Chapter 007: Killing the Tiger
Since that peculiar young man with white hair ascended the mountain, nearly three months have passed. The people at the foot of the mountain have almost forgotten the strange individual they encountered three months ago. Once again, it is the fifteenth day of the month, a day for the market, and the old village head is, as usual, wandering around the marketplace. Just as he was about to finish his rounds and head home for a couple of drinks, a commotion behind him caught his attention.
The tiger truly lives up to its title as the king of beasts; even with its neck broken, it did not die on the spot. After letting out a mournful cry, it released Wu Mian and ran off aimlessly. Unfortunately, this tiger could see nothing but the sky, and after running a short distance, it crashed headfirst into a large tree. After falling to the ground, it could no longer rise, lying there and convulsing incessantly.
Compared to an entire tiger skin, fifty pounds of beef is truly insignificant. The old tavern keeper gritted his teeth and agreed.
While speaking, he himself went behind the counter. He brought out a jar of wine and led Wu Mian to a table, first pouring a bowl of somewhat murky wine for Wu Mian, and then pouring a bowl for himself. A young attendant brought over several plates of sliced snacks to accompany the wine. At this time, the local area could not provide any vegetables, only various pickled dishes prepared before winter. Meanwhile, the back kitchen had already started making sounds, and soon a fragrant aroma wafted out. At this time, the local area could not provide any vegetables, only various pickled dishes prepared before winter. Meanwhile, the back kitchen had already started making sounds, and soon a fragrant aroma wafted out.
Just as the old pavilion chief was lost in thought, the young man with white hair also noticed him. He then walked over a few steps, draping the entire tiger skin that was wrapped around him over the old pavilion chief's shoulders, and said: "Why not exchange it for a hearty meal?"
The old steward stared blankly at Wu Mian and said, somewhat at a loss: "This is one hundred taels of gold, how can I make change for it?"
Wu Mian stood up from the ground, and the wound that had been torn by the tiger was healing at a speed visible to the naked eye. He watched the tiger from a distance, waiting until it had completely breathed its last before walking over to drag the dead tiger to the cave entrance. Without any suitable tools at hand, Wu Mian could only tear off the tiger's skin with his bare hands, and using just his hands, he divided the tiger meat into several portions.
The old tavern keeper had just picked up a piece of beef, and before he could even bring it to his mouth, he heard Wu Mian's words. His brow furrowed immediately, and the anger he had just suppressed flared up again. He looked at Wu Mian and said: "Young man, we agreed to treat you to a meal, and I accepted however much you wanted to eat, but we never said you could take it away..."
Was this big bug killed by you, young man? Although there was no second person in sight, the old pavilion chief uttered a meaningless remark
The old pavilion chief was stunned for a moment before he understood Wu Mian's words. He rubbed his eyes to confirm that he was not dreaming. Coupled with the untidy state of the tiger skin, a strong smell of blood surged straight to the old pavilion chief's forehead, further confirming that an opportunity had come knocking at his door
The old pavilion chief swallowed and widened his eyes as he looked at Wu Mian, saying: "Well... fifty jin, can you eat that much?"
Wu Mian picked up a bamboo slip, opened it, and upon just one glance, his gaze became entrapped within the slip. The slip contained records of several methods of spellcasting, which were unheard of not only by Wu Mian but even by the esteemed head of the Taoist practitioners. However, even if the head had witnessed it with his own eyes, he would not possess the strength to execute the spells inscribed on the bamboo slip.
The tiger! Wu Mian was taken aback, not expecting to encounter the great beast that the old pavilion chief had mentioned in such a large mountain. In the midst of his busy schedule, he had no time to apply the newly learned techniques, so he could only retract his neck and cover his head, crossing his hands to protect his vital points. Just as he assumed this posture, the tiger was already upon him, and the immense force knocked Wu Mian down. Subsequently, it opened its gaping maw and lunged at Wu Mian's neck.
Originally, according to Wu Mian's plan, he intended to fully master the techniques recorded on the bamboo slips before descending the mountain. However, by the morning of the tenth day, the provisions he had prepared at the foot of the mountain were completely consumed. Although Wu Mian could endure with his current physical condition, he had never practiced the art of fasting. After another day and a half, feeling increasingly anxious from hunger, he began to lose focus while reciting the bamboo slips. In desperation, Wu Mian had no choice but to return the bamboo slips to their original place, take a piece of gold cake, and exit the cave, planning to return to the foot of the mountain first to procure more food before coming back to study the techniques on the bamboo slips again.
From beginning to end, it was the old tavern keeper speaking by himself, while Wu Mian simply watched him, not intending to say a word. Finally, when the old tavern keeper truly had nothing left to say, he suddenly slammed the table, looked at Wu Mian, and shouted: "Is the pancake not ready yet?"
Fortunately, the area is abundant with timber. Wu Mian dragged back a recently dead dry tree from nearby. After splitting it into firewood, he took some tinder to ignite it. For an entire afternoon, he did nothing else but roast several hundred pounds of tiger meat until it was dried and preserved. With this tiger meat, Wu Mian was able to survive in the cave for more than two additional months.
The old tavern keeper's home housed the only restaurant within a radius of several dozen miles. Although the rural eatery could not offer anything particularly exquisite, it was already a remarkable business in the area. After bringing Wu Mian to his restaurant, the old tavern keeper shouted towards the counter: "Guests have arrived, everyone get busy, make some flatbreads and stir-fried eggs! First, slice some pickles; I will have a couple of liang with the young man."
Beneath the characters written by Xu Fu, there is a series of over twenty stone caves, each about the size of a fist. These stone caves are all naturally formed, showing no signs of manual craftsmanship. Inside each stone cave, there is a scroll of bamboo slips.
After the old pavilion master called out, it wasn't long before the mixed grain pancakes and a large plate of sliced wild beef were brought out from the back kitchen, which served to alleviate the old pavilion master's predicament. What was rare was that a plate of scrambled eggs was also served. The young waiter explained, "First, we cut five jin of beef for the gentlemen to enjoy with their drinks, and the remaining beef is kept warm in its original broth on the stove. Once you finish, the chef will slice more, so it doesn't cool down and congeal."
Although the words of the old man with white hair were somewhat choking, the old steward could only swallow his pride for the sake of the tiger skin. The old steward chuckled awkwardly and said, "Then you, young man, are indeed a hero who hunts tigers. Don't mention just one meal; I can take care of your meals for an entire month without any problem. Today happens to be the fifteenth, and the wild buffalo that the hunters caught yesterday evening has just been put into the soup pot."
The old pavilion master did not let Wu Mian speak first; instead, he picked up a piece of pickled radish with his chopsticks and began to crunch on it. After taking a sip of wine, he said to Wu Mian: "Young man, there is nothing special here, just some country food. If you can eat it, have a few bites; if not, just sit for a while. The beef and flatbreads will be served shortly."
Observing that Wu Mian showed little interest in pickled vegetables and turbid wine, the old innkeeper urged the kitchen staff and then began to engage Wu Mian in conversation: "I say, young man, you don't seem like someone from our Liaodong region. What have you been doing in Yanshan for three months? Did you personally kill that tiger? I mean no offense, just asking a question, as the officials from the magistrate's office have inquired, and I need to have some answers ready. You know, being an innkeeper these days is not an easy job..."
He had not finished speaking when Wu Mian suddenly interjected: "Fifty jin!"
As Wu Mian just stepped out of the cave, a strong, unique odor of wild beasts rushed towards him. He heard a low growl by his ear, and then, in the blink of an eye, a massive figure lunged directly at him.
No need. Wu Mian finally spoke, saying: "Wrap up the things on the table along with the remaining beef. I will take them with me."
Wu Mian said in his unique tone: "It's not me—" Before the old steward's surprised expression could fully manifest, this white-haired young man immediately followed up with, "Is it still you?"
Wu Mian glanced at him and said with a half-smile, "Who said you needed to find it?" Upon hearing Wu Mian's words, the old pavilion chief excitedly stood up from his chair, not expecting Wu Mian to continue, "On the cabinet, continue to bloom in the future, remember this face of mine..."
Wu Mian understood that although he had become immortal, if his head were bitten off, he would most likely not survive. In a moment of panic, he reached out and grasped the tiger's neck, pulling it upward with force. In his ears, he heard a strange cracking sound, and to his astonishment, he had directly broken the tiger's head, with the back of the tiger's skull oddly pressed against its back
Before he could finish his words, the old man with white hair took out two bright yellow round cakes and threw them into the pickled vegetable dish. With a loud crash, the dish shattered. Then, Wu Mian threw out another gold cake and said: "I'll add two more for you"
After looking for a while, Wu Mian opened several other bamboo slips. None of them contained anything but the insights of the practitioners of the art, yet not a single slip recorded any methods related to personal cultivation. This could be considered as Xu Fu's contingency plan; if someone were to accidentally intrude, they would at most only take away the gold from the cave and would not be interested in these incomprehensible techniques.
A young man with white hair, draped in a tiger skin, was walking down the mountain path. Although his clothes were so dirty that their original color could not be discerned, the old village chief recognized him at a glance due to his snow-white hair. He was the eccentric person who had ascended the mountain from here three months ago
Gold! The old tavern keeper's eyes widened, and his lips began to tremble involuntarily. He picked up a gold ingot and took a bite, nearly breaking his teeth. However, before he could laugh out loud, he heard Wu Mian say: "This is for buying your beef and pancakes."
For Wu Mian, the content of these bamboo slips was still somewhat profound. After an entire night, he only managed to understand a few superficial techniques from the first volume of the bamboo slips. Ten days later, Wu Mian had learned about half of the techniques in that volume, but when it came to achieving a comprehensive understanding, he was still far from it
Saying this, he took the tiger skin off himself and addressed a half-grown boy behind him, saying: "You little rascal, go tell Old Liu at the soup pot to send us ten pounds of the finest bison meat to our shop"