Chapter 51: Grilled Fish

A few birds soared across the sky, and Chen Ji instinctively looked up, lost in thought. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice until a fuzzy head nudged his arm.

White Tiger glanced at him, then shifted his gaze back to the plump mandarin fish, whose fate was still uncertain. He nudged Chen Ji again with his head.

Chen Ji blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

White Tiger pressed a paw down on the mandarin fish, and realization dawned on Chen Ji. “Oh! Grandpa White Tiger means you want me to kill the fish?”

White Tiger gave a slight nod, suddenly taking on an air of seriousness. Chen Ji eyed him for a moment before breaking into a beaming smile. “Alright… then I’ll go find some lemongrass?”

Lemongrass thrived near water, so as long as there was a watery spot nearby, a careful search would turn some up. If it grew in thicker patches, Chen Ji might have even submitted it as a medicinal herb quest.

The area felt safe enough, and White Tiger didn’t object. Chen Ji immediately got to his feet and headed out. The rocks around Small Stone Pool were barren, without a single blade of grass, so he moved toward a cluster of greenery hugging the nearby stones.

Lemongrass was tricky to spot amid the wild grasses. Chen Ji snapped off two stalks and sniffed them—ordinary weeds. After rummaging for five or six minutes, he gave up and decided to check downstream.

He glanced back and saw White Tiger still pinning the fish in place, showing no sign of moving. Chen Ji didn’t mind. If that wasn’t what Grandpa White Tiger intended, he could always kill it when he returned. It was just one fish, nothing troublesome.

After calling out a quick goodbye to Grandpa White Tiger, Chen Ji nimbly leaped down from the one-and-a-half-meter rock. The water flowed more gently below, with lush vegetation lining both banks. Soon, he spotted a thriving cluster that had to be lemongrass and hurried toward it.

What Chen Ji didn’t know was that once he jumped down, White Tiger gestured at the mandarin fish with his paw. His claws were too large and sharp for the task… and if he accidentally ruptured the bitter gall bladder, Chen Ji would probably be quite upset.

White Tiger hesitated for a moment. His tiger form gradually faded away, transforming into a stern-faced young man.

The youth was strikingly handsome, but a chill remoteness lingered in his features. His skin was pallid, devoid of any rosy hue, which only heightened his unapproachable aura.

He retrieved Chen Ji’s sickle from the bamboo basket. His long, slender fingers gripped the cold iron, and with a gentle slice and scoop, a line of blood arced from the fish’s belly. The scarlet innards were deftly removed. He paused, then excised the gills and the dorsal spines, completing the preparation.

The youth submerged the fish in the water, where a faint crimson bloom spread. The bloodstains on his pale fingers washed away swiftly. At some point, pairs of dark eyes had appeared beneath the surface. He glanced at them once, about to look away, when a sudden thought made him scan the stone pool.

One fish… might not be enough.

He liked Chen Ji very much, so if there was only one, he would take just a little and leave the rest for him.

The youth pursed his pale lips. His hand plunged into the water and snatched one of the creatures. It burst from the surface—terrifying only in the abyss’s depths. Out of water, it was merely a chubby mandarin fish.

This kind had plenty of meat and few bones, with a fresh, delicious flavor… He would probably like it, wouldn’t he?

…One more?

From the woods, Chen Ji watched the youth on the shore transform back into White Tiger. Only then did he tuck away the enigmatic smile on his lips and step out from the trees. Standing below the rock, he called up, “Grandpa White Tiger—”

White Tiger soon appeared atop the rock. His ringed tiger tail, thicker than Chen Ji’s wrist, dangled down. Chen Ji grabbed the tip and gave it a rub. White Tiger yanked it back in surprise, but Chen Ji just looked up at him nonchalantly. “Grandpa White Tiger, won’t doing that ruin your tail?”

A rumbling purr vibrated in White Tiger’s throat. His tail dangled down again, and Chen Ji stretched out his arms, letting it coil around them. With some concern, he said, “Grandpa White Tiger, could you wrap a bit more? I’m worried my arm might snap.”

White Tiger paused, then flicked his tail upward sharply. Chen Ji was hoisted up. He spread his arms wide on landing and hugged White Tiger’s neck, rubbing his face against it several times. “So steady… Thanks, Grandpa White Tiger.”

The fur, freshly washed yesterday, carried the scent of body wash and felt as silky as satin. Chen Ji buried his whole face in it and took a deep breath.

White Tiger let him cling, though his body stiffened slightly.

After a couple of rubs, Chen Ji released him and clambered to his feet as if it were the most natural thing. White Tiger followed him back. Chen Ji hadn’t gone far when he spotted five neatly arranged mandarin fish on the ground, each one cleaned impeccably. Delight lit up his face as he rubbed White Tiger’s ears and hurried over. “Grandpa White Tiger, you cleaned them so perfectly!”

He had assumed he’d have to do it himself when he returned.

White Tiger turned his face away slightly, avoiding Chen Ji’s gaze. Unfazed, Chen Ji rinsed the lemongrass in the water, stuffed some into the fish bellies, used tougher stalks to stitch them shut, then rummaged in the bamboo basket for more.

“I only brought salt… Should’ve grabbed some oil.” Chen Ji hadn’t spent all that time just hunting lemongrass; he’d gathered dry grass and twigs too. Paired with his charcoal, it was enough for a campfire to grill a couple of fish.

…Well, five fish.

He built the fire on a dry patch of rock. As Chen Ji reached for his lighter, a whoosh of azure-blue flames erupted on the dry grass he held. He glanced sideways at White Tiger, who seemed absorbed in the scenery, and tossed the grass onto the pyre. The moment it landed, the flames surged several times larger. The charcoal ignited fully in a few breaths, radiating steady heat.

Chen Ji skewered the fish one by one and propped them beside the fire, sprinkling salt on top while they roasted.

The mountain breeze was chilly, especially by the water. To avoid soaking his clothes earlier, Chen Ji had stripped off his long pants and jacket. Now sitting still, he felt the cold seep in—but he was too lazy to get dressed.

He drew up his knees for warmth when the chill gust was suddenly blocked. White Tiger had silently come around behind him and lay down, encircling him.

Chen Ji was instantly enveloped by a genuine fur-lined sofa!

He relaxed his spine against White Tiger’s warmth. Firelight danced across him, lending the scene an unexpectedly tender glow. The perfect temperature emanated from behind, and Chen Ji murmured, “Grandpa White Tiger…”

White Tiger turned his head to look at him, waiting.

Chen Ji flipped over, sprawling atop him, and asked earnestly, “Since Grandpa White Tiger is so good with fire, why not just roast them yourself?”

White Tiger froze at the question. Chen Ji could swear his eyes went blank. Unable to help himself, Chen Ji lay there chuckling into White Tiger’s fur. When the laughter subsided, he planted a firm kiss right on the spot before continuing, “Is it because it doesn’t taste as good as real fire-roasted?”

Oil seeped from the roasting fish, soaking into the lemongrass. The fishy aroma mingled with the herb’s fragrance, creating a rich, distinctive scent.

White Tiger nodded stiffly.

Chen Ji propped his arms under his chin, tilting his head to watch, then reached out to muss White Tiger’s pristine fur into a tangled mess. White Tiger’s body twitched faintly. Unable to resist instinct, he lowered his head and licked his rumpled coat smooth.

Chen Ji kept teasing, deliberately extending his hand. Caught off guard, White Tiger gave Chen Ji’s arm a lick. The barbs rasped across skin without breaking it, leaving white streaks. Chen Ji yelped in pain. White Tiger froze, then nudged the arm with his pink nose before firmly shifting it away.

Chen Ji glanced and pressed a finger to White Tiger’s nose. “No harm done. Grandpa White Tiger was gentle… You didn’t mean to lick me, right?”

White Tiger gazed at him helplessly.

—He was the one who reached out.

Chen Ji seized White Tiger’s tail and toyed with it. He’d discovered yesterday during the bath how wonderfully tactile it was—sleek, solid, and satisfyingly full in his grip. White Tiger tried to pull it free at once, but Chen Ji slid his hand higher. “Grandpa White Tiger, just let me touch it a little.”

Sprawled atop him, Chen Ji cocked his head. “If you turned human, where would the tail be?”

White Tiger ignored him, pretending not to hear.

Chen Ji inched higher still. White Tiger’s muscles spasmed. Just as he prepared to yank his tail free and teach a lesson, Chen Ji released it voluntarily. “Oh? The fish! Hope it didn’t burn!”

White Tiger watched Chen Ji flash to the fire like teleporting. His tail hung in midair before dropping to the rock, twitching twice before relaxing.

Chen Ji flipped the fish. The side facing the fire had crisped slightly, revealing creamy flesh curled with mingled oil and juices, on the verge of dripping. Unable to resist, he tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth. Flavor exploded on his tongue, and he squinted in bliss. “Delicious.”

He tore another bit and held it to White Tiger’s mouth. “Grandpa White Tiger, try some. Is it too bland?”

White Tiger opened his mouth. Normally, Chen Ji would feed him directly, but this time he had already turned back to the fire. Reluctantly, White Tiger extended his tongue to lap it up, careful not to injure him. The broad tongue pressed under Chen Ji’s fingers, waiting for release.

Chen Ji felt the tongue’s tip brush his fingers. He turned, placed the morsel on it, and wiped his fingers on the tongue’s surface as if cleaning off oil. Casually, he said, “Go on, Grandpa White Tiger, taste it.”

The agile tongue curled the fish away. Such a tiny piece was negligible for White Tiger, but its tenderness melted instantly, undeniably delectable. A low purr rumbled in his throat—clearly, he approved.

Chen Ji stopped teasing, sensing White Tiger might get annoyed if he pushed further.

Suddenly, the System Cat’s voice chimed in: [Chen Ji, what delicious thing are you eating… Damn, mandarin fish?! Isn’t that National Class II?! You dare eat that?!]

Chen Ji paused: [……Huh?]

System Cat: [??? Hold on, you don’t even know what it is and you still grilled it?!]

Chen Ji fell silent for a moment before replying, […A National Class I hunting a National Class II probably won’t bother with a passerby like me, right?]

System Cat: […Good point. Let me have a bite too!]