Dry-Roasted Tiger Meat, Eating to His Heart's Content

At the village entrance stood a massive boulder, roughly twenty feet tall, carved with the words "Black River Village" in strokes that danced like dragons and phoenixes—nothing like what belonged in a rural wilderness.

"Uncle Fu."

"We're back!"

A burly man drew in his breath and shouted.

Before long, an old man pushed open a door and emerged. One glance in this direction made his soul tremble from fright, and he called into the village, "Quick, quick, grab your weapons! A man-eater has come!"

A burst of commotion followed.

Several dozen men appeared, clutching iron rakes, wooden clubs, and iron nets. Their faces tense, they gathered together and headed this way.

Only when they drew close did they see clearly that it was no man-eater at all, but a youth carrying a tiger on his shoulder.

"A courtyard guard..."

"The Madam sent another courtyard guard!"

Uncle Fu was overjoyed, and the villagers all cheered.

This Uncle Fu was named Fu Changshou. He was the village chief of Black River Village, seventy-seven years old this year—a true long-lived elder.

Upon their first meeting, they exchanged names and briefly handled the formalities. Fu Changshou said, "Master Guard, come with me. I'll arrange lodging for you."

They set off along a country path, where the snow on the ground had been cleared away. After walking for a while, Fu Changshou asked curiously, "Isn't it tiring, carrying such a huge tiger? Shall I have someone carry it for you?"

"No need." Li Xian gave a forceful leap and still rose half a foot off the ground. "It's not exactly easy, but it isn't tiring either. Just lead the way."

"My goodness, Master, you're far more formidable than the previous few." Fu Changshou's face was full of fawning smiles.

The village had around a hundred