That evening, the wind howled fiercely.

Thick snowflakes fell, and inside the cave, one could still hear a rustling sound, as if something were gnawing away. Xu Shuangci peered outside through the top of the rattan door.

The snow glistened in the light.

The shadows of the trees swayed, making the night feel even colder.

Suddenly, the sound of falling snow was mingled with the howls of wild beasts. Xu Shuangci’s hand trembled, and the hairs on his arms stood on end.

He stood frozen for a moment. When the howling ceased, the cave was left with only the crackling of burning firewood and the sound of Qing chopping wood.

Xu Shuangci instinctively looked at Qing and whispered, “Was that something howling just now?”

Qing’s paws paused, and his round ears perked up. After listening for a moment, he said, “They’re fighting.” 

Xu Shuangci: “What’s fighting?”

Qing scratched at the wood in front of him and said casually, “They’re fighting over meat.”

During the snow season on the Golden Continent, whether it’s rogue beastmen, small tribes, or large tribes with powerful beastmen, all may face food shortages.

Especially during the final stretch of the snow season each year, starving beastmen would turn on one another. Bloodshed was common; death was common.

The sound came and went, and Xu Shuangci walked to the doorway to listen to the commotion outside. Qing scratched the wood fiercely with his claws.

“It’s dangerous out there. Don’t go out.”

“I’m just listening.” Xu Shuangci walked back to the fire. “Are they close to us?” 

“To the north—neither too close nor too far.”

“Will they attack us?” 

“It’s possible.”

The cave was also to the north, not far from the northern border of Qing’s territory.

But the north was even more barren—desert grasslands and towering snow-capped mountains. Qing thought for a moment; there seemed to be a small herbivore tribe over there.

The herbivore tribe wouldn’t dare come, but starving, desperate rogue beastmen would.

Most of them were nomads with no fixed abode; rogue beastmen like Qing, who had staked out their own territory and had the strength to defend it, were few and far between. For a single bite to eat, they were capable of anything; driven to desperation, it wasn’t impossible for beastmen to turn on one another.

Xu Shuangci felt uneasy at his words.

Qing noticed the tight line of his mouth and, hooking his arm around a tree stump, walked over to the fire.

His tail brushed against his leg.

Xu Shuangci reached out his hand, and as Qing’s tail settled on his leg, its weight gradually soothed his anxiety. Xu Shuangci said, “If it really comes to a fight, take me with you. We’ll get hurt if we fight.”

Qing refused. “I won’t run.”

In the eastern part of the Golden Continent, no beastman could defeat him.

A chaotic roar echoed through the air.

The piercing sounds sent a chill down Xu Shuangci’s spine.

Another month had passed, and the snow season was drawing to a close. But there was hardly any food left in the cave.

There were plenty of plants for Xu Shuangci to eat—things like sweet roots—but Qing preferred meat.

Xu Shuangci sat in a rattan chair, holding a wooden cup filled with red fruit juice, but he no longer felt like drinking it. Frowning, he said, “Why don’t we set some traps and see if we can catch some game in the forest?”

Qing stared at the last fish skewered on a stick, his tongue flicking against the tip of his nose.

“There’s no game.”

Xu Shuangci: “With a forest this big, we might just be able to catch something.” 

Qing: “We won’t.”

Xu Shuangci sighed in frustration. “Then what are you going to eat?” Qing fiddled with the wooden skewer in front of him.

“I’ll eat fish.”

Originally, the fish had been strung together, but two wolves came by and carried off two-thirds of them in one go. They’d been eating the rest ever since, and this was the last one left.

Only five prey animals remained in the den. Three were the size of sika deer, and two were about the size of rabbits.

Based on Qing’s appetite, that would be enough for five or six meals.

Normally, a tiger’s appetite is substantial—one meal can sustain it for four or five days—but Qing was different. He ate about as often as Xu Shuangci.

Sometimes three meals a day, sometimes four. The portions aren’t that large; it’s more of an “eat little, eat often” approach.

But the meat was running out. Even with the plants Xu Shuangci had gathered to tide them over, it would still take at least another month for the snowy season to pass. Xu Shuangci sighed, “The river’s frozen over.”

Qing’s solution was simple and brutal: “Smash it.”

And so, this is the scene that unfolded.

Xu Shuangci was wrapped in animal hides like a ball, with only his eyes peeking out. He sat before a roaring campfire, his movements restricted by the thick layers of clothing.

Beside him lay the frozen river.

A massive silver tiger swept the snow off the ice with its tail, then hooked a rock with its tail and smashed it down onto the surface with a mighty thud.

“Thud, thud, thud—”

Its tail left a trail of afterimages.

Blow after blow, shards of ice flew everywhere.

Xu Shuangci struggled to rest his elbows on his knees, resting his heavy, fur-wrapped head in his palms as he watched the furious big cat on the ice. He muttered, “By next year, I’ll have to stockpile more food. And hide it in more places.”

Fortunately, Qing possessed immense brute strength.

As the ice cracked open, fish naturally swam up in search of oxygen.

Xu Shuangci watched as Qing lay flat on the ice, his hindquarters raised, half his body hanging over the edge, hooking one plump fish after another with his claws and flinging them onto the ice.

The fish weighed over ten pounds.

As soon as they hit the ice, they twitched a few times before instantly freezing in all sorts of twisted positions.

Once he’d finished catching fish from one hole, Qing—as if he had endless energy—moved on to another spot to keep drilling.

The fish in the river had been there for who knows how many years.

Beastmen usually hunted animals in the woods for food; even those who liked fish couldn’t catch many due to the river’s cold waters. This meant the fish in the river were huge and plump, too numerous to count.

Their current location was a bit of a distance from the cave.

They were now at the confluence of the small river and the large river. Here, the river was wide, spanning a full kilometer.

After catching a batch of fish, no matter how cold-resistant Qing was, he had to follow Xu Shuangci to warm himself by the fire and rest for a while. They stayed there for three days.

Three days later, Xu Shuangci fashioned a sled for Qing, and they set off to carry the several hundred pounds of fish back. Every so often, they had to stop and build a fire to warm themselves.

Xu Shuangci was completely wrapped in animal hides, lying on Qing’s back, where he felt not a breath of wind. Once he’d adjusted to Qing’s pace, he could even doze off on top of him.

However, after hearing the big cat sneeze a few times, Xu Shuangci thought he could make some animal-skin clothing for the big cat as well. Upon returning to the cave, Xu Shuangci immediately retrieved the stored fire starter and reignited the fire.

He closed the entrance to the cave and waited until it had warmed up a bit before taking off the animal hide. Outdoors, he wore three more layers than he did inside the cave.

He tossed the fish into the neighboring cave.

Outside was a natural, massive cold storage unit; no matter how he stored it, it wouldn’t spoil. The smell of the slaughtered fish was very bloody.

In the forest, this scent held a deadly allure for the starving beastmen. The cave entrance was open; Qing carried the fish guts, wrapped in leaves, out to dispose of them.

Inside the cave, they were simmering fish soup and cooking Qing’s favorite dish: grilled fish.

Once the door was closed, the warm glow inside the room was enjoyed by only one person and one tiger.

At night, after another hearty meal, it was nearly time to rest. Having been out for three days, there were no facilities for washing up.

Xu Shuangci brushed his teeth with a homemade toothbrush, then wiped his face with a washcloth made from the other sleeve of his pajamas. He then curled up in the animal skin, using a fresh washcloth to wipe down his body.

Qing sat by the fire; from where he was crouched, he could just make out a sliver of waistline peeking out from beneath the golden-red animal skin blanket. It was narrow and glowed with whiteness.

Qing watched with curiosity, feeling a tingling itch in his teeth. He’d never seen a sub-beastman with skin this fair and delicate.

He wanted to take a bite.

After drying off, Xu Shuangci wrapped himself tightly in the animal-skin cloak and stepped out. The cold air stung his face. He touched it and found it was actually a bit rough to the touch.

He brought his face close to Qing’s and said, “Help me check if there’s a cut on my face.” Qing leaned forward and gently brushed his nose against Xu Shuangci’s face.

“It’s going to crack.”

His face was an unnatural shade of red, like the early signs of frostbite he’d seen on sub-beastmen back in the tribe. Xu Shuangci bared his teeth, turned around, and grabbed some animal fat to rub on his face.

As he passed the big cat, he dabbed a bit on the tip of his nose. Qing stared at the tip of his nose, looking rather dazed.

Xu Shuangci smiled and rubbed it in for him.

“To protect your nose and keep it from cracking.”

Qing sat up and sniffed at Xu Shuangci’s face. He shook his head, his ears twitching softly.

“Doesn’t it smell good?” Xu Shuangci asked.

“I don’t like it.”

It was as if Xu Shuangci had picked up the scent of another animal—anyone other than him—which made him feel repulsed. He wanted to lick it clean.

Xu Shuangci rubbed his head, then quickly pulled his hand away.

“You have to put it on even if you don’t like it.”

“Let’s go to sleep. I’m tired.”

Qing went outside to roll around in the snow, then warmed his fur by the fire as usual before crawling into the blankets. Past midnight, all was silent.

Suddenly, a faint, barely audible sound caught Qing’s ear. He quietly opened his eyes.

The firewood in the hearth was nearly burned out, and the light inside the cave was dim.

Qing withdrew the pads of his paws from Xu Shuangci’s back and rose, landing on the ground without a sound. He stood at the entrance, peering out through the crack.

His round ears twitched.

In the snow, there was the crunch of paws trampling the snow. A moment later, there was a dragging sound.

Qing’s eyes flickered. He caught the scent of blood carried by the wind, along with the unfamiliar scent of another beastman. He narrowed his eyes but did not step outside. The sounds were faint and vanished just as quickly.

Qing waited a moment, then made out the tiny creature slipping away in the snow. Fluffy and tiny.

It was a cat tribe.

Watching them leave, Qing returned to his den.

Xu Shuangci vaguely sensed him slip into the blankets, assuming he’d just gotten up for a nighttime visit. He rolled over and nestled back into his fur. The night passed without incident.

When Qing woke up in the morning, he stepped out of the cave to take a look. The fish guts he’d thrown out last night were gone. The beastman who’d come was pretty bold.

But it looked like a cub.

For the next month, Qing placed the innards he’d taken out back in their original spot.

He quietly watched the little creature that came looking for food; once he confirmed it was a cub, he stopped chasing it away. As the snow melted and spring returned, the little stream by the cave began to gurgle again.

As the snow season passed, who knows how many beastmen were wounded or died on the Golden Continent? But for those who survived the snow season, life was allowed to continue. The speed at which the snow melted was astonishing.

In just five days, the snow that had once been a meter deep had melted away to a mere thin layer.

Xu Shuangci crouched by the stream, dipped his finger in the clear water, and exclaimed in surprise, “There are already little fish so soon.” “They came back from the river,” Qing said, twitching his ears indifferently.

“Spring is still the best,” Xu Shuangci smiled, picking up the rotten fruit in his hand and standing up.

Not far from the cave was the spot Qing used exclusively for trash. It was piled high with animal bones, plant ash, fruit peels, and the like. Xu Shuangci glanced inside—the bottom was completely empty.

“I threw away so many fish guts—did they decompose that quickly?”

Qing: “They were eaten.”

Xu Shuangci: “Who ate them?” 

Qing: “Cats.”