Landlord in the Arctic

Feng Mountain put away his rifle.

A full-grown male reindeer, including its organs and bones, could provide about 200 kilograms of meat. The four of them together totaled a full 800 kilograms, more than enough for the ten tigers to have a hearty meal.

On the Tundra, a world of ice and snow where food was hard to come by, there was no need to continue hunting. It would only cause unnecessary killing and disrupt the ecological balance.

’Survival is important, of course, but living in harmony with nature is the only way to last.’

Only after the herd of reindeer fled the slope like startled birds, disappearing into the vast, snowy wilderness, did Feng Mountain emerge from his hiding place.

He took a deep breath of the frigid, blood-tinged air and began to process the prey.

He walked over to the four reindeer and dragged them together one by one.

Considering the reindeer were meant to feed the tigers, and their blood would also provide rich nutrients, Feng Mountain didn’t bleed them.

In this extremely cold environment of minus 40 degrees, it didn’t take long for the reindeer carcasses to freeze solid, which actually made them easier to transport.

Feng Mountain then turned and returned to where he had hidden his vehicle, riding the snowmobile back.

Arriving next to the reindeer, he dragged the four carcasses onto the sled, then took out a rope he had prepared and carefully tied them securely to it.

Feng Mountain went back to ride the snowmobile over, dragged the four reindeer onto the sled, and tied them tightly with a rope.

Once everything was secure, he took out his satellite phone, turned on the GPS, and checked the coordinates on the screen to quickly find the location of their temporary camp.

He climbed onto the snowmobile and gunned the throttle.

The snowmobile let out a roar, and like a howling snow leopard, it raced down the snow-covered mountain.

Meanwhile, the temporary camp was already taking shape. The tent had been set up.

Nash knew the Tundra’s temperature would plummet at night, so to stay warm, he collected some dry willow branches from outside and brought them back to the tent.

Then he lit the stove, set a pot on it, and began to cook a fragrant soup of dried meat and vegetables.

The curling smoke from the cooking fire became the warmest comfort in the cold night.

Nash had also brought the parrot cage and Tu’Er into the tent.

After all, the Tundra was brutally cold at night. With the extreme temperatures, only the thick-skinned, naturally cold-resistant tigers could endure it.

The tigers were currently gathered around the tent, huddling together. Their massive bodies pressed close, drawing a sliver of warmth from one another.

Thanks to the snow wall, although it was still cold, it was much more bearable than having the bone-chilling wind blow directly on them.

Suddenly, in the silent, cold Tundra, the roar of an engine broke the tranquility of the night. A low HUM grew louder as it approached.

Hearing the noise, the Tiger Pack immediately grew alert. They stood up in unison, raising their heads, their eyes sharp as they stared uniformly in the direction of the sound.

Nash heard the commotion from inside the tent as well. He quickly unzipped the door and strode out.

’That sounds like a snowmobile,’ he thought. ’Out here in this remote and desolate part of the Tundra, if a snowmobile is showing up now, it’s almost certainly Khilla returning from his hunt.’

Before long, a blinding headlight, like a sharp sword, pierced the darkness and shone directly on the camp.

Amidst the howling wind, Feng Mountain’s powerful shout could be faintly heard.

"Everyone... out here... for meat!"

The voice seemed to hold a kind of magic. Like an arrow loosed from a bow, Tyson was the first to bolt from the camp.

The other tigers, not to be outdone, followed closely behind Tyson. In an instant, a cloud of snow kicked up by the running Tiger Pack filled the air.

Nash, squeezed in among the Tiger Pack, also made his way past the snow wall.

Feng Mountain laboriously dragged the four reindeer carcasses, frozen like blocks of ice, from the sled and tossed them onto the snow. He then stood to the side, a satisfied smile on his face.

Looking at the pack of tigers before him, their eyes practically glowing green with hunger, he pointed to the reindeer carcasses and warned loudly.

"Go on, eat. No snatching, no fighting!"

GRRRR!!

The Tiger Pack let out low growls as if in response to Feng Mountain, while quickly surrounding the reindeer carcasses.

After a long run and enduring the severe cold in this world of ice and snow, they were already so hungry their stomachs felt empty.

Now, smelling the food, their mouths watered uncontrollably. In the extreme cold, the drool nearly froze into translucent icicles.

After getting Feng Mountain’s permission, Tyson could no longer hold back.

With a push from his hind legs, his entire body pounced—a classic tiger strike—landing hard on the first reindeer carcass.

He opened his terrifying, cavernous mouth, revealing incredibly sharp fangs. He bit down on the fur of the reindeer’s abdomen and, shaking his head violently from side to side, began to tear.

RIIIP! The reindeer’s belly was torn open. Tyson seized the chance to bite out a large chunk of viscera, swallowing it in a few gulps without bothering to chew.

Seeing this, the other tigers abandoned all restraint. As if by some tacit agreement, they instinctively split up, three to a reindeer, lowered their heads, and began to eat with gusto.

For a moment, the air was filled with the mixed sounds of the Tiger Pack tearing and chewing.

Just as the tigers were feasting, a bright red hat suddenly appeared among them.

Its owner seemed afraid of being spotted, furtively hiding beside a tiger’s broad body in an attempt to evade notice.

"Tu’Er, what are you doing out here?"

Feng Mountain’s eyes were sharp; he spotted the little guy at once and shouted at the top of his lungs.

SQUAWK!!

Tu’Er, who had been completely lost in the temptation of the food, had just picked up half a deer intestine in his beak and was about to tilt his head back and swallow it. Feng Mountain’s shout made him jump.

He froze on the spot, caught in a dilemma—to eat or not to eat. His round eyes looked pitifully at Feng Mountain.

"Forget it, go ahead and eat!" Feng Mountain waved his hand in resignation and turned to walk toward the tent.

After just two steps, he seemed to remember something, turned back, and shouted, "But you’re not allowed in the tent after you finish those intestines! Go sleep outside."

SQUAWK! SQUAWK!

Hearing this, Tu’Er hastily shook his head in agreement.

Although he couldn’t go back into the warm tent, the delicious organs before him were simply irresistible. He was willing to endure the cold outside for them.

Immediately, Tu’Er eagerly gulped down the half-intestine and, still wanting more, opened and closed his beak.

He pushed open the tent flap.

A wave of warmth rushed out to greet him, instantly enveloping his entire body.

Feng Mountain let out a contented sigh and took off his heavy animal-hide coat.

Inside the tent, the stove fire was burning brightly. The dancing flames illuminated the space, dispelling the cold that seeped in from outside.

Nash was already waiting. Seeing Feng Mountain enter, he quickly handed him a steaming bowl of dried meat and vegetable soup.

Wisps of steam curled up from the soup’s surface, releasing an enticing aroma.

Feng Mountain took the bowl. He didn’t care that it was scalding hot and, embracing the warmth, began to slurp it down loudly.

The hot soup slid down his throat, warming him to his core and chasing away the last of the chill from his body.

Considering they had to get an early start tomorrow, every second had to be carefully managed on the desolate Tundra.

After dinner, the two of them wordlessly tidied up and prepared to rest.

Lying on simple sleeping pads and wrapped tightly in thick blankets, they soon fell asleep.

Outside the tent, the aurora danced fantastically in the night sky, its multicolored lights weaving wantonly through the darkness.

The wind was still biting, carrying flurries of snow that fell with a rustle. The entire Tundra was covered by the endless snowfall, falling silent.

The remains of the reindeer, left by the tigers, lay discarded outside the camp.

A thick, bloody smell permeated the air, yet on this icy Tundra, no other carnivores dared to venture forward and steal the scraps.

Perhaps the lingering scent of the tigers struck fear into the hearts of other animals, or perhaps the severe cold forced them to remain in hiding.

In any case, the camp maintained a kind of peaceful order for the cold night.

The night passed quietly.

Even though the Far North was mercilessly cloaked in the polar night, with all living things immersed in endless darkness, his biological clock, like a precise alarm, woke Feng Mountain punctually at 6:00 AM.

He slowly emerged from his sleeping bag, his bones and muscles still feeling somewhat drowsy.

Then, Feng Mountain let out a contented stretch. He pushed his arms forcefully upward, tilted his head back slightly, and let out a satisfied sigh.

By this time, Nash was already up and busy.

On the stove, a pot of dried meat and vegetable soup was bubbling away, steaming hot and giving off an enticing aroma that added a bit of warmth and life to the cold morning.

The two sat around the pot, enjoying the hot breakfast.

.....