Chapter 487 405: A Beast's Rampage, a Black Tiger's Roar

"COUGH, COUGH…" Zhu Dashan's chin was raised as he coughed violently. Zhu Jiang dutifully patted him on the back.

But Zhu Dashan raised a hand, gestured toward the outer room, and said, "Hurry, go take a look."

The grandfather and grandson scrambled off the kang bed and went into the outer room, only to see Wang Juan standing dazedly by the door.

Zhu Dashan went to the door and looked out. He saw Black Tiger, who was supposed to be tied up in the storage shed. The dog had somehow broken free and was now lying in the middle of the yard.

Pinned between its two front paws was a hen.

The hen's throat had been bitten through, and blood was slowly trickling from the wound on its neck.

"Son of a..." The furious Zhu Jiang pushed past Zhu Dashan and Wang Juan. But the moment he charged out the door, he stopped short. He glanced left and right, then took two steps back to grab a shovel leaning in the corner before rushing straight at Black Tiger to beat it.

Seeing this, Zhu Dashan and Wang Juan didn't stop him. It wasn't that they wanted Zhu Jiang to beat Black Tiger to death, but a dog this infuriating deserved a sound thrashing to vent their anger.

But before Zhu Jiang could even get close, Black Tiger shot up from the ground and darted away with a WHOOSH.

Zhu Jiang gave chase, shovel held high, but two legs were no match for four. Even if one of Black Tiger's legs was a little lame, he still had more legs than Zhu Jiang.

Besides, the dog was incredibly fast. Its plump body showed no signs of clumsiness. Seeing that Zhu Jiang couldn't catch up, Zhu Dashan grabbed the large broom for sweeping the yard and joined him in cornering Black Tiger.

In an instant, the small yard erupted into chaos.

The Zhu Family originally kept four adult chickens: one rooster and three hens. In the spring, they had collected the eggs and hatched seventeen chicks.

Just now, Black Tiger had lunged and killed one of the hens. The other three adult chickens were terrified. Some flew onto the top of the wall, others scrambled over the fencing. All that remained was a flock of little chicks, huddled in a corner of the house.

This corner was walled on two sides, with the other two blocked by wooden planks. Inside were fresh water and ground cornmeal.

This was a special treatment only for the chicks; the adult chickens had to forage for insects and grass seeds in the fields.

Black Tiger had no interest in these little things. A single one didn't have even a few ounces of meat on it—not enough to get stuck in his teeth.

But now, cornered by Zhu Dashan and Zhu Jiang, Black Tiger could only run along the edges of the yard. As he ran, his large, fat body knocked over the planks penning in the chicks.

A chaotic flurry of chirps erupted as the planks fell, crushing three chicks. The rest of the chicks scrambled over the fallen planks and scattered through the gap.

Zhu Dashan, running in pursuit, couldn't stop in time and stepped right on a chick. The poor thing was squashed so hard its droppings squeezed out. It died without even letting out a final, mournful peep.

Zhu Dashan and Zhu Jiang both broke into furious curses, chasing Black Tiger like madmen. Their frenzy only terrified the thirteen chicks that had escaped the pen. The chicks flapped their newly feathered wings, scurrying and dodging wildly around the yard.

Black Tiger dodged a swing of Zhu Jiang's shovel, but then saw Zhu Dashan charging viciously at him. Seeing his path blocked, Black Tiger squeezed into a nearby gap.

The gap was about three handspans wide, with the wall on one side and two sawhorses placed side-by-side on the other. Resting on the sawhorses were three large winnowing baskets filled with drying potato slices.

Dried potato slices are a specialty of the Northeast countryside. You boil potatoes, peel them, cut them into slices, and then lay them out one by one under the sun to dry.

You can add some dried potato slices to any meat stew. They soak up the broth and have a delightfully chewy texture, which is beloved by Northeasterners.

They're just a bit of a hassle to make, with all the peeling and slicing. But all three generations of the Zhu Family loved the taste, so Wang Juan didn't mind the trouble.

To dry vegetables, you have to wait until after the Start of Autumn, when the air is crisp and clear. Otherwise, in the muggy weather before then, the boiled potatoes would just get moldy in the sun.

And so, today being the first day of the Start of Autumn, Wang Juan had gotten up early to boil, peel, and slice the potatoes. She had been busy right up until Zhu Dashan got home, just managing to lay the slices out to dry. She figured she could get a batch done in two days with the sunny weather.

But as Black Tiger squeezed through the gap between the sawhorses and the wall, his big, fat body knocked over the sawhorses, which in turn upended the baskets of potato slices.

The potato slices weren't fully dry yet. They were still damp, and as they fell and rolled in the dirt, the golden-yellow slices were instantly covered in soil.

Once the thin, cooked potato slices were covered in dirt, it was impossible to wash them. They would just disintegrate.

Seeing the utter chaos in the yard—chickens scattering and the dog running wild—Wang Juan screamed at the top of her lungs, "Stop chasing him! Stop chasing him!"

Wang Juan's drawn-out, hoarse shouts finally stopped the grandfather and grandson in their tracks.

The two of them turned to look at Wang Juan, only to see her plop down on the doorstep, her face crumpling as she began to cry.

'She was just so furious!'

A Black Bear had been getting into their family's cornfield and ruining the crops for the past few days, so Wang Juan was already in a bad mood. Today, when Zhu Dashan came back with a hunting dog he'd borrowed from Zhao Jun's family, she had finally felt a glimmer of hope.

But the scene unfolding before her eyes was just too much for her to bear.

'What is all this!'

The potato slices she'd worked so hard on all morning were ruined. The family's egg-laying hen was dead. And several of the chicks they were raising to sell in the winter, once the snow fell, were also dead.

Seeing Wang Juan cry, Zhu Dashan and Zhu Jiang looked at the wreckage in the yard. They wanted to cry but had no tears left, and their hatred for Black Tiger intensified.

The grandfather and grandson started gathering the chicks and cleaning the yard. But no matter what they did, they worked one-handed. In the other hand, they held their weapons, their eyes fixed on Black Tiger, just waiting for the moment he let his guard down so they could land a blow.

But Black Tiger was far too clever for that. He kept pacing around the yard, always staying well out of the duo's reach.