Those are all too cliché.
Roaring bears are everywhere in tourist souvenir shops.
"Upright."
Su Wei stretched out one hand, gesturing to indicate a height.
"But don't roar. Keep your mouth closed, or slightly open, showing just a tiny bit of your teeth. Tilt your head down fifteen degrees, and look down."
Old Hope paused for a moment, then closed his eyes and sketched out a picture in his mind.
Upright, looking down, silent.
"The Silent Tyrant..."
Old Hope's Adam's apple bobbed, and a startling light flashed in his cloudy eyes.
"Good, good. That's the tune. Most young people these days like exaggerated movements and don't understand what wild tension is. Silent Fear is the most deadly."
He casually tore off a piece of parchment, grabbed a charcoal pencil, and with a few strokes sketched out the dynamic sketch described by Su Wei.
The lines are rough and hasty, but the fierce and repressive atmosphere leaps off the page.
"This job isn't cheap."
Old Hope put down his charcoal pencil, the fervor in his eyes fading slightly, replaced by the shrewdness of a businessman.
Five thousand US dollars?
Su Wei raised an eyebrow.
"Fifty thousand."
Old Hope snorted coldly.
"If it were anyone else, I'd charge 80,000, and they'd have to wait in line until next year. This 30,000 discount is for the bear, and also for the shot you took. 50,000, no bargaining."
Fifty thousand dollars.
But Su Wei didn't even blink.
"Make a deal."
Su Wei took out his phone and promptly transferred $20,000 as a deposit.
"I don't rush the production schedule. But I demand that every detail be perfect. I want to see its fingernails, its beard, even the tartar on its teeth."
"That's natural."
Upon receiving the transfer notification, Old Hope's mood visibly improved, and his tense old face relaxed.
He took a bottle of vodka from the freezer, which looked like it had been sitting there for ages, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig.
"Now that you've paid the deposit, you're practically family. Want to see how I'm going to handle this leather?"
Old Hope pointed to the workbench, a sly glint in his eyes.
"The key is removing the flesh and thinning it before tanning. This bear's fat layer is too thick; if it's not cleaned properly, oil will seep out later, ruining the entire hide. I don't usually let just anyone see it."
Su Wei put his phone in his pocket and looked at Old Hope with a smile.
That's exactly what I was thinking!
"However, before that, I have one more trophy that I need your help with. It's the antlers of a Roosevelt stag!"
"What?! You have such a good thing?!"
Old Hope's eyes gleamed. He hurriedly put down his vodka, took a few steps over, approached Su Wei, and spoke anxiously, his spittle almost splashing onto Su Wei's face.
"Slow down, don't rush. It's right there, in the car. Under that separate tarpaulin."
Su Wei took a few steps back without making a sound, casually raised his hand to cover his face, and then quickly wiped away any traces that might be on his face while Old Hope ran to the truck bed.
Fortunately, he retreated quickly enough.
Old Hope paid no heed to Su Wei's little tricks; he strained his old legs and rushed to the back of the black Raptor.
After searching for a while, he successfully found the small, but actually quite large, black bulge in the corner under the tarpaulin covering the bearskin.
He scooped it away, dumbfounded.
"My God! These are top-grade 7x7 antlers!"
Chapter 131 Only Madmen Understand Madmen, The Perfect Crown! Stealing a Master's Skill?
Old Hope's withered hands gripped Su Wei's forearm tightly, his nails almost digging into the flesh, the force was frightening.
Where did it come from?
Old Hope's voice cracked from shouting, and he spat all over Su Wei's face.
Before Su Wei could answer, he abruptly released his grip, turned around, and lunged at the pile of waterproof tarpaulins in the truck bed.
The movements were even more rough and urgent than when they were looking at the bear skin.
Su Wei calmly wiped his face, took half a step back, and made room for him.
Old Hope didn't even care about the icicles hanging from the edge of the truck bed; he half-lay down on it and wrapped his arms around the huge antlers.
The antlers were heavy and enormous, exuding a wild and untamed aura reminiscent of deep mountains and forests.
He gently tapped the main beam of the deer antlers with the back of the boning knife.
"Thump, thump, thump."
The voice was deep and resonant.
"7x7... Wait, there's a hidden spike here."
Old Hope's fingers found an inconspicuous little protrusion at the base, and he shuddered violently as if he had been electrocuted.
He pressed his face against it, rubbing his stubble-covered chin against the rough, calloused surface.
"Perfect... truly perfect."
He muttered to himself.
"The main beam's circumference exceeds eight inches; this is an old fellow that's at least ten years old. Look at the color, this deep brown patina—it's the result of it rubbing its horns against the tree day after day, allowing resin mixed with soil to seep in little by little."
Old Hope suddenly looked up and stared at Su Wei, his old face flushed red from blood rushing to his head.
"Kid, do you know what this means?"
Su Wei leaned against the car door, took out a lighter, and lit the half-smoked cigarette he hadn't finished earlier.
"That means it's valuable."
Money? Vulgar.
Old Hope spat angrily, his face full of disdain for the country bumpkin.
"If this were put at an auction, those bloated millionaires would break their bidding paddles over it. Eighty thousand? One hundred thousand? Those are just numbers. But the value of this crown lies in its symmetry and completeness."
He pointed to the two inward-curving top branches that formed a closed loop.
"See this? That's called a crown. You wouldn't find one like this in ten thousand Roosevelt elk. Most antlers are either broken off at the tip or grow crooked. To have managed to preserve its antlers so well in such a brutal struggle, this elk is definitely a clever bastard."
After Old Hope finished speaking, without Su Wei's help at all, he used his arms to lift the skull-and-antler set, weighing several dozen pounds, with a loud roar.
He walked with a faltering gait, yet quickly, heading straight for the studio.
Su Wei followed behind, watching the old man's hunched yet powerful back, and stubbed out his cigarette butt.
The studio's operating lights came on again, focusing all the light on the antlers.
Old Hope took out a soft-bristled brush and carefully cleaned the dried bloodstains remaining in the crevices of the skull.
"The skull was removed very cleanly."
Old Hope held a small scalpel in his hand and picked out a strand of tendon attached to the orbital bone.
He glanced at Su Wei sideways.
"You did this?"
Su Wei approached the control panel and stared at Old Hope's technique.
" Black commanded, I brought the knife down."
No wonder.
Old Hope snorted coldly, seemingly disliking the name Black, but his hands didn't stop moving.
"That old man may not be the best person, but he's got a steady hand. The skull didn't break the periosteum, which saved me a lot of trouble. If those idiots who only know how to use chainsaws to cut it open had done it, this horn would have been ruined."
He took a bottle of medicine with a pungent smell from the cabinet, dipped a cotton ball in it, and carefully wiped the tips of the antlers.
The originally somewhat dull corner tips, after being soaked in the medicine, instantly shone with a jade-like luster.
Su Wei stood to the side, his gaze never leaving Old Hope's hand.
That old man moved too fast.
And it's extremely accurate.
Every cut, every wipe, is done perfectly, without wasting a single bit of effort.
Su Wei was making plans in his mind.