The Entire Mountain Is My Hunting Ground

Even twenty years ago, the Northeast Tiger was a protected species.

But back in an era when people couldn’t even get enough to eat, the level of protection afforded to them was nothing like it was later.

Besides, with Huaxia’s technology at the time, things like drone surveillance and tranquilizer guns were pure fantasy.

So, to protect people’s lives and property, the fate of this Mountain King was a foregone conclusion.

But from the day that Tiger fell until Zhao Jun was reborn, not a single tiger had been killed in these mountains.

To be precise, no one ever saw a tiger again.

And the death of this Tiger gave rise to a mystery that would last for decades.

Who had fired the two shots that killed the Tiger?

Before the hunt, the higher-ups had made it clear: the four men involved would all receive rewards of cash and food tickets in equal amounts.

This eliminated any trouble over who got the credit.

Furthermore, once the Tiger was killed, its carcass would belong to the collective, not any individual.

This also prevented any squabbling over the spoils... er, the meat.

Most crucially, when asked about it later, not one of the four shooters admitted to firing the two shots that hit the Tiger.

Ballistics testing didn’t exist back then, and even if it did, it wouldn’t have been wasted on something like this.

The Tiger was dead. That was what mattered.

And just like that, twenty-two years had passed.

The incident slowly became a local legend, the number one topic of after-dinner conversation for everyone in the surrounding area.

This wasn’t the first time in twenty-two years that Li Dayong had asked Zhao Youcai about it. In the past, Zhao Youcai had always dodged the question. But today was different. As soon as Li Dayong asked, he could see something had changed in the older man.

Zhao Youcai mulled it over for a moment, then picked up the white porcelain mug in front of him and took a few large gulps of warm tea. GULP. GULP.

Putting the mug down, Zhao Youcai heaved a long sigh, shook his head, and uttered a name.

"Zhou Chengguo."

"So it was him..." Li Dayong’s eyes widened in understanding as he gave a heavy nod.

Zhao Youcai gave a wry smile. "He never said anything because he was above it. The three of us never said anything because we didn’t have the face to."

"Come on, what’s the big deal?" Li Dayong said, quickly trying to comfort Zhao Youcai when he saw the dejected look on his face. "Everyone misses a shot now and then. Besides, maybe Zhou Chengguo just got lucky?"

Zhao Youcai shook his head. "That day, Bao Jun and I were front and center. Han Shengli was on the left, and Zhou Chengguo was on the right. The Tiger..."

As he spoke, Zhao Youcai’s expression darkened, as if he’d recalled something incredible.

"It came down from the southern mountain, heading north, charging right for Bao Jun and me."

At this, Zhao Youcai paused again. He fell silent for more than ten seconds before he continued. "The four of us... none of us saw how that Tiger cleared the fence. In the blink of an eye, it was maybe... twenty meters from me and Bao Jun..."

"What?" Li Dayong exclaimed, cutting in. "Wait, weren’t you two posted up by Elder Niu’s cattle pen? That’s over a hundred meters from the fence, isn’t it?"

"Yeah," Zhao Youcai confirmed, his face a mask of disbelief. "That Tiger must have come in from the south. It passed right in front of Han Shengli and Zhou Chengguo, but they didn’t see a thing.

"By the time I reacted, I’d already let off two shots. When they heard the gunfire, Bao Jun and Shengli panicked. They just saw a blur as it turned back, and they each fired twice without even aiming."

As he said this, Zhao Youcai shook his head again and again. "Didn’t hit a thing."

Both Zhao Jun and Li Dayong knew they were at the most critical part of the story. They held their breath, not daring to interrupt.

Zhao Youcai continued, "I was trying to aim, but I couldn’t see the target at all—just a shadow against my Gun Star.

"Then I heard two shots—BANG! BANG! I could see the Tiger clearly then, but I still couldn’t get a clean shot."

"That was Brother Zhou shooting?" Zhao Jun asked.

"Yeah," Zhao Youcai nodded. "He was the only one who got off a clear shot—two of them. After he fired, the Tiger lunged another thirty meters and smashed head-first into the fence."

Li Dayong turned to Zhao Jun. "Knocked the whole iron fence down."

"No one fired a finishing shot?" Zhao Jun asked, looking at his father.

Zhao Youcai shook his head. "We were all terrified. After the shooting stopped, the four of us were drenched in cold sweat, our hands and feet tingling."

Hearing this, Zhao Jun and Li Dayong fell silent. As hunters themselves, they knew Zhao Youcai wasn’t exaggerating. It was nothing to be ashamed of.

It had been a matter of life and death. This was especially true for Zhao Youcai and Xue Baojun, who were directly in its path. Given the Tiger’s speed, if Zhao Youcai had spotted it just half a second later, one of them would have been a goner.

You could say it was Zhao Youcai’s two shots that alerted the other three men.

Crucially, his shots had scared the Tiger, making it turn and flee. That was what gave Zhou Chengguo the chance to shoot it.

With the old story finally told, Zhao Youcai seemed to feel a great weight lift from his shoulders. He said wistfully, "It was so fast. So incredibly fast. It happened in the blink of an eye. You couldn’t even track it."

"Dad," Zhao Jun asked, "did the whole thing last even three seconds?"

Zhao Youcai thought for a moment. "Not even. I opened fire the second I saw the Tiger. It turned to run, and my ears were ringing with one gunshot after another. By the time that Tiger hit the fence, it was maybe a count of two."

Zhao Jun was stunned. From the moment his father spotted the Tiger to the moment it hit the fence—a round trip of over two hundred meters—had taken only two seconds.

And for the last few dozen meters, it was in a near-death state from two gunshot wounds.

"No wonder," Li Dayong sighed. "That’s why they say you can’t use dogs to corner one of these things."

"You couldn’t corner it, not at all," Zhao Youcai said. "My father told me a story. Back when my grandfather was still alive, some official wanted a tiger pelt and hired a Cannon Shooter to take dogs into the mountains to surround one. The moment the dogs smelled its droppings, they wouldn’t dare move forward.

"The Cannon Shooter fired his gun to give the dogs some courage. They eventually managed to corner the Tiger with fire, but the dogs couldn’t contain it. Any dog that got close died instantly."

Zhao Jun asked, "So, did they get it?"

"Get it? Of course not!" Zhao Youcai laughed. "We had a tough time even with semi-automatics. Those guys were using Old Foreign Cannons. All you heard was BANG, BANG, but they never touched a single hair on it."

With that, the heavy atmosphere lifted, and the conversation turned lighthearted. Zhao Youcai and Li Dayong began reminiscing about their own hunting adventures from years past, with Zhao Jun listening quietly.

They chatted for over half an hour before Li Dayong decided it was getting late. Though he would have liked to stay longer, he said his goodbyes to Zhao Youcai and headed home.

Once Li Dayong had gone, Zhao Jun asked his father, "Dad, a Lynx isn’t easy to hunt either, is it?"

’I hunted one of those in my past life,’ Zhao Jun thought. ’And that was just a fluke, getting one lucky shot in.’

He guessed the Lynx was probably just as fast as a Tiger. ’His dad was making such a big deal about borrowing a gun; he must be trying to get back some of the pride he lost all those years ago.’

"We’ll give it a shot," Zhao Youcai said with a laugh. "If I can’t kill it, it’s not like it can do anything to me."