Chapter 45: Little Ones’ Real-World Rescue
[I’ll help you take care of them.]
“It said… uh, have a safe trip?” Lin Jiangye scratched his head and instinctively softened the Amur tiger’s meaning.
The moment the words left his mouth, three pairs of eyes locked onto him—Bixi’s confusion, the tiger’s helplessness, and Shang Fuyan’s suspicion.
Lin Jiangye had no idea why he’d edited it on the spot, but now it was too late—his lie had been caught red-handed.
Shang Fuyan had only been suspicious at first, but after seeing the raven and the tiger’s expressions, he was certain that low growl didn’t mean that.
“What did it actually say?”
Lin Jiangye rubbed his nose and muttered, “It said… it’ll help you take care of us…”
The moment he said it, Shang Fuyan’s already grim face turned completely black.
“Y-you…” His body trembled slightly—clearly this line was an emotional nuke, even though Lin Jiangye didn’t understand what was so wrong with it.
In the end, Shang Fuyan pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a long sigh.
He wasn’t sure if the tiger said it on purpose or by accident… but when he met its gaze—yep. Shang Fuyan was sure now. It was definitely on purpose.
So this really was the mountain guardian. Not only human-like… but wickedly human-like.
“…Forget it. Stay here and play for a few more days.” Shang Fuyan said it with a mouthful of bitterness.
Lin Jiangye glanced at him, puzzled. Why did Shang look like he was about to cry?
Hallucination. It has to be a hallucination.
That night, the two men and the raven happily slept together with the tiger again. Lin Jiangye even woke up once from the heat—when he realized the tiger had basically wrapped him in its “arms,” he quietly took off a layer and burrowed right back into its belly fur.
The fur on its back was a bit coarse, but its belly was the same as every cat in the world—soft and plush.
The next day, Lin Jiangye saw Shang Fuyan off at the airport.
Two men who looked like runway models walking together naturally drew endless double-takes—especially with a raven perched on the shorter one’s shoulder. It was ridiculously cool.
“Have a smooth flight. Message me when you land!” Lin Jiangye held Bixi’s wing and waved at Shang Fuyan.
[Be careful on the way~]
Lin Jiangye translated with a grin. Shang Fuyan’s brows instantly softened, and he gently ruffled Bixi’s head.
Before going through security, he hesitated—then set down his luggage, opened his arms, and pulled Lin Jiangye (and the raven in his arms) into a brief hug.
“Come back soon too. Don’t forget there’s a whole pack of little ones at home. And everyone at the bureau is waiting for you to return.” He held him for only a few seconds before letting go.
He looked at Lin Jiangye warmly, reminded him to keep warm, then grabbed his luggage and strode in—walking so fast it was like he was afraid he’d change his mind.
Only after Shang Fuyan’s figure disappeared did Lin Jiangye finally snap back to reality.
He kneaded his slightly burning ear, looking unusually flustered. “Why do I feel… kind of weird?”
Bixi lifted its head obediently, black-bean eyes full of confusion. [What’s weird?]
Lin Jiangye kept rubbing his ear, baffled. “I don’t know. It’s just… kind of hot…”
He shook his head and turned to leave. “Whatever. Forget it.”
The moment the man and the raven walked out of the airport entrance, Lin Jiangye’s phone rang. It was the chief—his voice urgent, asking where Lin Jiangye was right now.
“What’s going on?” From that tone, had another murder happened? Or did the earlier case go wrong?
Bad news: the chief did have trouble and needed Lin Jiangye’s help.
Good news: it wasn’t a murder case, and it wasn’t the earlier case.
Bad news: this time, they needed him to help find people.
“Find people?” Three enormous question marks practically popped above Lin Jiangye’s head.
“Yes…” The chief sounded helpless too. Yesterday Lin Jiangye had literally proposed cooperating with mountain animals—well, congratulations, they’d gone straight into live combat.
The station hadn’t even fully wrapped up the two previous cases, and early this morning they got a call: a group of hikers had gotten trapped in the forest. Supposedly they’d fallen off a cliff, and they couldn’t confirm their own location.
“……”
Lin Jiangye sighed. He suddenly felt like the Taibai Mountain station officers truly had it rough.
This was a tourist area, and it was mountain forest—winter snow season, too. When it got like this, tourists getting into trouble was basically guaranteed.
He rushed back to the station with the raven. The moment he arrived, a group of officers—faces like they’d aged several years—looked like they were about to burst into tears.
“Mr. Lin! Save us!”
Lin Jiangye took the file they handed him. It listed the trapped group: a bunch of “adventure hikers” who’d agreed to enter Taibai’s restricted zone, bragging they wanted to get a close look at first-class protected wildlife.
The person who called the police was another hiker from their chat group. He’d gotten worried when they stayed silent for too long, so he called.
Signal was terrible—broken fragments of speech, and the only clear words were cliff. Nothing else.
“……” Lin Jiangye fell silent—then suddenly laughed.
“Do we really have to save them? Can’t we just… let nature take its course?” He genuinely felt saving them was a waste. Sneaking into a forbidden area was one thing, but “close-up look at first-class protected animals”?
Taibai Mountain had eighteen first-class protected species: six mammals, eleven birds, and one insect. Which one did they want to see?
In this season, forget insects—that left mammals and birds. And out of those seventeen, half were the “don’t you dare” category.
Not to mention the obvious killers like tigers and leopards—if you piss off a sika deer, it can gore you to death with antlers. Wild deer aren’t docile like farmed ones. And their herd had just been through an incident; they’d be extremely wary of humans right now.
Among the first-class protected birds there were also plenty of raptors—golden eagles, vultures, and more. One swipe could tear flesh clean off a human.
The officers’ faces twitched. They were just as helpless. Every year they met people like this, and sometimes they’d also thought: Maybe we should stop rescuing idiots.
Let them die if they want to die.
But they couldn’t. Once they calmed down, they still had to trudge up the mountain and search—like oxen pulling carts.
“Mr. Lin…” Seeing their hesitant expressions, Lin Jiangye sighed deeply, wore a tragic face, and said, “Fine. I got it.”
He took the chief and the others and headed straight for the Taibai scenic area.
The scenic-area manager was already waiting at the foot of the mountain. With one disaster after another, he didn’t even know how many times he’d cried—now he looked completely numb.
When he saw the police arrive, both sides looked at each other with deep, mutual sympathy.
We’re all suffering souls, huh… sob.
Other tourists saw so many officers and immediately started whispering like crazy. “What’s going on now?”
This year Taibai Mountain had been anything but peaceful. A lot of people had canceled trips after hearing there’d been trouble up there.
Now, seeing a crowd of officers at the entrance, even the ones who’d come hesitated—retreat creeping into their hearts.
But then they saw something they’d never seen in their lives.
The young man with a raven on his shoulder raised a hand to his lips—and with one crisp whistle, the air stirred with soft rustling.
Then a flock of birds burst out of the mountain—black and dense—flying toward them like a moving cloud.
Tourists: !!!
Officers: !!!
Scenic staff: !!!
Every face was stamped with the same word: shocked.
And it wasn’t over.
Right after the birds appeared, a distant, lingering deer call rang out—then drew closer and closer.
[Human, we’re here too!]
At the same time, deep in the mountains, the “mountain guardian” heard the commotion. Its furry ears twitched—then it lifted its head and roared.
The birds and deer were already astonishing enough. But once the tiger roar hit, everything went silent for a beat—then the crowd exploded.
“T-that… what was that? A tiger?”
“In Taibai Mountain, that has to be an Amur tiger, right?”
“Wait—so after his whistle, even a tiger roar showed up?!”
“T-this… coincidence?”
[Need help?]
Lin Jiangye thought for a moment, then whistled again.
This one wasn’t as sharp and bright, but longer—like he was answering the tiger’s roar.
Immediately, birds packed the surrounding trees—every species you could imagine. There were even mid-to-small raptors like kestrels mixed in.
Then the deer king led his herd down as well, and several sables came with them.
With animals appearing one after another, nearby tourists unconsciously slowed their breathing, terrified that one loud inhale would startle the “snow spirits” away.
They stared at Lin Jiangye in disbelief. No one understood how he could call down an entire mountain like this.
“Wait—birds and deer are here… so where’s the tiger?”
Someone finally remembered that last roar. If the others had come, then surely the tiger…
The moment the words fell—every bird shot up into the air and moved to the side trees. The deer herd also stirred, until the deer king called once and suppressed the turbulence. Like the birds, they spread out on both sides, clearing a path down the middle.
Under everyone’s breath-held gaze, an Amur tiger slowly walked down from above.
Even the officers held their breath.
An Amur tiger… and now even an Amur tiger was “responding” to Mr. Lin?
The chief stared at this with a blank face. Ever since he personally watched that tiger leave Lin Jiangye’s room, he’d known these two had “connected” at some point—who knew when.
Even though “hooked up” isn’t a very nice phrase, he honestly couldn’t think of a better one.
The Amur tiger walked straight up to Lin Jiangye, sat down, and lifted its head to look at him.
[What happened?]
Lin Jiangye was grinning so hard his eyes curved into crescent moons. He’d expected the little birds to show up, and he’d expected the deer herd to help—but he never expected even the mountain guardian to come!
A surprise gift, truly!
He crouched down and relayed the police station’s request to all the little ones. Hearing that yet again some foolish humans were courting death, the birds immediately started chattering away without even caring that a fierce predator was right there.
[Why do humans keep doing stuff like this?]
[If they want to die, why should anyone save them?]
[Do disobedient humans get locked up?]
The birds were disgusted with those humans and felt they shouldn’t be rescued at all.
Lin Jiangye wanted to nod in agreement so badly, but this wasn’t the time. He didn’t bother explaining further—he went straight to the reward.
“If you directly find them, the police station will cover a month of food. Sound good?”
He turned to the station chief. The chief flashed him an OK sign.
“Also, everyone who helps today can come to my little courtyard and eat. I’ll prepare lots and lots of food.”
The moment Lin Jiangye finished, every little one lit up with excitement.
Help out, get fed once. Find the people, and that’s a whole month with no worries about food!
Lin Jiangye glanced at the officers and the scenic-area staff. Both sides said it was fine.
They’d done feeding before—especially in this freezing weather. If they didn’t occasionally put out food, a lot of small mountain animals simply wouldn’t make it through winter.
“And if you find them,” Lin Jiangye said with a smiling squint to the mountain guardian, “I’ll grant you one request. How about that?”
He even reached out and rubbed the tiger’s ear.
The guardian tilted its head slightly, as if it wasn’t fully used to that kind of contact, but it didn’t completely dodge away either—so in the end, Lin Jiangye still got to pull it into his arms and knead its ears.
And that behavior once again stunned everyone into silence.
The scenic-area manager felt dizzy, like he needed to slap himself twice just to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.
“All right. Go,” Lin Jiangye waved. In an instant, the dense bird flock streamed back into the forest and vanished.
The deer king nodded to him, then led the herd off into the mountains as well. Only the Amur tiger in Lin Jiangye’s arms still hadn’t moved.
“Aren’t you going?” Lin Jiangye asked curiously.
The guardian licked its paw, then bumped Lin Jiangye once with its fluffy head before turning and disappearing into the snow.
Once all the little ones had left, the quiet crowd erupted into shrieks.
“Oh my god—an Amur tiger! An Amur tiger! It even rubs against people, wuwuwu, I want to be rubbed too QAQ!”
“What a gorgeous tiger… gorgeous sika deer… gorgeous white deer… hehehe! We totally came at the right time!”
“Who is that guy? How can he call over so many wild animals? Why does he look kind of familiar?”
“Wait—Isn’t that Lin Jiangye, the Special Consultant from Yue City?”
When his name got shouted, Lin Jiangye reflexively turned his head—confirming it on the spot.
“It really is you, Consultant Lin! Aaaah! I can’t believe I’d run into you at Taibai Mountain! Too bad I didn’t bring my baby—otherwise I’d beg you to translate too!”
To pet owners, Lin Jiangye was already something like a miracle.
But after today, he wasn’t just a miracle for pet owners anymore. Being able to summon this many wild animals—Lin Jiangye was basically an animal god.
The chief let out a slow breath. After watching Lin Jiangye interact with the mountain guardian with his own eyes, he completely believed they really had “hooked up.”
If tiger tongues didn’t have barbs, the chief honestly suspected the guardian would lick Lin Jiangye’s face like a giant cat.
No—scratch that. Remove the “suspected.” It didn’t lick him, but rubbing was already classic big-cat behavior.
His feelings were complicated. All along, they’d treated the guardian as something sacred and mysterious—yet here it was, being so close to Lin Jiangye!
Wuwuwu, so jealous! They wanted to be rubbed by the guardian too!
After watching the animals disappear into the forest, Lin Jiangye started discussing ingredient purchases with the chief.
The food they fed the little ones was always raw, natural ingredients—no boiling, no seasoning—so the animals’ bodies wouldn’t be burdened.
“For birds, prepare some meat too. Kestrels showed up, and magpies eat meat as well. As for the guardian, I’ve still got plenty of chickens and ducks in my courtyard—no need to worry about not having enough.”
To be honest, Lin Jiangye suspected the guardian didn’t even need feeding. It had eaten a lot yesterday, so it probably wasn’t hungry.
But whether it ate or not, he still needed to prepare something properly.
“The animals have gone up the mountain. You all go too—I’ll stay here and wait.” He worried that if he left and a bird came back to report, it wouldn’t be able to find him.
The chief nodded and led his people up the mountain, leaving only the scenic-area manager with Lin Jiangye.
The manager’s mind was blank—clearly the earlier scene had completely overloaded him.
As the person in charge of the scenic area, he considered himself familiar with the mountain’s wildlife, especially first-class protected animals like Amur tigers.
They were introverted, disliked humans and noisy places. “Two tigers can’t share one mountain,” the old saying went—normally they didn’t step into another tiger’s territory.
And the most famous tiger on this mountain was the guardian.
Call it guardian, miracle, whatever—this female Amur tiger’s attitude toward humans was generally “neutral”: not close, not affectionate, not openly hostile.
Overall: Don’t touch me.
“You…” The manager pressed a hand to his chest. Why did he feel like he was choking up?
Lin Jiangye found a small shop, sat down, and even had the leisure to buy himself a grilled sausage to nibble slowly.
Seeing him this relaxed—so different from how humans usually panicked and ran all over the mountain searching—made the manager feel an odd wave of bitterness.
What kind of life had they been living all these years?!
Could they keep this Mr. Lin here? With him around, everything would be so much easier!
Meanwhile, Lin Jiangye was messaging Jiang Xin to say he’d be staying in Taibai Mountain a while longer.
A question mark popped up immediately.
Then came: “So you don’t want your babies anymore?”
That message got retracted instantly and replaced with: “What baby did you run into this time?”
Jiang Xin knew Lin Jiangye well. He’d been away from Yue City for nearly ten days—unless there was an emergency, the only thing that could keep him there would be running into some rare animal.
Lin Jiangye chuckled, then sent a photo: himself, the raven, Shang Fuyan, and the Amur tiger snuggled together.
“We even slept together, and Bixi isn’t scared of the tiger anymore.” Truly his baby—bold, as expected!
A string of exclamation points exploded back, followed by a voice message. When Lin Jiangye tapped it, Jiang Xin’s voice came through, suppressed but vibrating with excitement:
“Next time please, please, PLEASE bring me with you—thank you thank you thank you!”
It wasn’t that Jiang Xin was obsessed with animals in general, but an Amur tiger was different. Seeing a tiger turn into a big obedient cat—he was dying to know what Lin Jiangye had done.
Lin Jiangye smiled, then put the grin away and said he’d definitely return in a few days.
“I won’t stay here for a whole month.” If he did, Mastiff would absolutely throw a fit.
If nothing else happened, he’d probably stay five more days, then say goodbye to the guardian.
Just thinking about leaving made a powerful ache bloom in Lin Jiangye’s chest.
If… if they could stay together forever, that would be perfect.
Wait.
Lin Jiangye suddenly remembered what Shang Fuyan had once mentioned—building a wildlife park. Back then Lin Jiangye said he’d think about it, then nothing came of it.
He had considered it, but after looking into domestic wildlife parks, he felt investing in one didn’t seem reliable.
Of course, if the only purpose was to let him see more animals, then it fit his needs perfectly.
He hadn’t thought he’d rush into it—but now things were different. If he wanted to stay with the guardian long-term, either he moved to Taibai Mountain, or he brought the guardian back to Yue City.
Lin Jiangye worried about the guardian’s health. It wasn’t young anymore.
Amur tigers typically didn’t live past twenty, and wild ones lived even shorter—usually ten to fifteen years.
Lin Jiangye thought: maybe he could use “retirement care” as a reason to bring the guardian to Yue City.
But if he did that, he’d need to create an environment suitable for an Amur tiger. The wildlife park plan really did need to be put on the schedule.
And the deer king and the little white deer—when they got old, would they be willing to live in a park too?
He submitted his idea to the local forestry bureau contact. The person was clearly stunned; it took a long time before they replied:
“According to regulations, it’s possible—but the environment audit will be extremely strict.”
Okay. Got it. Once he got back, he’d start arranging the park.
With the bird flocks helping, news came in within two hours.
A kestrel flew over, with a magpie right behind it—both landed in front of Lin Jiangye almost at the same time.
But it wasn’t just them.
The mountain guardian suddenly shot out of the snow, scaring the people nearby and the two little birds half to death.
The little white deer dashed in from another side, but the moment it saw the tiger it slammed on the brakes—too hard—and crashed straight into the scenic-area manager.
The manager stood there dumbly, holding the albino sika deer, until it nudged him with its head. Only then did he let go, beaming.
Oh wow, Taibai’s sika deer really do feel amazing… =w=
[We found them.]
As soon as the guardian said that, the kestrel, magpie, and white deer all flashed expressions of frustration.
Damn it! The tiger stole the “first report” again!
Their one-month food reward, QAQ…
Lin Jiangye smiled and hugged the guardian, rubbing his cheek against it. Under the greedy, nearly-drooling stares of the crowd, he followed the tiger up the mountain.
[That request—we’ll talk about it before you leave.]
Lin Jiangye froze, puzzled, but the guardian didn’t elaborate and silently led the way.
After a while, it brought him to a cliff edge. He looked down and saw a protruding platform below, where five or six people were curled up.
Lin Jiangye: “……”
He honestly wanted to know how they’d ended up there. Did they all fall together? Like a group discount?
They were stuck—neither up nor down. Without gear, they really couldn’t get out.
When they spotted Lin Jiangye, the previously lifeless group instantly perked up and started yelling at him:
“Why are you so late?! Do you know how long we’ve been trapped? We’re about to freeze to death!”
Others just wailed for him to get them up, with not a speck of guilt or shame—only righteous indignation.
Lin Jiangye laughed in anger. He didn’t even bother calling the chief yet; he simply stood at the cliff and stared down at them.
When they finally realized something was off and shut their mouths, he spoke:
“Why’d you stop? You’ve got plenty of energy. Who needs rescuing? If you’re so capable, climb up with your bare hands.”
They clearly hadn’t expected him to be this ruthless. One by one they stared at him, wide-eyed.
After a long moment, seeing he truly wasn’t moving to help, they panicked.
“You… you can’t do this! There are six of us down here!”
“Why can’t I?” Lin Jiangye smiled nastily. “You’re not anybody to me. I can wait until you freeze to death, then call the police to collect bodies.”
His white teeth flashed. With his gentle-looking face, backlit by the sky, the smile was chilling enough to make spines go cold.
The trapped group was horrified. The “rescuer” they’d finally waited for was a psycho!
They were truly desperate now. Their eyes went red from dryness and cold, their tone dropping from arrogant commands to pleading humility.
“Just get someone to save us! We’ll pay you a huge reward!”
Unfortunately, “huge reward” meant nothing to a psycho.
“I don’t need money.” The smile deepened, making him look even more terrifying.
They fell into total despair. If their faces hadn’t been nearly frozen stiff, they would’ve already burst into tears.
But Lin Jiangye wasn’t actually that inhuman.
While he was scolding them, he’d already sent the chief a location pin.
When the chief and the others arrived and looked down, they saw six people huddled together like plucked quails, shivering on a tiny platform in the wind.
It looked… kind of pitiful.
“What happened here?” the chief asked, panting. He glanced at the big cat beside Lin Jiangye and didn’t dare get too close.
But the guardian seemed to sense their fear and quietly stood up, moving to lie down somewhere else.
Lin Jiangye pointed down. “They’re all here. You can start rescue operations.”
He’d only helped find them. What came next wasn’t his responsibility.
The chief understood. Besides, Lin Jiangye wasn’t even officially under them—rescuing wasn’t his duty.
The fact he’d helped locate them was already generous.
As soon as other people appeared—especially when they saw police badges—the hikers on the platform cried with joy. They were finally saved!
Professional rescuers began fixing ropes at the cliff edge. This cliff was hard to access; they had to send rescuers down, then haul people up one at a time.
The people below stayed quiet now. Cold, hungry, and freshly traumatized by Lin Jiangye’s “psycho” act, they were too drained to argue.
So when the rescuers assigned an order, no one protested.
When the first person was pulled up, he hadn’t even caught his breath before he grabbed the chief’s hand and pointed at Lin Jiangye.
“Officer! I want to report him—”
But the complaint died mid-sentence.
Because he saw the Amur tiger glaring nearby, the deer king towering like a wall, and the scattered raptors on the ground and branches.
The rest of his words got swallowed whole.
Report what? Was he trying to die? Would those animals charge him if he opened his mouth?
Just being able to stand beside an Amur tiger already proved this human was not someone to mess with!
The others down below had heard his first half clearly, but didn’t know why he didn’t finish.
“Could it be… once he got up, the police shut him up?”
They exchanged looks, rage boiling. If this guy really had connections with the police and was being protected, they’d post everything online and get the police station cyberbullied!
But they noticed something strange: every person hauled up started to speak, then stopped abruptly. After that, no sound came at all.
“They’re covering it up—literally gagging people! Disgusting!”
But when the last person finally got pulled up and saw the Amur tiger crouched nearby, he instantly understood the truth.
No gagging. No police doing anything.
His companions had simply been terrified into shutting up by the tiger.
On the way down the mountain, they couldn’t resist asking the rescuers who the young man was.
What if he was also police—
“Oh, you mean Consultant Lin? He’s a special consultant from Yue City on vacation. Not under our jurisdiction. He just helped out for humanitarian reasons. You should thank him properly—if he hadn’t helped, who knows how long you’d have been stuck there. Consultant Lin really is a good person. No wonder the mountain guardian likes him!”
The rescuers clearly liked Lin Jiangye too.
Not only did the bird flock save them a ton of work—these hikers’ behavior, the moment they were rescued, made it obvious they weren’t saints.
They also weren’t idiots. They could tell Lin Jiangye had somehow pressed down their tempers and made the whole process smoother.
Heh. Convenient, truly convenient.
The rescued group was taken to the hospital. Thankfully, they’d only been trapped half a day—just cold and hungry, no injuries.
But as they were about to leave, police took them away.
Under the protected-area regulations, entering an undeveloped restricted zone without permission could mean fines, warnings, or even detention depending on severity.
“Good thing you didn’t get the chance to do anything to first-class protected wildlife. Otherwise it wouldn’t just be a fine. Oh, and go settle the rescue fees later.”
That last sentence stunned them.
They hadn’t expected rescue to be not free.
“The scenic area has warned repeatedly not to enter undeveloped zones. It was also stated long ago that if you get trapped in a restricted area and need rescue, the cost is self-paid. Only getting trapped in the developed scenic area is free.”
The officer finished and turned away, rolling his eyes.
Free rescue? Dream on.
Meanwhile, Lin Jiangye drove the mountain guardian back to his courtyard.
In the rearview mirror, seeing the tiger sprawled in the back, he once again felt grateful for the absurdly expensive armored vehicle he’d customized.
If it were a normal SUV, where would he even put an Amur tiger?
The police station had prepared food early, and now it was piled in his courtyard.
Lin Jiangye set out long feeding troughs, filled them, then placed basins of hot water near the house so the temperature wouldn’t drop too quickly.
“Do you want meat?” Lin Jiangye casually patted the guardian’s belly, totally ignoring the fact that this was a giant tiger.
It was round—so it probably didn’t need feeding right now.
Only after Lin Jiangye finished did the guardian seem to react. It gave him a helpless look, as if staring at a troublesome child.
But what met that helpless gaze was a pair of clear, innocent eyes.
The guardian laughed—laughed in exasperation. It opened its jaws and gently closed them around Lin Jiangye’s wrist, acting like it was about to bite his hand clean off.
But in Lin Jiangye’s eyes, the guardian was obviously just playing—otherwise why would it carefully retract its tongue?
“Hehe!” Lin Jiangye giggled foolishly, pulled his hand back, then threw himself onto the tiger and hugged the warm, big cat like his life depended on it.
He wasn’t letting go.
And Bixi, of course, copied him as well—spreading its wings and landing on the Amur tiger’s huge head, like it had plopped a little black hat on the big cat.
Lin Jiangye was so delighted he hugged the tiger’s head and kissed it again and again, making the mountain guardian look at him with even more helplessness.
Fine. He was still just a kid anyway.
“I promised you one request—are you really not going to say it now?” Lin Jiangye couldn’t understand it. Why insist on waiting until right before he left?
But the guardian still said nothing, only meeting his gaze quietly with those gentle eyes.
Lin Jiangye suddenly sniffed, fell silent, and just held the guardian as he watched the little ones in the courtyard chow down noisily.
That faint big-cat scent wrapped around him without a sound—like protection, and like a lingering keepsake.
