Chapter 22: No Fierce Tigers in the Mountains (Part 1): A New Bite Mark on the Collarbone Part 2

After the recitation from the other end, Mu Qian Tan acknowledged with a hum and said to Shang Shan, who was squatting nearby digging an ant hole, “Go find some sturdy branches about wrist-thick, and some flexible bark or thin vines will do too.”

Shang Shan patted her butt and stood. “What are you gonna do?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Less questions, just do it.”

“Oh.” Shang Shan rolled up her sleeves and added, “Not coming with me? Two people working won’t be tiring.”

Mu Qian Tan gave her a sidelong glance. “You working alone means I’m even less tired.”

Shang Shan pouted. “Why should I listen to you?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Because I’m your master.”

Shang Shan said, “I think you’re an old landlord.”

“Nope,” Mu Qian Tan chuckled lightly. “I won’t give you a single copper coin.”

Shang Shan said, “Fine, you’re even more landlord than a landlord!”

“Stop talking nonsense. Go quickly.”

Her master’s words were like an inescapable heavenly decree. Shang Shan grumbled as she ran off into the distance.

Mu Qian Tan stood in place for a bit before walking to the small pool ahead and lightly lifting her skirt to sit on a large boulder.

Deep in the dense forest, the night had worn away. This woman in an ice-blue dress sat quietly by the spring, elegant and ethereal. If an unknowing passerby saw her, they might think a forest fairy had appeared in the mortal world, graceful and light.

She waited silently like this for a while, but the Brain-Damaged Dragon still hadn’t returned. Mu Qian Tan lifted her foot onto the rock too and reached down to rub her ankle. Cool air wafted up from below as her gaze drifted blankly over the water surface.

They had walked in the mountains for three days, all on soft paths covered in fallen leaves, but it still counted as long-distance travel. After all that, Shang Shan was still bouncing around full of energy, unaffected. But her own heel had chafed raw—it hurt even to touch.

She really couldn’t compare to others’ thick skin and tough flesh.

Mu Qian Tan felt dissatisfied inwardly and silently cursed that Some Dragon.

A flash of color caught the edge of her vision, and she refocused her gaze. She took down the Solitary Goose from her back, aimed it at the corner of the small pool, and after lining up her shot, the arrow shot out. It struck a plump orange fish squarely, yielding a bountiful catch.

This small pool hid beneath a steep slope, something the two of them had stumbled upon while passing by. The water was clear and crisp, perfect for replenishing their supply. They hadn’t expected fish inside, which would make for excellent rations.

In her previous life, even with ample conditions, Mu Qian Tan’s cooking skills had never developed. Now, without those convenient kitchen tools, her abilities plummeted even further, approaching zero. As for handling ingredients, she could only manage the basics: kill it, wash it clean, remove the inedible parts, and toss it into a pan to fry.

This time, she stuck to her old method. After all, it was food going into her mouth, so she handled it with extra care. One hand pressed down on the still-twitching fish flesh even after death, while the other scraped off the scales in reverse with a dagger. Scales the size of half a fingernail flew everywhere, scattering white flecks across the ground.

When the dagger finally reached the tail and she saw the patches of shed scales on the ground, Mu Qian Tan felt a strong sense of accomplishment. But as she inspected her work, she realized large patches of scales remained on the fish, and the smaller ones near the edges clung stubbornly. Her processing job was far from clean.

“Tch.” Mu Qian Tan had no desire to eat something with a mouth full of fishy smell. As she pondered her next cut, a shadow fell over her.

She looked up and saw a pair of feet in grass shoes standing before her. The owner seemed to have released her hugged arms, and a pile of dry firewood and bark came tumbling down from above.

Then, the girl squatted down, took the dagger and fish from her hands, and began processing them with natural ease.

In their hands, the knife felt like entirely different tools. The blade tip seemed oiled, gliding smoothly to shave off every scale, sever the tail and head, and squeeze out the guts. She split open the body, washed the insides clean, lit a fire to grill the fish, and completed the entire process in an incredibly short time.

By the time Mu Qian Tan reacted, a strip of grilled fish, scorched to fragrant perfection, was held up before her.

She looked past the fish to the girl, who seemed to be swallowing hard. “We split it one half each, okay?”

“….” She couldn’t pinpoint what rubbed her the wrong way, but it did. Mu Qian Tan took the fish but showed no intention of sharing half. Instead, she began nibbling at it herself.

Shang Shan stood there waiting for a moment. Realizing the woman intended to hog it all, she gaped in shock. “I grilled this!”

Mu Qian Tan said, “I didn’t ask you to handle it. You snatched it away. After robbing me, you still demand a share? Have some shame?”

“Wait,” Shang Shan clutched her head with both hands. “I didn’t snatch it! And I was helping you, wasn’t I?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “If you want to eat, catch your own.”

“I, I…” She stammered several “I”s, stunned with anger and hopping mad, but she quickly calmed down. She knew she couldn’t outtalk this unreasonable woman or beat her in a fight. It wasn’t worth making a fuss over something so small. With a heavy huff, she said, “Fine, I’ll catch my own. Mine will taste even better.”

She rolled up her clothes and jumped into the pool to grope for fish. Mu Qian Tan ate her fish while watching the movements. Li Biyuan said, ‘Sister Tan, aren’t we basically bullying a kid here?’

Mu Qian Tan said, ‘I’m the Vicious Female Supporting Character, after all, aren’t I?’

‘That doesn’t mean you have to act it out so meticulously…’

The pool was deeper than imagined. After Shang Shan jumped in, the water reached her waist, icy cold and piercing. She shivered and gasped while stretching her hands to feel around underwater. Fortunately, the pool wasn’t wide, leaving the fish nowhere to flee. With their bright colors, she soon caught one even plumper than the last.

“Ha!” Shang Shan gripped the fish with both hands, beaming smugly. “I’m better than you~”

Mu Qian Tan said flatly, “I won’t help you kill it.”

The pride vanished from Shang Shan’s face. She muttered about why it had to be like this, then scrambled out of the water and offered the fish to the woman, lips pursed in silence.

Mu Qian Tan ignored it. “The slaughter lessons hadn’t stopped before you came over? Perfect timing to continue. I’ll give you some special one-on-one training. Come on, start with this one fish. Dagger’s on the ground. Kill it.”

The fish was still clutched in Shang Shan’s hand—a would-be feast turned hot potato. She took a small step forward, saw the uncompromising look on the woman’s face, and finally gave up.

But her stomach rumbled with hunger. Shang Shan set the fish on the ground and hugged her knees, watching it struggle in hopes it would suffocate itself. Mu Qian Tan said, “You might as well give it a quick end. It’s going to die anyway. Does it matter who kills it? What are you so hung up on?”

Bubbles foamed from the fish’s mouth, and its spasms grew more frequent. Shang Shan looked conflicted. “It will die, but not by my hand.”

After a long moment, perhaps unable to watch any longer or force herself to act, she released the fish back into the pool. Watching the splash of orange vanish into the depths, she grumbled at someone, “You’re so annoying. You made me miss out on fish. I hate you. I don’t want you teaching me anymore.”

Plop. Something landed by her feet. She looked down—it was half a grilled fish.

Before she could feel happy, an ice-white boot stomped down on the half fish, twisting the toe back and forth to grind it into the dirt. Shang Shan only caught a glimpse of the silver patterns and faint glow on the boot before the light shifted, leaving nothing but shattered flesh studded with pebbles, dust, and mud.

“Didn’t you say you’d eat it even if it’s dirty?” Mu Qian Tan looked down at her. “Go on, one half each. Don’t stand on ceremony.”

Last time with the fried dough stick, she’d thrown and stomped it herself before picking it up to eat—no issue. But now, this grilled fish was deliberately ruined by someone else, and in a deeply insulting way. Mu Qian Tan figured the kid would explode in rage and bite her, but Shang Shan just stared at the mess for a bit, rolled her eyes, and snapped, “Why not just give me your boot to eat too?”

She gathered every scrap of the ruined fish into her hands and stuffed piece after piece into her mouth. After days of bland dry rations, meat was more than enough to satisfy her.

Mu Qian Tan wasn’t sure whether to call Shang Shan big-hearted or tolerant. She turned to examine the materials the girl had brought. In the forest, vines and branches were as common as air, so she’d gathered plenty, giving options.

Mu Qian Tan selected suitable ones, twisted bark into rope, and assembled small animal traps.

Following Li Biyuan’s guidance, she made them smoothly. The sun gradually sank behind the western cliffs, leaving only firelight around them.

She wanted to move to a brighter spot. As she casually glanced up, she saw Shang Shan had finished the fish and was crunching on the bones.

Firelight illuminated the girl’s entire face: full cheeks, a clear flowing jawline, high straight nose, and lashes like two flickering black feather fans veiling her sparkling dark pupils.

Logically, it wasn’t Mu Qian Tan’s first time seeing her, so she shouldn’t feel like this was the first clear look at her features. Yet the sensation was real.

After pondering, she pinpointed the reason. The kid had tied up her hair.

Every previous encounter, this Cheeky Dragon sported a wild mop of thick black curly hair. With her whirlwind movements like a mad rabbit, it often stuck to her face. Add in the occasional mask, and though they’d spent time together, Mu Qian Tan had never seen her face so completely as now.

Noticing the gaze, Shang Shan, who had been licking her lips after the bones, turned. “What’s up?”

Mu Qian Tan asked, “You tied your hair up?”

“Yeah.” She twirled a few curls around her finger. “Climbing trees was inconvenient, so I tied it.”

She flicked her ponytail—a loose bundle of wavy curls swaying precariously, on the verge of collapse. Mu Qian Tan looked away. “You can’t even tie hair properly.”

Shang Shan said, “I’ve never done it before.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Don’t bother in the future. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Doesn’t suit me?” she echoed softly. Leaving the fire, Shang Shan squatted in front of her. “What are you making?”

They’d just had that unpleasantness, but after eating, she forgot it all and cozied up like nothing happened. Mu Qian Tan inwardly mocked her thick nerves and replied, “Traps.”

Shang Shan said, “Got it. For catching demons? You can make these too?”

“Mm.” Mu Qian Tan finished twisting the bark and began assembling.

The first was unfamiliar, but she grew handier with each. In the end, she produced seven or eight finished products. Infused with spiritual power, they would only trigger upon detecting a demon, avoiding waste on ordinary animals.

Shang Shan watched the whole process and couldn’t help clapping. “You’re so smart! Next time, I’ll use this method to catch rats.”

Mu Qian Tan glanced at her. “There are no rats in Azure Palace.”

She stood, picked up several traps, and set them at spots where she’d spotted small animal tracks during the day. Then she returned to the poolside.

After resting overnight, Mu Qian Tan woke at dawn, tidied up, and pushed through the thin mist and chill air to check yesterday’s traps. Luck wasn’t great—the first three were empty, but the fourth held a rabbit.

Shang Shan had still been groggy, but at the sight of that white blur, she perked up. “We caught one! We really caught one!”