Volume One: At the Foot of Mount Zhongnan Chapter Three: Clash of Bear and Tiger

Days passed in this manner—eating until full and then sleeping, sleeping until sated and then eating again. More than ten days slipped by in such a routine, and whether it was due to Li Ming’s strong constitution or the extraordinary nourishment of the tiger’s milk, his growth was astonishing. After a dozen days, he could already crawl about the cave.

Life as an infant was monotonous and dull. The cave offered no scenery to gaze at, and Li Ming’s only entertainment each day was wrestling and playing with the young beast. The cub, having been well-trained by Li Ming, was completely obedient. Each time the tigress fed them, the cub would wait until Li Ming had drunk his fill before daring to nurse. When Li Ming slept, the cub would snuggle close by his side; when Li Ming crawled about the cave, the cub followed him like a faithful puppy, never leaving his side.

Li Ming tried to communicate with the tigress and the cub, but his infant voice box was not yet fully developed. The words he wanted to say in his mind came out as nothing more than unintelligible babble, sounds that neither tiger nor human could comprehend.

A few more days passed, and the cold wind howled outside the cave. The weather grew increasingly frigid, but the cave shielded them from the wind, and thick layers of dry grass and animal pelts lined the floor. At night, he had the cub and tigress pressed close for warmth, so the cold was bearable.

One day, Li Ming awoke from hunger to find the tigress absent from the cave. The young cub was already awake but dared not disturb him, so it played quietly to the side. Every two or three days, the tigress would leave to hunt. Her skills were formidable—sometimes she returned with a wild boar, deer, or goat; at the very least, a rabbit or a pheasant to stave off hunger.

Li Ming played with the cub for a while, but hunger soon sapped his energy and interest. The temperature in the cave dropped ever lower, and Li Ming sneezed several times in a row. He and the cub huddled together in the grass pile for warmth, eyes fixed longingly on the cave entrance, awaiting the tigress’s return.

It wasn’t until nightfall that the tigress finally returned, her fur dusted with thick snow, but she brought no prey with her. Li Ming had never seen her come back empty-handed before. Only then, seeing the snow, did he realize winter had truly arrived—heavy snows sealed the mountain, making hunting nearly impossible. After feeding Li Ming and the cub, the tigress quickly turned and braved the cold once more in search of food.

Four or five days passed in this way—the tigress returned each time with nothing. Her belly was empty, and her milk grew increasingly thin. Yet, no matter how hungry she became, every day she returned without fail to feed them. Li Ming understood that with cubs in the cave, the tigress dared not venture too far to hunt. But with the mountains sealed in snow, all prey either hid away or migrated to warmer climes, so she found nothing day after day.

Then, one day, the tigress limped into the cave with a wild rabbit clamped in her jaws. Sharp-eyed, Li Ming noticed a bloody wound on her hind leg, so painful she dared not put weight on it. The wound was deep, exposing bone—a sight that made even a beast wince in agony. The tigress lay down and licked the injury with her rough tongue, which had some power to disinfect and staunch bleeding. After a few licks, the blood soon ceased to flow.

She quickly devoured the rabbit, then prepared to feed Li Ming and the cub. Suddenly, a thunderous roar boomed at the cave entrance. In the next instant, a hulking bear man burst inside!

The creature was covered in shaggy, gray-yellow fur, its body marked by countless scars—some fresh and still bleeding, some already scabbed and matted with fur, giving it a wild and fearsome look.

The bear man entered the cave and stood upright, towering to more than ten feet, nearly brushing the cave ceiling. He swung two massive, fan-like paws, each tipped with claws four or five inches long, gleaming coldly like ten steel hooks.

Winter was the season for bears to hibernate. Sated and fattened, they would find a hollow tree or cave and sleep through the cold until spring returned. For a bear to be prowling in such bitter weather meant only one thing: it had failed to store enough fat in autumn and could not endure the long winter. Driven by hunger and the bite of cold, it was now crazed and violent—most dangerous of all!

The reason the tigress had gone so many days without a successful hunt, expending her strength daily to feed her young, was now clear. Today, she had finally caught a rabbit and was about to eat when, out of the brush, this bear man had caught scent of blood and come to steal her meal!

Tiger and bear were both apex predators of the wild. Though the bear’s fangs and claws were deadly and its strength immense, the tigress did not fear it. Bears were slow and clumsy—if she wished to escape, a bear could not threaten her. Normally, when these two met, they would intimidate and posture before each went their separate ways. Neither wished to risk serious injury in a fight, for even a slight wound could mean death in the harsh wilds.

But today was different. The bear was half-mad with hunger, unable to sleep, restless and irritable—a beast at its most dangerous. The tigress, too, was desperate; with cubs in need of milk, she needed food to sustain her strength.

Neither would yield, and a fierce battle erupted! The tigress sprang with her hind legs, lightning-quick, slashing the bear’s chest with her claws and leaving ten deep gashes. The bear’s hide was thick—it scarcely noticed. Roaring in fury, it swung a massive paw, but the tigress dodged nimbly each time, leaping away unscathed.

Round after round, the tigress circled the bear, striking and biting, always retreating before she could be caught. Each exchange left the bear with new wounds. Enraged by its injuries, the bear’s attacks grew more violent, and its paws narrowly missed the tigress again and again.

The tigress’s usual hunting tactic was to stalk close, then pounce and lock her jaws around her prey’s throat—a killing bite. But against the sheer size and strength of the bear, this would not work. She could not bring it down, and any attempt might allow the bear to seize her.

The bear’s power was terrifying—it could shatter tree trunks as thick as a man’s leg with a single blow. Its claws were like steel hooks; if it caught her, even a bull would be torn apart in its grip.

Several more rounds passed. The tigress, tiring from her constant leaping and evasion, lost some of her agility. A swipe from the bear’s paw struck her hind leg, sending her tumbling. With a pained cry, she scrambled to her feet, realized she could not overpower the bear, snatched up the rabbit, and fled.

The bear pursued relentlessly, unwilling to let her escape. But burdened by its massive size, it was easily outmaneuvered. The tigress soon vanished from sight, leaving the enraged bear behind.

The tigress circled back to the cave, but fate was cruel—the bear, following the scent of blood, tracked her down.

Now, with adversaries face to face, their hatred was palpable. The bear, seeing two helpless cubs behind the tigress, grew excited, swinging its paws and roaring in anticipation.

It is in a mother’s nature to protect her young. The tigress would not yield! She crouched low, forepaws spread and claws extended, hind legs coiled, her body arched and taut like a drawn bow. Her eyes were wide, ears pressed back, lips curled to reveal four dagger-like fangs. Her steel-whip tail lashed the ground, making sharp cracks, and a low growl rumbled from her throat. Step by step, she edged backward, shielding Li Ming and the cub behind her.

Fortune’s wheel had turned indeed! Out in the wild, the bear had been tormented by the tigress’s quick claws, unable to make use of its brute strength. Now, in the cramped space of the cave, the tigress could not use her agility and was forced to meet the bear head-on.

The bear swung its left paw to block the tigress, then struck out with the right, sending her crashing into the cave wall with a resounding thud. She rose and attacked again, but was swiftly knocked aside once more.

The bear cared nothing for her—it wanted the young behind her. Each time, it simply batted her away, hoping she would give up. The tigress’s claws tore the bear’s flesh, but its hide was too tough for real harm; given food and rest, it would heal in a matter of days.

Inside the echoing cave, the battle raged, each roar thunderous enough to shake dust from the stone. The young cub trembled in terror, burrowing into Li Ming’s arms.

Moved by the tigress’s desperate defense, Li Ming’s heart swelled with emotion. Though he was not of her kind, the tigress had treated him as her own from the start. Li Ming was a man of deep feeling; when shown genuine kindness, he would return it with his life, without regret.

He had seen the tigress endure hunger rather than leave her cubs, always returning to nurse them. Now, as she was beaten and bloodied, yet would not abandon them for her own safety, his heart ached to take her place. Bitterly, he cursed his infant body—if only he had his strength, he would fight at her side, even to death!

Now, the bear’s bloodshot eyes and slavering jaws were only five or six steps away.

Li Ming steeled himself, clutching tightly the sharp beast horn he’d found in the grass pile—his only “toy” for teething, shared with the cub. His only chance was to wait until the bear tried to eat him, then drive the horn into its eyes, to show this monster that he would not be crushed so easily! Otherwise, with his current strength, even a legendary blade could not pierce the bear’s hide.

The tigress, wounded again and again, saw the bear drawing ever closer to her young. With a heart-rending roar, she hurled herself forward, claws digging into the bear’s flesh, jaws locking onto its shoulder and refusing to let go. The bear, surprised by her ferocity, lost its footing and was brought down.

But the bear was no easy foe. Its claws hooked deep into the tigress, trying to tear her apart.

The two beasts rolled together, biting and slashing, the cave filled with dust and thunderous howls. The tigress, knowing the cave was to her disadvantage, dragged the bear with her as they tumbled outside.

Li Ming, seeing the two beasts roll out, grabbed the cub and crawled toward the entrance to watch. But his infant body was weak, and after much effort he was still short of the cave mouth. Outside, the tigress’s cries grew fainter, the bear’s roars ever more exultant. Anxious, Li Ming crawled faster.

Suddenly, a voice rang out from outside, clear and commanding: “Vile creature! I have been searching for you—so here you are!”