The old hunter urged him, "Little fellow, if you want to look, then hurry and look. By my reckoning, there is still more than half a shichen before the tiger returns to its den. When the time comes, I'll have to send this little tiger back to the tiger's den."
"Alright, Grandpa, put the tiger down and let me have a good look!" Wang Zhengfei made up his mind. "I want to paint a tiger!"
"Good, good! Child, you'll definitely become Pingxi City's great painter one day!" The old hunter finally relaxed upon hearing this. He set the little tiger down, then sat nearby and began puffing on his dry tobacco pipe.
The little tiger was much bigger than a cat, yet still a little smaller than a dog. Fluffy and adorable, it played with Wang Zhengfei for a while before Wang Zhengfei took out his charcoal pencil and began drawing. The little tiger circled around Wang Zhengfei, while the old hunter watched from the side with a smile.
Wang Zhengfei's painting skills were indeed remarkable. In only a short while, he had finished the drawing. Yet on that rough paper, the little tiger's guileless charm leaped vividly from the page. Where was the imposing might of a full-grown ferocious tiger?
Looking at the tiger painting, Wang Zhengfei felt like crying.
"Child, isn't it painted very well?" The old hunter did not know the reason and asked with a smile, "Why are you unhappy?"
Wang Zhengfei bit his lip, his little face as gloomy as the shadows after dusk. Then he cautiously said to the old hunter, "Grandpa, can you tell me where the tiger's den is? I truly only want to take a look..."
Before Wang Zhengfei could finish, the old hunter's expression changed slightly. He stood up and