Volume One, Chapter Seventeen: Striking Gold on the Mountain

Unaware of the events unfolding at the foot of the mountain, Li Chen continued along the mountain path deeper into the wilderness. After about an hour’s trek, he had ventured well into the remote forest.

Yet today’s haul was disappointingly sparse. Aside from shooting a dozen or so large birds perched in the treetops, he had caught nothing else—not even a single rabbit. This puzzled him greatly. The once abundant wildlife seemed to have vanished overnight.

Pressing further into the mountains, he managed to hunt a small brood of wild chickens—two large and three small—on a grassy slope, but beyond that, his efforts yielded no rewards. As dusk approached, despite his reluctance, he resolved to return. His concern for the safety of his young maid-wife, alone at home at night, weighed heavily on him.

Just as he turned to leave, a deep, guttural roar echoed from afar—the unmistakable roar of a tiger. Yet the sound was brief, cut off after half a cry as if something had strangled the beast’s throat. Startled, understanding dawned on him. No wonder the mountain’s game had sharply declined—a large predator had arrived.

Though armed with his powerful crossbow, Li Chen was determined to avoid a direct confrontation with this golden tiger. Tigers, embodiments of pure yang energy, possessed immense muscle, boundless strength, and thick resilience; a single misstep could mean death in its jaws. Hastily, he began to descend the mountain, carrying his prey.

Only a few steps later, another short, sharp tiger roar sounded nearby, not far off it seemed. Alongside it came piercing shrieks resembling a cat’s cries.

“A leopard?” Li Chen paused, narrowing his eyes toward the source of the noise. It was no more than two or three hundred paces away, accompanied by the sounds of fierce combat and snarling.

After a moment’s thought, he decided to take the risk and investigate. If indeed two beasts were fighting, it might be an opportunity to seize a lucky catch.

Nocking an arrow onto his crossbow, he crouched low and swiftly stealthily approached the clearing through the dense forest. Soon the clamorous sounds of the struggle grew distinctly louder.

Pushing aside branches, he cautiously peered out and finally discerned the scene. In a clearing ahead, a life-or-death battle between two formidable beasts was reaching its climax. A large, pure black leopard clamped tightly onto the throat of a golden tiger. The tiger kicked its legs a few times before convulsing violently and finally going still.

The leopard maintained its grip, nostrils flaring sharply as it panted. Tigers rarely lose to leopards—this was a rare spectacle indeed. By all rights, such an outcome should never occur, yet here it was.

A surge of excitement welled up inside Li Chen as he slowly raised his crossbow. If fate was so generous, he could not let this opportunity slip by.

Suddenly, the leopard seemed to sense danger. It lifted its head, its amber eyes flashing with ferocity. Releasing its grip, it emitted a sharp, cat-like cry and with a powerful thrust of its hind legs, leapt nearly two meters high and seven or eight meters forward. Within two bounds, it had closed to within thirty meters of Li Chen.

On the third leap, the black beast was airborne, less than five meters away. Its cold, green eyes shimmered with ruthless intent.

Li Chen’s gaze hardened like steel, fearless. Looking directly into the leopard’s eyes, a fierce radiance surged from his own, a chilling aura so intense it pierced the leopard’s soul.

The mental intimidation worked again.

The leopard’s body stiffened sharply, caught in a brief moment of hesitation.

“Crack!” The crossbow’s string twanged loudly as the feathered arrow flew like a streak of light.

Piercing the leopard’s throat, blood erupted from its neck and it crashed to the ground, writhing in agony.

Li Chen stepped forward swiftly and loosed a second arrow, driving it into the leopard’s forehead. The beast finally breathed its last.

“This pressure… it works on animals too,” Li Chen murmured in satisfaction.

Exhaling slowly, he held his crossbow carefully as he approached the fallen tiger. The creature lay lifeless, no need for further arrows.

A closer look revealed the tiger was gaunt and riddled with old wounds, some festering and rotten. Its fur was patchy and ragged—what once was a magnificent coat now devalued. Apparently, it had been injured by some large beast earlier, severely weakening it and costing it the fight against the leopard.

Sheathing his crossbow, Li Chen felt a thrill of triumph. Though he hadn’t taken down any other large game, this leopard alone was a tremendous catch—worth at least fifty or sixty taels of silver. The tiger, though worthless now, might still fetch some price.

Fortune truly favored him.

Yet a dilemma gnawed at him. The tiger, though thin, weighed over two hundred jin, and the leopard at least one hundred and fifty. Nearly four hundred jin combined—how could he carry all that?

As he pondered, a sudden series of quacking sounds emerged from a nearby thicket. Assuming it was some wild creature, he readied his bow and moved closer.

To his astonishment, he discovered a newborn tiger cub, its eyes still closed, crawling and emitting duck-like cries.

Realization struck: the dead tiger was a mother, recently given birth and terribly weak, burdened with old wounds and near death. The leopard, once driven off by her, had now seized the chance—whether for revenge or to claim territory—and killed her.

Under ordinary circumstances, no leopard could best a tiger. But now, fate had granted Li Chen a remarkable gift.

Moved by the sight of the tiny cub, he considered raising it as a companion and guardian. The thought pleased him.

Gently scooping up the small male cub—strong and healthy despite its youth—he wiped away the grime and placed it in a cloth bag, securing it close to his chest.

Next, he fashioned a makeshift stretcher and began dragging the great leopard down the mountain.

He planned not to sell the leopard, but to skin it for its meat and hide. Though its pelt could command a high price, parading such a rare beast around the town would attract unwanted attention and trouble.

Better to keep a low profile.

As for the mother tiger’s carcass, its rotted hide was worthless; no one would want it. He decided to leave it to the forest—to dust, to earth, born of nature, returned to nature.

With his prize in tow, Li Chen returned to the village.

Upon arrival, he made no attempt to hide. Having already been seen hunting wild boar earlier that morning, carrying back a leopard was hardly surprising. In a small village, secrets were hard to keep, and as long as the tale wasn’t exaggerated, outsiders were unlikely to believe it anyway.

Evening had fallen, and the village was abuzz with activity. Every household had lit lamps, filling the air with the rich aroma of cooking meat—a stark contrast to the usual bitter scent of wild vegetables. The atmosphere was festive and joyful.

Li Chen inhaled the enticing smells, his hunger stirred.

Yet as he neared his home, he spotted a crowd gathered outside. Someone knelt on the ground, while voices shouted in accusation and scolding.

What awaited him there, he could not yet guess.