“What is a human?” Qing asked. Xu Shuangci replied, “I am a human.”

Qing pressed his paw pads against the top of his head and the base of his tail.

“Beast form—ears and a tail.”

“I’m a human; my ears are right here.” Xu Shuangci pulled his paw pads to the side of his face. “And I don’t have a tail either.”

Qing thought for a moment, then nudged his face with the tip of his nose.

“I get it.”

So sub-beastmen were also a mutation—though his wasn’t a change in fur color, but an inability to shift into beast form. No wonder his health was so poor.

Fortunately, this wasn’t unheard of among sub-beastmen; Qing had encountered it before, and it didn’t affect their lifespan.

Xu Shuangci: “Is this the first time you’ve realized I’m different from you? Aren’t you a bit slow on the uptake?”

Qing: “Yeah, you’re different. I’m different, too.”

Xu Shuangci nodded. “I’m glad you understand.”

The human and the tiger clearly weren’t saying the same thing, yet they’d managed to come to an understanding. In any case, both felt they’d successfully made their point to the other. Maintaining this tacit understanding, Xu Shuangci finally drifted off to sleep after watching all the Red Feather Beasts hatch.

Having stayed up late, he didn’t wake up until well past mid-morning the next day.

The first thing Xu Shuangci did after waking up was to check on the chicks in the wicker basket.

They were all full of energy, looking surprisingly mature with their tiny wings tucked against their backs, chirping away the moment they saw anyone.

After Xu Shuangci had found some insects to feed them, he began washing the pots and preparing dinner.

It had rained continuously for a day and a night, and the water in the stream by the cave was now murky and filthy.

Using the remaining water from the water cistern, Xu Shuangci said to Qing, “Once the rain stops, we’ll have to fill up the new water cistern too.”

Qing dug his claws into the fur ball, lifted it up, then placed it between his paws and quietly fiddled with it.

“Okay.”

His ears twitched. Ever since he’d woken up, those red-feathered beasts had been chirping nonstop. Qing found it annoying. He hooked the fur ball with his tail and strolled leisurely over to the wicker basket.

He peered inside.

“Cheep, cheep, cheep—”

The sudden, sharp, childlike shriek startled Xu Shuangci, who quickly turned to look.

He found the big cat standing by the wicker basket, staring intently inside. Its paw hovered, poised to reach in, and Xu Shuangci’s heart sank.

“Qing, they haven’t grown up yet—you can’t eat it!”

Qing turned his head away, took two steps back, and crouched down.

“Noisy.”

Xu Shuangci thought it was a bit of a commotion, too.

As he scooped water from the pot into a bucket, he explained:

“They’re still small. Since there’s no mother hen to look after them, we have to keep them by the fire. Once they’re a bit bigger, we can build a shed outside to raise them.”

“A hen?” The big cat tilted its head.

Xu Shuangci’s eyes crinkled into a smile: “They’re the red-feathered creatures that lay eggs.”

Qing saw that the rain had let up, so he released the fur ball, stood up, and swished his tail.

“I’ll go catch one.”

“You’re not allowed to go!”

Xu Shuangci didn’t even bother to cook dinner; he ran over and grabbed Qing by the ear.

“You’ve been up for two days and two nights straight. You’ve only just fallen asleep. If you’re going to grab one, don’t do it now when it’s raining.”

Qing turned his head, only to find that Xu Shuangci’s hand had followed his ear. He couldn’t pull it free.

Qing: “It’s really noisy.”

Xu Shuangci: “Then let’s move it next door for now. What do you think?”

“We haven’t stockpiled much food since spring began, so that cave over there is practically empty. We’ll build a fire, and I’ll just pop over every now and then to check on them.”

Qing watched Xu Shuangci’s lips move as he spoke, then curiously pressed his nose against them. Just as Xu Shuangci froze in surprise, he twitched his ears and pulled away.

“Alright.” Qing turned and walked away.

But Xu Shuangci wouldn’t let it go.

Recalling the fleeting image that had flashed before his eyes, he wrapped his arms around Qing’s head and turned his toward him.

Sure enough, beneath the white fur, his ears were pink. When he touched them, they were actually slightly warm.

Xu Shuangci was amazed. Even Qing’s ears are this beautiful.

Qing pushed him away with his paws and walked silently toward the bed.

Xu Shuangci pursed his lips.

A big cat’s nose is cool, but its ears are warm.

Do tigers’ ears get hot? Or do tigers get shy? He supposed so.

He curved his lips upward; at least Qing seemed to.

Having spent over half a year with him, Xu Shuangci had come to understand most of Qing’s temperament. He was usually steady and composed, but after spending time together, he would occasionally reveal a bit of a feline’s natural curiosity.

Like just now, for instance.

Xu Shuangci pursed his lips, not feeling particularly offended. Putting himself in Qing’s shoes, he’d probably be all over Qing, kissing and petting him too.

With his stomach full, Xu Shuangci paced back and forth in the cave to aid digestion, thinking about how his grandparents used to feed the chicks.

Newly hatched chicks are fragile; they can’t stand the cold or too much heat. They also can’t be placed directly on the ground just yet.

They had to be kept in a basket for a few days before being let out.

Even after being released, their range of movement was limited to indoors; they still couldn’t be allowed to run outside.

Lost in thought, Xu Shuangci found himself walking over to the neighboring cave.

Qing followed close behind, his paw pads making no sound.

Feeling an itch on his lower back, Xu Shuangci reached back to push the large head resting on his shoulder.

“I knew it was you.”

Qing: “What are you doing?”

“Just seeing where it fits best.”

Come to think of it, if they were going to raise chickens in this cave, keeping the food here wouldn’t be a good idea.

What if the chickens got sick? If they ate food contaminated with a virus, wouldn’t that be asking for trouble? Qing could tell he was torn, so he spoke up: “There are other caves.”

“What cave?”

Xu Shuangci followed Qing down the slope in puzzlement. Then, on the lower right side, hidden beneath tangled branches on the rock face, they found a small, abandoned cave. Perfect—it could serve as a chicken coop.

“Perfect!” Xu Shuangci gave Qing a sharp tug on the head, making the skin on his scalp wrinkle. Qing: “Leaving the game out here will make it go bad.”

Xu Shuangci: “No problem. I’ll clear it out first. Spread some dry grass and plant ash, and it’ll be ready.” No sooner said than done, Xu Shuangci went back to fetch an axe and began chopping away the surrounding branches.

Seeing Qing following behind him and yawning repeatedly, Xu Shuangci told him to go back to sleep, then spent half the afternoon clearing out the cave.

He spread a thick layer of plant ash on the floor and covered it with dry grass. Then he built a fire—that way, it would never get damp.

Once the chicks were moved over, the large cave where they slept immediately felt much more comfortable.

Just as Qing had said, the rain fell continuously for six or seven days.

Once the gloom lifted and the sky cleared, Xu Shuangci immediately took the animal hides from the cave and washed them with plant ash. Qing had gone out hunting early, so Xu Shuangci set about making a pottery pot.

In the evening, Qing returned.

Xu Shuangci gathered the animal hides that had been drying and then heard a chicken clucking.

He ran outside to look and saw Qing carrying a chicken with colorful feathers, trying to stuff it into the cave.

Xu Shuangci froze for a moment, then ran down.

“Did you catch it?”

“Yeah.”

The chirping continued. Following the sound, Xu Shuangci spotted the leather pouch Qing was holding in his mouth. He opened it.

Good grief, he’d raided the whole nest!

Inside, a dozen or so chicks were scrambling frantically, trampling over one another.

Xu Shuangci quickly took it down, went into the cave, and put them in the newly built pen. Qing reminded him, “Red-feathered beasts can fly.”

Xu Shuangci replied, “No problem. Just trim a bit off their wings.”

Xu Shuangci stared at the Red-Feathered Beast lying on the ground with its legs bound. It truly lived up to its name—its feathers were a kaleidoscope of reds, more dazzling than the glow of the sunset.

He lifted it by the claws to test its weight.

Even a fully grown Red-Feathered Beast weighs only three or four pounds. It’s no match for specially bred broiler chickens.

But since he had taken them in, Xu Shuangci had no reason to let them go.

Xu Shuangci put it in the pen with the chicks, clipping its wings first but leaving its legs unclipped. He fed it for a couple of days and let the two groups of chicks mix together to get used to each other.

Now that there was someone to tend to the chicks, the fire over here didn’t need to be kept burning constantly.

Xu Shuangci spread out the smoldering plant ash from the firewood, waited for it to burn out completely, and piled it in the pen to serve as bedding for the chicks.

Once he left the cave, he secured the entrance with the rattan door he’d made.

This would prevent them from darting out and keep some of their natural predators at bay.

That should do the trick.

Back in the cave, Qing was already dozing on the animal hide.

Xu Shuangci had meat simmering in the pot, so there was no need to cook dinner. He walked over to Qing, sat cross-legged, and lifted the big cat’s head to rest it on his lap.

First, he rubbed the cat’s ears, then massaged its scalp and chin. Qing purred, swishing his tail to wrap it around Xu Shuangci.

Xu Shuangci smiled. “You’ve worked hard, Qing.”

Even through the animal hide, Qing’s nose could brush against the soft flesh on Xu Shuangci’s stomach—a thin layer of it. “Eat a little more,” he said.

Xu Shuangci: “I’m already eating more than I used to.”

Qing: “You need to eat the herbs.”

“When have I ever missed a day?” Xu Shuangci plucked a hair from the tip of his nose.

“Speaking of that,” he said, thinking of the Priest and the seeds he hadn’t received yet, “we can have the Priest and the others come along on our next hunt. The pottery will be ready in a few days.”

The rain earlier set things back; otherwise, the process would have gone faster.

This time, when the Cat Tribe arrived, Qing didn’t go to meet them; they came on their own. They rested for the night.

The next morning, after Xu Shuangci fed the Redfeather Beast, he took the dry firewood stored in the cave and used it to fire the second batch of pottery.

Qing, having been instructed by Xu Shuangci to go up the mountain and check the salt fields, refilled them with water. Upon returning, he headed straight for the small hill.

The small river meandered, winding its way past the hill.

The water was clear, and a school of large fish with gaping mouths could be faintly seen.

The riverbanks here were relatively open, unobstructed by dense forest. Stone slabs were laid along the riverbank, and Chang often processed game in this spot. Now, the thick grass that had once grown there was gone, replaced by a rectangular mud pit on the level ground.

Red earth had piled up, and sitting on the smooth stone slabs at the edge was a handsome young man.

Xu Shuangci’s long black hair was tied into a small bun with a piece of animal hide, revealing his gentle eyes and brows. He kept glancing at the fire in the kiln and then at the clay pot in his hands, busy beyond measure. The sunlight bathed him, making him look like a polished piece of raw jade—smooth and radiating a subdued luster.

The sun was already quite scorching today.

After several days of rain, the temperature had risen considerably.

Xu Shuangci heard the faint sound of the big cat’s paw pads touching the ground. He looked up and smiled at Qing, who was trying to scare him again.

“You can’t scare me anymore.”

Qing: “Not yet.”

Even if you can’t dodge the sound, it’ll still cause trouble.

Qing had been training him on purpose from the very beginning. Through osmosis, it seems to have had some effect now. Qing: “What else do you need to do?”

Xu Shuangci pointed to the pile of damp wood.

“Spread them out to dry.”

Qing nodded and walked over slowly. Then, he swiped his paw at a bundle of firewood in the middle a few times, and the stacked wood, as if it had lost its support, collapsed with a crash.

Xu Shuangci was so startled that his grip tightened, causing the clay form he’d just molded to dent. He laughed helplessly, “Don’t crush yourself.”

Qing’s gaze flickered over the clay in his hand before he turned away. To Xu Shuangci, it looked just a little like he was feeling guilty. He smiled and went back to repairing it.

After that, Qing didn’t make such a commotion again. He walked straight into the woodpile.

Not wanting to touch the damp wood with his tail, he used his paws to spread it out. With his great strength, it was spread out in just a few strokes.

Xu Shuangci glanced over when he had a moment.

If he had to do it himself, he’d have to carry them down bundle by bundle.

“Big cats really are impressive.”

Qing swished his paws twice and walked over to him.

“Don’t call me Big Cat.”

“Is it just a nickname?” Xu Shuangci used a piece of string to cut a lump of clay and placed it in front of Qing’s paw. 

“Call me Qing.”

“Big Cat.”

“Qing.”

Xu Shuangci beamed with amusement: “Big Cat, Big Cat, Big Cat…”

Qing crouched down, watching Xu Shuangci’s radiant expression, and gently nudged his cheek with the tip of his nose. He didn’t argue anymore.

Xu Shuangci pressed his lips together in a faint smile.

He leaned in, burying himself in Qing’s fur.

He murmured, “Qing… I really, really like you.”

Qing raised a paw to shield Xu Shuangci’s back, preventing him from slipping down. Upon hearing those words of affection, his tail twitched upward.