The weasel looked at Village Chief Xu like he was a scumbag who failed to understand its painstaking efforts. "Over the past few years, most of the people in your village who didn't believe in that thing have been dealt with. Your turn was coming soon, too. Once I realized that, I made a point of splashing chicken blood at your door every day when I killed chickens, so those things on patrol would steer clear."
Village Chief Xu was overwhelmed by mixed feelings. Looking at the badly beaten weasel, he even felt a little guilty. Just as he was about to put in a few words for it, the weasel continued, "After all, you raise the tastiest chickens for miles around. Their meat is firm, silky, and tender without being tough. However you cook them, they're heavenly... slurp."
As it spoke, the weasel lay on the ground, clear drool spilling from the corner of its mouth.
[Good lord, you greedy little guy. You really aren't holding back that drool.]
[This really shows how important it is to have a skill. Look, if it weren't for his superb chicken-raising skills, how could the village chief have survived to cluck another day?]
[Good point. Is it too late to learn how to raise chickens?]
Village Chief Xu hadn't expected it to think so highly of his chicken-raising skills. The praise left him a little dazed. "I... are my chickens really that tasty?"
If he'd known, he would have given up being village chief and opened a chicken farm instead!
"They're delicious however you cook them. Pan-fried, stir-fried, stewed, deep-fried-each has its own flavor." The weasel's eyes were full of longing for chicken.
But soon, it felt a burning, blazing gaze settle on it, so intense it almost set it alight.
The