The Field Mouse Tastes Quite Good

Chapter 9: Field Mouse Tastes Pretty Good

The sky was oppressively hot, like a giant steamer. Countless ants crawled out, and little sparrows flew low. Ants moving their nests, birds flying low. Ye Qin looked at the sky, at the few dark clouds drifting over from somewhere, and thought to himself, "Looks like it's going to rain."

He ate a few wild fruits to stave off hunger but didn't leave. Instead, he ambushed behind a rock. The rock was about the same color as him, a deep black, and the two almost blended together. If you didn't look carefully, you'd never find the little black snake here. The wild fruits on the ground were his best bait; sooner or later, some small herbivore would come by.

Ye Qin was extremely patient, like a qualified hunter. Perhaps it was biological instinct—he didn't move an inch, like a fossil. Even his forked red tongue only flickered occasionally, used to detect any trace of prey. The sun set in the west, and as the daylight gradually shifted, the entire sky was dyed orange. Layers of rolling clouds shrouded the lush green mountain peak, adding a special flavor to the scene.

He waited like this for most of the day, and during that time, Ye Qin didn't see any trace of other small animals. He wasn't discouraged either. If he returned empty-handed today, there was still tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the day after. At worst, he'd go further afield to try his luck. Although it was a bit dangerous, he would eventually find food.

Just as Ye Qin was about to head back, his pupils suddenly contracted. From a nearby clump of grass came a rustling sound. He could vaguely see gray fur, very noticeable against the green grass. It was a gray field mouse. A few whiskers probed the air, as if checking for danger, and then most of its body emerged.

The field mouse stood upright, its little nose twitching, then looked at the wild fruits not far away. Its limbs were short, but it was fast. Seeing no danger around, it relaxed. Its front paws stuffed a wild fruit directly into its mouth, its two front teeth soaked in the fruit's juice, then it swallowed the whole thing in one gulp. Its cheeks instantly puffed out.

The field mouse, enjoying its meal, didn't notice a pair of dark, beastly eyes in the shadows, watching its every move. Ye Qin approached carefully, making no sound, as if merging with the surrounding environment. His pupils were like pinpricks, locked firmly on the field mouse's position. His body was taut, coiled and ready to strike.

The field mouse seemed to sense something. Its whiskers twitched, and it stopped eating, but it was already too late. In the blink of an eye, Ye Qin shot out like an arrow from a bowstring, leaving only an afterimage in the air. His body quickly coiled around the field mouse.

"Squeak squeak squeak!"

The field mouse struggled desperately, but the snake's body only tightened more and more. Soon, its movements grew smaller and smaller until there was no sound. Only then did Ye Qin loosen his grip. Looking at the field mouse's corpse, he showed a satisfied expression. His first hunt had been quite successful. This field mouse was relatively small, and its claws and teeth posed no danger. Otherwise, Ye Qin couldn't have succeeded so quickly.

Next came the time to enjoy the spoils. Ye Qin had already mentally prepared himself, but even so, it wasn't easy to cross that hurdle all at once. He was a snake now, but in his past life, he'd been human for decades. He rarely even ate sashimi, let alone a field mouse. He took a deep breath, forced down his nausea, and slowly swallowed the field mouse whole.

Whether it was because his physiological structure had changed, or because of his snake nature, the field mouse wasn't as disgusting as he'd imagined. In fact, the meat was quite tender. There was even a saying among the common folk of Lingnan: "Eating one mouse is worth three chickens," describing how field mouse meat is more nutritious than chicken. Dried field mouse isn't just delicious; it's also high in protein.

After eating the field mouse, Ye Qin finally felt full. He lay contentedly on the grass to rest for a while, and by the last rays of sunlight, he returned to the cave before the sun had completely set. Perhaps because he'd replenished his energy, he dug the hole faster than usual today, and for longer. The small hole, previously only as wide as a thumb, had now, under Ye Qin's efforts, grown to the size of two fists.

At the same time, the charred black scales on Ye Qin's tail had completely fallen off, replaced by new green snake scales. Whether it was his imagination or not, Ye Qin felt that his body had grown much longer. He'd noticed it during the hunt today—he'd only coiled halfway around the field mouse before his body had completely wrapped it up.

After a full meal, Ye Qin headed back and continued to stay in the cave. Aside from the time he spent hunting, he devoted most of his time to visualization. Apart from hibernation, snakes normally sleep very little, so it didn't matter if Ye Qin spent the whole day visualizing and cultivating. Not only did he not get tired, he actually felt refreshed and clear-headed. Most importantly, he could feel his strength constantly increasing. The once hideous and terrifying wounds were now just scars. All these changes came from cultivation.

"Boom!"

A dull rumble came from outside the cave, pulling Ye Qin's thoughts back to reality. A clap of thunder fell from midair, illuminating the dim cave with purple light. "Thunder," Ye Qin murmured to himself. Hearing the rolling thunder outside, he felt a little uncomfortable. Probably affected by this snake body, he strongly disliked this kind of thunderstorm weather—hated it, even. After all, when he'd crossed over, he'd almost been struck dead by lightning. His wounds still hadn't healed. If not for cultivation, he would have long since become a dead soul. No wonder he reacted this way.

The thunder rumbled without pause, and Ye Qin grew somewhat irritable, the tip of his tail incessantly poking at the ground, but he accidentally struck a half-broken branch beside him.

The branch was several times thicker than his tail, yet with a sharp crack, it snapped cleanly in two.

Ye Qin stared at his tail in disbelief; he hadn't used much force at all, and he simply assumed the branch's core had rotted away, brittle as paper, so he didn't dwell on it.

Beyond the thunder, the wind howled without end, filtering in through the cave.

Though Ye Qin hadn't stepped out to see the scene outside, he could well imagine it—a fierce gale raging.

With such a grand commotion, a heavy storm was surely on its way.

Ye Qin couldn't help but feel grateful once more that he had found such a good shelter from the wind and rain. If he were out in the wild now, with his small frame, he'd probably be blown straight into the sky.

Aside from natural predators, animals also had to guard against harsh weather and environments—that was the cruelty of nature. One misstep, and they could perish.

With a cave like this, at least he had a place to settle. Unless an earthquake struck, Ye Qin had nothing to worry about.

By the dead of night, the relentless patter of raindrops made it impossible for Ye Qin to focus his mind or sink into visualization, so he simply coiled his body into a ball and rested.

End of this chapter