The fish was grilled to perfection. Chen Ji picked it up, intending to feed it to Grandpa White Tiger, but the white tiger sniffed it and turned his head away. Chen Ji tested the temperature. “Too hot?”
Grandpa White Tiger nodded. Seeing this, Chen Ji hesitated for a moment before whispering, “Then… let’s wait until it cools a bit.”
Grandpa White Tiger gently rubbed his head against Chen Ji’s arm. When Chen Ji looked over, he shook his head slightly and nudged Chen Ji toward the campfire. Chen Ji understood his meaning, and a gentle smile softened his eyes. “Alright, I’ll eat first, then feed you when it’s cooler.”
Taking the opportunity, Chen Ji rubbed Grandpa White Tiger’s round ears, chuckling inwardly. He seemed completely unaware that he could eat it himself.
But Chen Ji wasn’t about to point that out. After all, he couldn’t bear the thought of such a magnificent big cat getting a fishbone stuck in his throat… Even if it was unlikely to happen, given that he’d probably just crunch through the bones—what if?
One fish was enough for Chen Ji. Once the System Cat shared his sense of taste, it had already gone off to scour its database for similar flavors. Now that Chen Ji had eaten his fill and gauged the taste, he picked up the now-cooled fish. Using chopsticks to pin the main bone from the belly, he gave it a firm shake, and the flesh separated cleanly from the bones.
The fillets came away in thick, garlic-clove-sized chunks—firm yet tender, with the fat rendered glossy and pale, quivering with juices. He placed the tin foil container in front of Grandpa White Tiger. “Grandpa White Tiger, give it a try.”
Thank goodness he always packed thoroughly. He’d brought plenty of those disposable, foldable tin foil trays; otherwise, Grandpa White Tiger would have had to eat off the ground.
Chen Ji started on the second fish, transferring each deboned portion to a tray. Grandpa White Tiger ate without so much as lifting his head, clearly enjoying it. Chen Ji decided to add fish to his shopping list. It might not be as fresh as catching and cooking on the spot, but most sea fish arrived frozen anyway.
A bit pricey, sure—but absolutely worth it for feeding Grandpa White Tiger.
The System Cat received the updated list, eyeing the cod, salmon, and others. [Chen Ji, keep spending like this, and you’ll need to figure out how to make some money… I figured your savings would last thirty years if you were frugal, but at this rate, ten might be pushing it.]
Chen Ji replied offhandedly, [Yeah, someday.]
They both knew what “someday” meant: after securing a peaceful, stable life. Days like these—living on the edge, not knowing if you’d mysteriously drop dead tomorrow—didn’t call for long-term planning, especially when money wasn’t an issue yet.
After all, what was the point of earning money if you weren’t alive to spend it?
The simple meal came to an end. Chen Ji disposed of the remaining bones and scraps, leaving no trace. Sated, both man and tiger were too lazy to move. They lounged on the waterless sun-warmed rocks, basking in the sunlight. Chen Ji idly stroked Grandpa White Tiger’s silky fur. Lost in thought, he booped the tiger’s pink nose. “You can’t eat this kind of fish anymore.”
Grandpa White Tiger tilted his head, clearly puzzled. Chen Ji smiled. “This is a nationally protected species. Eating it means jail time. Know what jail is, Grandpa White Tiger? It’s getting locked up, unable to go anywhere.”
As he spoke, Chen Ji couldn’t resist rubbing the tiger’s nose again. The damp tip felt cool against his palm. With a helpless sigh, he added, “Fine, fine… You can eat it, but no more catching them for me. A nationally protected slacker like me can’t touch them.”
Not that he absolutely couldn’t. If it came down to starving otherwise, he’d eat anything—even giant pandas or Northeast tigers, no hesitation. Though by then, who knew who’d be eating whom.
A low rumble of agreement vibrated in Grandpa White Tiger’s throat. Chen Ji leaned back, settling against the tiger’s sun-warmed fur, which felt like it was melting his very bones. Time passed—he wasn’t sure how long—before he suddenly flipped over on the tiger’s back, parted the fur, and grinned at him. “Grandpa White Tiger…”
Grandpa White Tiger eyed him warily. Every time Chen Ji called him like that, it spelled trouble. The first time, it was cheese cake stuck to his palate—Chen Ji had coaxed him into finishing a whole one. The second, a vile medicinal broth he’d been sweet-talked into drinking. The third, a bath. Now this was the fourth.
Chen Ji gazed into those azure-blue eyes, tempted to touch. And he did—his fingers landing gently on the tiger’s cheek. He cradled the massive head, his dark eyes fixed intently. “Grandpa White Tiger, we’re so close now…”
“Calling you Grandpa White Tiger all the time feels weird. Can I call you something else?” Chen Ji’s fingers stroked the sensitive fur along his cheek. Grandpa White Tiger instinctively narrowed his eyes in enjoyment, only to snap them wide open at the next words.
“Do you have a name, Grandpa White Tiger?”
Grandpa White Tiger stiffened for an instant before turning his head away. His enormous skull pressed heavily on Chen Ji’s arm, every whisker radiating deadpan gloom infused with Death Qi. Chen Ji gently turned the head back. “No name? That’s fine. How about I give you one?”
Grandpa White Tiger lowered his gaze, avoiding eye contact.
Chen Ji spread his fingers wide, cradling and kneading the big head. “Hmm… My surname’s Chen. If you don’t have a name, Grandpa White Tiger, you can take mine. How about…”
He feigned distress. Grandpa White Tiger couldn’t help lifting his eyes to look. Chen Ji’s gaze flickered with amusement. “Chen Mimi!”
Grandpa White Tiger froze, as if he hadn’t comprehended. Chen Ji patiently explained, ” ‘Mimi’ is a name humans often give to feline companions. It carries all our affection and well-wishes, hoping they’ll live smoothly and safely. What do you think, Grandpa White Tiger?”
Grandpa White Tiger ignored him. Chen Ji smirked inwardly and rubbed the tiger’s head harder, pretending obliviousness. “Is it good, Grandpa White Tiger? Can I call you Chen Mimi from now on?”
Like playing pretend? Fine, let’s keep playing.
Unlike the Yellow Weasel, who was small enough to hide in grass or sneak into villages without raising eyebrows—people went about their business even knowing one was nearby—a white tiger’s appearance anywhere, mountain or village, was headline news.
So humans like Chang Xu might know things Grandpa White Tiger didn’t.
Not that it mattered. Chen Ji just wanted to coax a word out of him… It had been long enough, hadn’t it?
With his head pinned, Grandpa White Tiger endured as Chen Ji coaxed patiently. “Grandpa White Tiger, can I call you Chen Mimi from now on? Or if you don’t like it, we can change it. Chen Xiangxiang? You’re such a fragrant, fluffy big tiger—it suits ‘Xiangxiang’ perfectly…”
Chen Ji persisted. “Grandpa White Tiger, give me some reaction…”
Grandpa White Tiger seemed to reach a decision and nodded silently.
His eyes looked as if they’d been dead for three months.
Chen Ji beamed with delight and planted a firm kiss on the top of his head. “Then from now on, it’s Chen… Wait, Xiangxiang or Mimi? Which do you like, Grandpa White Tiger?”
Grandpa White Tiger was too lazy to resist. Before he could even think, Chen Ji exclaimed, “Both? Awesome! You’re Chen Xiangxiang and Chen Mimi now! So cool!”
Chen Ji threw his arms around the tiger, flattening his majestic mane and ruffling it into a mess. Grandpa White Tiger turned his head aside for a clear breath.
It wasn’t a big deal… Whatever, let him have his fun.
“Chen Xiangxiang! Over here!”
“Mimi, come quick! Mushrooms here!”
“Xiangxiang, I can’t dig up this herb…”
Grandpa White Tiger padded over silently and pawed at the spot Chen Ji indicated, unearthing a small pit that revealed the plant’s root. Chen Ji happily rubbed his ears, praising lavishly. “Xiangxiang, you’re the best!”
Grandpa White Tiger dropped his head, pretending not to hear.
Chen Ji bent down to dig. “Ginseng, no less… How about ginseng chicken soup tonight?”
He didn’t need a reply from Grandpa White Tiger; he chattered happily on his own. As the main root emerged, his excitement grew. “This ginseng’s huge… We’ll eat some ourselves—no need for perfect roots. I’ll use a third for soup, and the rest to nourish you…”
Grandpa White Tiger: “…”
Chen Ji unearthed the ginseng in short order and tossed it carelessly into the bamboo basket. “Come on, let’s head deeper.”
With Grandpa White Tiger along, places that would have been death traps for Chen Ji alone now felt like a dreamlike playground—his personal happy farm. No or even venomous bugs dared approach.
Grandpa White Tiger flicked his tail, suddenly alert and staring at a certain spot. Chen Ji noticed and followed his gaze. The tiger’s ears twitched sharply. In the next instant, Chen Ji heard branches snapping closer, followed by a scream: “Aaaah—!”
Before Chen Ji could react, a flash of bright yellow streaked into view—gone in a blink, vanishing into the woods. Chen Ji paused. Someone tumbling down the mountain?
He hurried that way. Grandpa White Tiger, who had been behind him moments ago, was now ahead, bulldozing a path through the dense underbrush. Chen Ji followed close. Soon, they spotted a bright yellow figure slumped against a tree. Chen Ji rushed over to find a young man in a vivid yellow outdoor jacket.
The young man lay motionless, alive or dead unknown. Chen Ji halted mid-step, but the next second, remembering Grandpa White Tiger was there, he gave in to his instincts and approached.
The bright yellow jacket was torn open, blood gushing in heavy spurts. Chen Ji lunged forward, pressing his own clothes against the wound while slapping the young man’s face hard. “Wake up! Wake up!”
[His vitals are fading fast,] the System Cat reported. [Lungs punctured on both sides, shattered spine, massive internal bleeding. No saving him.]
Before the words finished, the young man snapped his eyes open, staring at Chen Ji in confusion. He could even speak. “I’m… okay?”
He even smiled.
He was just about to stand when he suddenly noticed a torrent of blood overflowing from the spot where Chen Ji was pressing down. His face went deathly pale in an instant, as if every last drop of his vitality had been drained away. He yanked out his phone, unlocked it with facial recognition, and thrust it into Chen Ji’s hands. “Password is 520520—save me, please! My family’s loaded! My WeChat has my mom on it…”
His words trailed off unfinished. The young man’s head lolled to one side, and he breathed his last.
The System Cat’s slightly mechanical voice echoed in Chen Ji’s mind: [Heart rate stopped.]
[Death confirmed.]
