20: Chapter 20 Xiao Wang, I'm Back

Two months later, you arrived in the vicinity of Yunjin City.

The hidden injuries in your Meridians would flare up whenever it was cloudy or rainy, causing such pain that you couldn't walk, leaving you no choice but to lean against a large tree by the roadside and wait for the rain to stop. The True Qi from your Azure Sky Heart Method was like an oil lamp about to run dry, barely maintaining your physical vessel so it wouldn't fall apart.

But you did not return to Yunjin City first.

You took a detour and entered Daliang Mountain.

You wanted to find Xiao Wang.

It has been over twenty years. You knew in your heart that the lifespan of a white tiger was at most twenty years or so; even if Xiao Wang hadn't encountered any accidents, after so many years, it should have long since died of old age.

But you still wanted to go and see.

You found that stream.

The stream was much thinner than in your memory; a section of the riverbed had even dried up, exposing cracked earth. The large rock by the stream where you used to wash clothes was still there, but it was covered in moss, and weeds had grown out of the crevices.

You walked upstream along the stream and found that stone cave.

The shape of the cave entrance hadn't changed, but the smell inside had completely altered. A strong, fishy stench surged out from the cave, mixed with the smell of rotting bones and animal hides.

You stood at the cave entrance and saw its new owner—a black bear.

It was curled up deep inside the cave, gnawing on a bone. Upon hearing the disturbance, it lifted its head, glared at you with its small eyes, and let out a low, threatening growl.

You looked at it, looked at the patch of stone floor beneath it where you had once spread dry grass and slept for countless nights, and fell silent.

Then you turned and left.

The black bear was none of your business. This mountain forest had changed owners, just like the cities in the human world changed banners; it was only natural.

You went down the mountain and found the nearest village at the foot of the mountain.

The village was not large, with a few dozen households where chickens and dogs could be heard. You knocked on the door of an old farmer at the entrance of the village and asked him if he knew about a white tiger that once lived on Daliang Mountain.

The old farmer looked you up and down. A gray-haired, elderly woman with a sword hanging at her waist; although she looked old, her eyes still held spirit.

"A white tiger?" The old farmer thought for a moment. "Yes. That was many years ago."

"Do you remember roughly when that was?" you asked.

The old farmer took a few puffs of his dry tobacco pipe and frowned as he recalled, "It's been at least fifteen or sixteen years. That tiger was very strange; it wouldn't stay in the mountains, but would run down to the foot of the mountain every few days to wander around. Sometimes it would crouch on the small road outside the village entrance. It wouldn't enter the village, nor would it hurt anyone; it would just crouch there, watching the direction of the road."

Your fingers tightened slightly.

"At first, we were scared to death. Every household locked their doors and windows, not daring to go out. Later, we realized it really wouldn't hurt anyone, so we became a bit bolder. But it was a tiger after all. What if it lost its temper one day? Would the children still dare to go out?"

"And then?" your voice was calm.

"Later, the village pooled some money together and hired a Martial Artist." The old farmer tapped his pipe. "That Martial Artist had some skills. He set a trap to lure the tiger over, and a few people surrounded it, hacking and stabbing until they killed it."

You stood there without speaking.

The old farmer glanced at you. "Why are you asking about this?"

"That tiger…" you paused, "was one I used to raise."

The old farmer was stunned for a moment.

"No wonder," he muttered. "No wonder that bea... that tiger kept running down the mountain. Turns out it was waiting for someone."

You didn't respond.

You asked the old farmer how they handled the tiger after it died.

"The meat was divided up right then; some was sold, and the villagers shared the rest. The tiger bones were used to soak wine. As for the tiger pelt…" the old farmer thought for a moment, "The tiger pelt was bought by the Zhao family in town. The Zhao family is wealthy and offered a good price."

You thanked the old farmer and turned to head to town.

You didn't say a word on the way.

Your mind kept replaying what the old farmer said— "It would run down to the foot of the mountain every few days to wander around, crouching on the road and watching the direction of the road."

It was waiting for you.

When you left, you told it you would return. It couldn't understand human speech, but it remembered the direction you left in.

It waited for you for a long time, waiting until it was surrounded and killed by people.

You gripped the sword hilt tightly. Your knuckles turned white.

But you took a deep breath and let go.

You couldn't blame the villagers. To them, a tiger crouching at the village entrance was like a blade hanging over their heads. They had wives, children, and elderly parents; they had a hundred reasons to be afraid, and a hundred reasons to eliminate this tiger.

You couldn't demand that others treat it as a pet just because it was Xiao Wang.

The Zhao family in town was not hard to find.

You explained your purpose. The head of the Zhao family was a fat merchant in his fifties. He looked you up and down, his gaze lingering for a moment on the sword at your waist.

"You want to buy that tiger pelt?" he asked.

"Yes, how much?"

Merchant Zhao quoted a price; it wasn't cheap, but it wasn't extortionate either.

You took the silver from your bosom, didn't even count it, and slapped it directly onto the table.

Seeing that you were a Martial Artist and elderly, Merchant Zhao didn't make things difficult. He had a servant bring the tiger pelt. It was a rolled-up white tiger pelt, preserved relatively intact, with black stripes on a white background, but the fur had lost its luster, and it didn't feel as soft as when it was alive.

Your hand trembled when you took the tiger pelt.

You carried the tiger pelt out of the Zhao residence, found a sunny hillside outside the town, and dug a pit.

Using your sword as a shovel, the soil was very hard, and digging was difficult. Your body was now so exhausted that you were gasping for breath just from digging a pit, but you dug stroke by stroke, without stopping.

Once the pit was dug, you smoothed out the tiger pelt, folded it neatly, and placed it inside.

You covered it with soil, patted it firm, and picked up a stone in front of the grave to use as a tombstone. After thinking for a moment, you used the tip of your sword to carve two characters into the stone.

"Xiao Wang."

You stood in front of the grave for a long time.

The wind blew across the hillside, causing your gray hair to fly in disarray.

"Xiao Wang, let's meet again in the next life."

The voice was very soft and was scattered by the wind.

You turned and walked in the direction of Yunjin City.

You did not look back.

Outside the simulation.

Lin Shuangwan's eyes felt hot.

She blinked twice, forcing back that thin layer of mist.

But? Why does it feel a bit sad?

You returned to Yunjin City.

It has been over twenty years.

The city walls were still the same city walls, and the city gates were still the same city gates. But the guards standing at the city gate had changed their banners—they were no longer wearing the gray-blue uniforms of the Qing army, but black martial outfits embroidered with a black tiger.

You looked at that black tiger flag, and your footsteps paused for a moment.

Entering the city was not hindered; no one would pay attention to an elderly woman with gray hair.

Yongan Street was still there.

But your family's steamed bun shop was gone. In its original location, a grocery store had opened. The owner was a middle-aged man you didn't recognize. You stood at the entrance of the shop and watched for a while, and the middle-aged man waved at you: "Old lady, are you buying something? If you aren't buying anything, don't block the way."