hard—then accidentally hit his wound and hissed in pain, baring his teeth.
“Careful…” Shang Fuyan looked at him, anxious and annoyed, yet weirdly amused.
Really—what kind of dad, what kind of kid. The dad was unreliable, so the son was unreliable too.
Lin Jiangye stopped touching the injury, got dressed carefully, and pushed the door open.
Outside, the tiger was sprawled on the snow. The raven bounced all over it.
And—unbelievably—this tiger-and-raven duo had even piled up a snowball in the yard.
“You two—” Lin Jiangye had only managed two words when the tiger suddenly stood up, trotted to a corner, and dragged over a long, stick-like thing in its mouth. With a thunk, it dropped it right in front of him.
When he saw what it was, both Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan froze again.
It was ginseng—freshly dug, still clotted with dirt.
Shang Fuyan crouched to check it. The digging job wasn’t clean; quite a few fine roots had snapped.
But it was wild ginseng, and the age was easily over a hundred years. If you tossed it into an auction…
Mm. It probably wouldn’t fetch some sky-high price—those broken roots ruined the appearance.
But if it was used medicinally, it still wouldn’t be cheap. Quality was quality.
Meaning: the tiger had brought Lin Jiangye a wild ginseng worth at least a million.
Shang Fuyan almost wanted to take a picture and send it to his family’s old master—but if the old man saw those ragged roots, he’d probably clutch his heart and start cursing.
Forget it… better not torment the elderly.
Besides, even if the roots were damaged, it was already mind-blowing that a tiger could recognize ginseng and dig it up at all. You couldn’t exactly demand it preserve every single hair-thin root like a professional human harvester.
Humans themselves can’t always do that!
“Here,” the tiger said. It lay down again and licked its paw, then lifted its head to look at Lin Jiangye.
Lin Jiangye was still staring at the ginseng in a daze. Hearing the tiger speak, he pointed at himself.
“Huh? For me?”
The tiger nodded and pushed the ginseng toward him with its paw.
“You’re injured. Compensation.”
So it really had heard what Shang Fuyan said back at the cave entrance.
Lin Jiangye suddenly felt a little emotional. He shook his head and pushed the ginseng back.
“That’s too valuable. You didn’t do it on purpose. I’m just… too weak.”
Shang Fuyan looked at Lin Jiangye with a gloomy gaze and twitched hard at the corner of his mouth.
That line made it sound like anyone could endure it.
These days, no human on earth can tank a tiger’s paw with bare flesh—especially an Amur tiger. An adult female’s paw strike can reach eight to nine hundred kilograms. If it really slapped down with full force, even a car could suffer, let alone a person.
Just like Lin Jiangye said: the tiger clearly hadn’t intended to attack him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be dealing with mere inflammation.
The tiger went silent for a moment too, as if it hadn’t expected this human to take the blame onto himself.
What a foolish kid.
Just like that little raven.
What kind of person, what kind of bird.
Lin Jiangye and Bixi both sneezed at the same time.
Shang Fuyan hurried them back into the room—tiger and ginseng included.
Back in the warmth, Bixi instantly became livelier.
“When I give something, it’s yours. I never take it back.”
A domineering CEO line, coming out of a tiger’s mouth, and somehow it didn’t feel wrong at all.
Lin Jiangye wanted to say more, but meeting the tiger’s gentle, patient eyes, his refusal got stuck in his throat.
He suddenly felt like he was being fed by an elder—yet the one sitting in front of him was literally a tiger. By age alone, he might even be older.
But maybe… that was the “mountain guardian” aura.
Lin Jiangye’s lips moved, and in the end all he managed—face burning—was a quiet, “Thank you.”
The tiger let out a low chuckle. Seeing him put everything away, it prepared to leave.
“Wait—!” Lin Jiangye lunged forward without thinking and hugged the tiger.
Shang Fuyan nearly fainted from the sight.
But for Lin Jiangye, that hug came with a surprise.
The tigress was really clean—only a faint wild, bloody musk and a trace of the medicine smell. The outer guard hairs were a little coarse, but when you hugged the whole body, it was warm and soft.
So comfortable… wow.
The tiger flinched slightly, startled by the sudden embrace. It was about to growl and make the human let go, but as it lifted its paw, it remembered the human’s shoulder injury.
If it pressed down…
That wound would only worsen.
The tiger fell into an awkward dilemma: it wanted the human to release it, but the human just buried his face in its fur and rubbed all over it—exactly like that raven—refusing to listen.
“Fine, fine. I’ll stay, alright?”
The tiger’s voice was packed with helplessness.
Hearing it agree to stay, Bixi was the second happiest creature after Lin Jiangye.
“Play! Play!”
Shang Fuyan was completely speechless. He held his forehead and looked at the tiger with a pitiful, desperate gaze.
How could you just agree?!
The tiger looked back, equally helpless—then glanced at Lin Jiangye.
Then you deal with him! How is he still clinging to me?!
Shang Fuyan had no choice. He dragged a hand down his face and went into the kitchen to thaw ingredients.
After the two humans, one tiger, and one raven finished eating, sleepiness swept over them again. Lin Jiangye and the raven were absurdly bold—they even let the tiger hop onto the kang bed to sleep.
They said the kang was warmer than a cave.
Shang Fuyan didn’t want to talk anymore. He just watched as the tiger made a light hop, curled down beside Lin Jiangye, and soon began rumbling with a tractor-like purr.
Lin Jiangye and the raven also fell asleep quickly. Only Shang Fuyan sat there, looking left and right, feeling unsafe no matter where he looked.
But he couldn’t change Lin Jiangye’s mind. In the end, he lay down too, planning to stay awake for a few hours and keep an eye on the tiger.
Yet somehow, amid those steady purring sounds, his eyelids slowly sank. Before long, his breathing evened out.
At that moment, the tiger—who they’d assumed fell asleep first—was still wide-eyed, looking at the three “kids” beside it, and shook its head in exasperation.
Maybe because of the mountain guardian’s aura, this sleep was even deeper than before. When Shang Fuyan woke, he felt as if every bit of physical and mental exhaustion had been wiped clean.
That refreshed clarity was something he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.
While he lay there staring blankly at the ceiling, playful noises came from outside. He sat up and looked—and saw Lin Jiangye in the yard, building a snowman with Bixi and the Amur tiger.
Huh???
Building a snowman—with a raven and an Amur tiger?
Shang Fuyan closed his eyes slowly, then opened them again. The scene hadn’t changed.
Alright. After one sleep, those three had fully become best buddies.
He put on his coat and went outside. On the snow already stood a snow-raven, a snow-tiger, and a snowman.
Now the three of them were working on another snowman.
“Shang Fuyan, hurry up and help! You’re the last one missing!” Lin Jiangye waved at him excitedly, completely ignoring the fact his shoulder still hurt, running around outside anyway.
Shang Fuyan looked at him with helplessness and a trace of indulgence. Then, thinking about what Lin Jiangye had just said, his heart in his chest suddenly thumped hard.
So this snowman set… was the four of them?
Could he refuse? Absolutely not.
So when the chief and the others arrived at the courtyard, what they saw first were four snow figures lined up neatly—two snowmen, one snow-raven, and one white-snow Amur tiger.
Before they could even process what was going on, the door opened not far away.
A real Amur tiger—reeked of medicine—walked out.
Everyone froze solid. Only after the tiger ignored them and walked off for quite a distance did they finally exhale like they’d escaped death.
“Wait—there’s an Amur tiger here—”
Mid-sentence, the chief abruptly realized who this tiger must be.
“No way…”
It was one thing for the Deer King and the little deer to be “bewitched” by Lin Jiangye…
But even an Amur tiger couldn’t escape his hands?
Lin Jiangye’s head poked out from inside.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you cold standing outside?”
They’d seen the chief coming and had hurriedly finished medicating the tiger precisely because they were worried the tiger would get impatient with too many living creatures packed into one room.
But now the tiger had left—so why still weren’t they coming in?
Snapped back by Lin Jiangye’s voice, the chief finally noticed his own back was damp with cold sweat.
They rushed indoors to warm up. Once inside, seeing the bandage on Lin Jiangye’s shoulder—and remembering he’d been perfectly fine two days ago—they immediately understood where the injury came from.
The chief’s eyes turned watery.
This injury was clearly from yesterday’s operation. Why didn’t this foolish kid tell them?
But Lin Jiangye didn’t care. He pointed at the wild ginseng on the table, beaming.
“What’s there to fear? I’ve got ginseng to replenish my body!”
Everyone followed his finger to the ginseng. Seeing its quality, each one clutched their chest in pain.
“No! Those roots are wasted! Who dug this up?!”
The chief’s expression abruptly changed. He grabbed Lin Jiangye and demanded,
“This wasn’t you who dug it, right?!”
Harvesting wild ginseng needs official permits—otherwise it’s illegal.
Then came an even more shocking answer:
“The mountain guardian gave it to me as compensation.”
The chief froze. Everyone else froze too.
Every word made sense individually, but together it became incomprehensible.
“Who?”
Lin Jiangye’s grin grew even brighter.
“The mountain guardian—this tiger! It came last night with the ginseng, said it was compensation for hurting me!”
Four “ohs” in a row made everyone’s blood pressure spike.
So what if you got wild ginseng? So what if the mountain guardian personally brought you a gift as an apology?
…Wuwuwu. Actually, it is kind of incredible.
If they’d known the mountain guardian was this friendly, they would’ve “gone for it” too!
Lin Jiangye just smiled. He hadn’t even told them the mountain guardian had slept beside him all night.
If he told that part too, he worried everyone would gang up and beat him—hehehe!
The chief and the others came mainly to update Lin Jiangye about the four poachers.
“They still won’t give up who the buyer behind the scenes is. Their phones are spotless too. We interrogated them all night—only for them to quietly admit they don’t dare expose that person. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be as simple as going to prison.” After saying this, the chief looked exhausted and dejected.
Deep down he understood: ordinary people usually don’t crave the fur of first-class protected animals. The ones who do… aren’t people a tiny local station like theirs can arrest.
Where there’s trade, there’s harm.
As long as those people don’t let go of their greed, poachers will keep appearing—and they’ll have to stay on guard, constantly.
“But no matter what, we still managed to catch those fugitives!” The chief gave a bitter smile, then his expression eased.
They’d long grown used to this kind of thing. Even so, they were still willing to spend a lifetime sparring with poachers just to protect wildlife.
As for what came next—well, that could be dealt with later.
Lin Jiangye didn’t say anything. Things like this never truly stopped; it could only be fought with endless patrols by local police and specialists.
Those poachers and people who trampled protected animals didn’t care how these species ended up. Endangered, extinct—it had nothing to do with them.
Looking at the raven beside him, a thought surfaced in Lin Jiangye’s mind.
“I have an idea.”
When everyone turned to look, he pointed at the crow nearby.
“There are tons of small birds in Taibai Mountain. They’re the best informants.”
Just like the crows in Yue City, he could help the local station communicate with the birds in the mountain and build a “trade relationship” between both sides.
“W-What… what do you mean?” The chief looked completely lost.
At this point, Shang Fuyan stepped in to explain: back in Yue City, almost every district bureau knew that if crows showed up at the station, it usually meant a case was happening.
Not just crows, either—other strays, when they noticed something abnormal, would also head to the nearest blue building to seek help.
Here, the mountain birds could play a similar role. And the weather was cold; food was scarce for birds. As long as the station put out some old grains—stale rice, millet, whatever—it would draw them in.
After hearing that, the people in front of them wore expressions that were both surprised and not surprised at all—surprised because they’d never thought to cooperate with “little creatures” in the mountains, and not surprised because animals “reporting” things wasn’t exactly unheard of.
Animals reporting incidents, animals seeking help—there were even cases of wild animals finding them while pregnant, essentially asking for assistance through a harsh pregnancy.
It was just that no one had ever laid that cooperation out clearly and openly like this before.
After all, they couldn’t understand what animals were saying.
They thought it over and felt the plan was genuinely workable. With the birds acting as informants, they could detect poachers—or people deliberately trespassing into restricted areas—much earlier.
More importantly, with these birds, they could quickly pinpoint locations and rescue or arrest anyone who went into the mountains.
“This is good—this is really good! Ah, seriously, thank you for putting so much thought into it!” The chief rubbed his hands hard, smiling so wide his wrinkles showed.
Lin Jiangye shook his head. Honestly, he was acting as a go-between to reduce harm to the mountain’s little ones. This way, not only would the birds benefit—other small animals would see there were real advantages too, and they’d start following suit.
And if they learned there was a fixed place to seek help, then even if Lin Jiangye wasn’t around, they’d still know where to go when trouble came.
After checking in on Lin Jiangye, the chief and the others left soon after.
Before leaving, the chief deliberately brought up the golden eagle.
“If you’re free right now, we can arrange it this afternoon!” he chuckled. After yesterday, the forestry bureau people had fully accepted Lin Jiangye’s ability and character.
When they heard he wanted to see a golden eagle, they patted their chests and promised—not only could he see it, he could even touch it.
“Touch it? For real?” Lin Jiangye felt like today was a blessed day. First he’d gotten to sleep beside an Amur tiger, and now he could touch a golden eagle?
Golden eagles are large raptors—fast flyers, and they love cliffs. Seeing one up close is already lucky. Touching one? That was insane.
The chief grinned. “Because they happen to have an injured golden eagle under treatment!”
So Lin Jiangye really was lucky. If he’d arrived two days later, that eagle would’ve been released back into the wild.
Hearing he could see the eagle, Lin Jiangye packed up quickly and drove to the forestry rescue station that afternoon.
The eagle they were rescuing had just reached adulthood. During a hunt, it charged too hard and slammed straight into a tree trunk.
At that explanation, both Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan couldn’t help it—they burst out laughing.
The golden eagle instantly felt wronged and started shrieking while stomping toward them like a ground chicken.
“Don’t laugh! Don’t laugh! You awful humans!”
If its wing hadn’t been injured, it would’ve pecked them hard, swear to god!
Lin Jiangye pressed one finger against its head, stopping it dead in its tracks.
The eagle, mocked mercilessly, got so angry it was practically about to cry. The worst part was the human who could understand beast speech—he even wanted to tell the eagle’s parents!
Damn it! It hated humans!
That night, back at the courtyard, Shang Fuyan suddenly said he had something to tell him.
The two men and the raven sat on the kang. After sighing, Shang Fuyan brought up his leave.
“I bought a flight for tomorrow. I only applied for ten days off. The day after tomorrow I have to go back to work.”
Lin Jiangye, who’d been having a great time in Taibai Mountain, froze. His gaze turned distant.
Right… Shang Fuyan had taken leave just to accompany him. He’d thought once they found the bodies, they could actually relax and enjoy the place.
But the case stayed messy. Even now the police were still trying to secure evidence against Jiang Chou. And after the murder case came the poachers—then the two of them had spent another two days running around.
So Shang Fuyan’s vacation was basically wiped out.
“Then…” Shang Fuyan’s voice dropped. He lowered his head, then tilted it slightly, looking up at the young man. His black pupils looked deep and dark.
“I’m going back. Are you coming with me?”
The bodies were found. The poachers were caught. He’d touched the sable, hugged the tiger, and even made the golden eagle cry from sheer embarrassment.
Pretty much everything they’d intended to do here had been done. So… shouldn’t they head back to Yue City together?
“You’ve been away for days. Your little ones must miss you. That Tibetan Mastiff is probably howling its head off.” The man shifted closer, shrinking the distance between them.
Lin Jiangye frowned. He thought of the Tibetan Mastiff and the others—days without seeing them.
This was his first time being away so long. He didn’t know how Jiang Xin was managing the little ones. He didn’t know if they were eating well, behaving, taking care of themselves.
The moment that thought hit, his heart couldn’t settle anymore.
“I think what you said—”
BANG BANG BANG—knocking interrupted him.
They turned. A huge tiger head poked in from outside.
“It’s a bit cold out there, so I came over.”
Lin Jiangye’s eyes lit up immediately. He rushed to welcome the tiger inside.
But this time the tiger didn’t hop onto the kang right away. It sat on the ground, staring at the young man.
“Are you going back?”
Shang Fuyan’s heart sank. A wave of dread rose in his chest.
Sure enough, the next second the tiger extended its injured leg.
“My wound isn’t healed yet. Can you stay a few more days?”
Lin Jiangye clutched his chest. The tiger’s eyes looked slightly wet—there was reluctance there, and a faint guilt…
Could he refuse a request from the mountain guardian?
Of course not!!!
“I… okay! I’ll stay a few more days. Once you’re better, I’ll go back!” This was a wild Amur tiger—Taibai Mountain’s guardian!
If he left too early, who knew whether he’d ever run into it again?
A tiger doesn’t stay in one spot forever. They migrate. What if, after he left, the guardian left Taibai Mountain too?
Where would he go to find it?
Shang Fuyan’s face turned iron-dark as he glared at the tiger. He was certain it was doing this on purpose.
But under his furious stare, the tiger only glanced at him coolly, then let out a low growl.
“You go first. I’ll take good care of the kid.”
