Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

The wind grew stronger in the latter half of the night.

Li Baotian, clutching a Type 56 semi-automatic rifle, huddled in the narrowest gap of the cliff.

His eyes were wide open like copper bells as he stared intently at the dark forest outside, not daring to even breathe loudly.

At the slightest sound of a branch snapping in the wind, his finger would instinctively reach for the trigger.

Old Sun wasn't idle either.

He carried a machete, searched around the bottom of the cliff, and chopped down two birch trees as thick as a wrist.

They neatly trimmed off the branches, cut the wood root into two equal sections, and then used vines and rags to firmly tie together the base of a simple sled.

The pine torches in the fire crackled and popped.

Zhao Shanhe leaned against the boulder, half-asleep, feeling as if a scalding hot iron had been shoved into the wound on his thigh.

He bit his lower lip hard, even when he tasted blood, he swallowed the throbbing pain back down and endured it.

Until finally, a layer of pale light appeared on the horizon.

The pale morning light shone through the cracks in the rocks, completely revealing the bloody truth of the Broken Head Cliff.

Li Baotian glanced back, and his stomach churned violently. He grabbed a stone and began to dry heave.

Last night the light was dim, all I knew was that it was horrific.

Now that it's broad daylight, the entire muddy ground at the bottom of the cliff has been smeared with the black blood of the giant insect, turning it into a reddish-brown mess.

The four or five hundred-pound mountain king lay in a pool of blood. Even though it was completely dead and stiff, its ferocious aura was still so intense that people dared not look directly at it.

Old Sun walked over with his axe, circled the tiger, and the wrinkles around his eyes deepened.

Li Baotian wiped the sour taste from the corner of his mouth and pointed at the dead tiger on the ground: "Uncle Sun, what should we do with this big item? We can't just leave it here, can we? It's incredibly valuable."

Old Sun wiped the cold sweat from his face, his withered lips pressed into a thin line: "I can't take the whole corpse with me."

"The man and the dog together weigh nearly 200 pounds, and this sled is already heavy enough. If we add this mountain of flesh on top of that, none of us will get down the mountain alive."

Li Baotian stomped his foot and said urgently, "What if he gets eaten by wolves or other wild animals? Wouldn't Brother Shanhe have risked his life for nothing?"

"If you can't take the whole body with you, then take off the most important parts."

Without wasting a word, Old Sun pulled a sharp skinning knife from his back and strode over to the tiger carcass.

His cloudy old eyes suddenly flashed with a fierce light, and he pressed his wrist down sharply, the tip of the knife plunging directly into the tiger's chin.

"Sizzle—"

With a sickeningly painful sound of flesh tearing, the sharp knife in Old Sun's hand moved like a fish, slicing open the tiger's belly along its neck and heading straight for the base of its tail.

Skinning a tiger is a physically demanding task.

Old Sun beckoned Li Baotian over to lend a hand.

The two men grabbed the edge of the tiger skin and cut the connecting fascia piece by piece, forcibly peeling the yellow and black tiger skin off its flesh.

When he reached the tail, Old Sun raised his knife and slashed it off, severing the tiger's tail, which resembled a steel whip, along with the entire tail.

Then he walked up to the bloodied tiger head, pried open the tiger's jaw with the handle of his knife, and with a flick of the tip of his knife, pried off two large tiger teeth covered in blood.

After finishing with these large items, Old Sun didn't rush to put away his knife.

He squinted his cloudy old eyes, his gaze sweeping down the pile of red and white dead flesh.

He then flipped his wrist, and the skinning knife made an extremely ruthless cut around the tiger's crotch, the tip of the knife neatly picking out a long, bloody piece.

Li Baotian was taken aback at first, but when he saw what it was, his face turned red to the roots of his neck.

"You...you want this thing too?"

Old Sun tossed the thing onto the snow and snorted.

"You don't know anything."

"This is a top-quality item that you can't buy even with gold bars."

Li Baotian's face turned bright red, and he didn't know where to look.

"Uncle Sun, I...I don't need this."

Old Sun glanced at him sideways.

"Who said you could use it?" Li Baotian had just breathed a sigh of relief when Old Sun slowly added another sentence.

"If you don't use it now, who knows what might happen in the future."

Li Baotian's face turned even redder, and he was so anxious that he almost jumped up.

"I really don't need it!"

Old Sun chuckled, rolled up the tiger penis in a rag, and stuffed it next to the medicine basket.

Whether or not you use it is not up to you.

"I'll ask Xiulan when we get back."

Li Baotian was so embarrassed that his ears turned red.

"Uncle Sun!"

Old Sun didn't waste any more words. He pointed to the terrifying mountain of flesh on the ground, now stripped of its skin and fur: "Go, cut some thorny thistles and black pine branches, and cover this beast's body completely. Cover it with several layers, and even sprinkle some ashes from the fire on top to mask the smell."

"Once Shanhe is returned to the village and settled, I will lead people into the mountains with gongs and drums to carry away the meat."

Old Sun rubbed his hands, which were covered in blood, with snow while staring at the pile of red and white dead flesh.

"Tiger bone soaked in wine is a top-grade medicine for treating rheumatism, and tiger meat is a potent warming medicine that can make people's noses bleed. This mountain of meat, weighing four or five hundred pounds, is all good stuff, from skin to bone."

The blush on Li Baotian's face hadn't completely faded yet. Upon hearing this, he didn't dare to delay and quickly picked up his axe to frantically chop down black pine branches.

The two worked quickly and efficiently, and in less than half an hour, they had completely covered the remaining flesh of the mountain king with a mound of thorny pine branches.

A thick layer of ashes freshly shoveled from the fire was sprinkled on top, effectively suppressing most of the overwhelming stench of blood.

Old Sun then turned around and dragged the makeshift sled he had just set up under the boulder.

The tiger skin, freshly peeled off with its whiskers and tail intact, weighed several dozen kilograms, including the skin and blood.

Old Sun turned it over and rolled it into a tight leather pad, laying it flat at the bottom of the sled. He then put a thick layer of dry grass and Li Baotian's tattered cotton-padded jacket on top.

After finishing all this, Old Sun exhaled a long breath of white air and looked up at Zhao Shanhe, who was leaning against a rock, panting.

His voice returned to its hard, rough tone: "Kid, can you still move? Grit your teeth and get up here yourself. Baotian and I have to pull the cart ahead and clear the way; we don't have the extra strength to lift you."

Zhao Shanhe leaned against the cold rock wall and tugged at the corners of his dry, bleeding mouth.

He didn't say anything, but simply tucked the deer antler hunting knife into his back, gripped the icy crevice in the rock with one hand, and dragged his bandaged leg, like a dying, unyielding wolf, inch by inch, onto the sled.

With each movement, cold sweat rolled down his forehead, and even his eyelashes trembled violently.

But he gritted his teeth so hard that he couldn't even let out a groan of pain.

When his hands finally gripped the edge of the tiger skin at the bottom, he used the last bit of strength in his body to lunge forward and slam heavily into the haystack.

Immediately afterwards, he gripped the crack in the wood tightly with both hands, and with his good leg, he kicked hard in the snow, managing to drag his battered lower body up little by little.

He collapsed, completely exhausted, onto the blood-smelling bedding roll, his chest heaving violently.

Zhao Shanhe closed his eyes, panting for a long time before finally squeezing out a sentence through gritted teeth: "Black Dragon..."

Old Sun snorted coldly, "You'll get your dog! Baotian, bring that dog up here."

Li Baotian scrambled to the fire and carefully picked up the black dragon from the bottom.

Li Baotian held it tightly, his arms stiff, not daring to exert any force: "Uncle Sun, where should we put it?"

"Put them next to him!" Old Sun pointed his pipe to the side of Zhao Shanhe, "Let the two of them sit together."

As soon as the black dragon was put down, it seemed to smell its master's scent while it was unconscious. Its drooping head moved very slightly and it rubbed against Zhao Shanhe's arm.

Zhao Shanhe stroked its head and said, "Old friend, we're going home."