Chapter 70: Walking on Eaves and Scaling Walls

The first to appear were photographs of wild boars—a herd passing by, then a single boar fleeing with several piglets. These scenes were nothing remarkable in themselves. But soon, a string of images featured a man. Both the wild boar and the man appeared together, clashing twice; the boar’s eye was gouged out, then it was beaten to death with several punches.

Though the photos lacked context, in the minds of the two viewers, the sequence was vivid, as if the entire story played out before their eyes. In the latter half of the photos, a clouded leopard began to appear, but their gaze remained unconsciously drawn to the man. Even as he treated the leopard as one might a housecat, and eventually departed, neither shifted their attention back to the coveted creature. Instead, they scanned the remaining photos, hoping for the man’s return.

Alas, after the leopard returned to gnaw on some adult wild boar meat, there was nothing further.

“Teacher, there’s no black bear…”

The young student seemed to focus on something different, repeatedly flipping through the pictures before blurting out his observation.

“?”

The mentor glanced at the student, his mouth twitching, choosing not to comment. These post-2000s—sometimes one simply didn’t know how to judge them. Was the absence of a black bear really the main point? Should it not have been the man… no, surely the clouded leopard?

“This guy is really fierce—killed a grown wild boar with a few punches. If he swapped wild boars for people, he could probably buy whatever car he likes.”

The student’s mind finally returned to normal, though without much emotion. The photos, despite their visual impact, failed to convey the true sensation.

“All right, keep the latter photos of the leopard. Hand me the memory card—I’ll report this to the police. This isn't our concern.”

The mentor spoke no further, for only those who had spent years studying wildlife and working on the frontlines understood how terrifying it was for someone to beat a grown wild boar to death with bare fists.

Yet when he sent the photos to the authorities, the response was simply: “Thank you for your feedback. The man neither consumed nor sold the wild boar meat, nor did he use illegal tools…”

A torrent of words, but the meaning was clear: if pursued, at most, the man in the photos would be fined.

The mentor received the reply, unsure what to say. After some thought, he let the matter rest. The world is vast—an individual with remarkable skill is hardly unusual. He refocused on observing and protecting the clouded leopard.

In truth, the authorities did not dismiss the photos he submitted. They investigated Du Ruo’s background and found he had no criminal record, always behaved well, and so, after marking him internally as a special case, they paid him no further mind.

They were not the forestry department and would not turn up to fine Du Ruo over this. Their special annotation was not a measure of danger—only criminal suspects received such ratings. Du Ruo was simply tagged as a person of special talent, akin to a locksmith expert. If any unusual cases arose, Du Ruo would immediately enter their field of vision.

Du Ruo knew nothing of these matters. He continued with his daily routine—eating, drinking, and, after a satisfying meal, went to speak with Yang Ling. He wandered the guesthouse, checking for minor issues that needed attention, such as replacing bulbs or unclogging toilets.

Whatever he could fix himself, he did; anything beyond his skill, he called a professional. As a guesthouse, with people coming and going, such mundane tasks were frequent and time-consuming. Usually, an afternoon would slip away unnoticed.

In the evening, while the sun still hung above the horizon, Du Ruo stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at the beef in the refrigerator.

“Really don’t feel like stewing beef again. I just had beef hotpot this morning. Stir-fried beef? No, I can’t stir-fry such a large portion—and I’m not good at it. Braised, then; I’ll braise it and eat over the next couple days.”

Once, Du Ruo’s daily struggle was deciding what to eat. Now, ever since he needed to consume large amounts of beef, his headache was how to prepare it. Settling on braised beef, he finally began.

Braised beef was not complicated, at least not for Du Ruo—it wasn’t much different from stewing. Control of heat wasn’t critical, the initial steps were similar; only the ingredients and process varied somewhat.

“Braised beef needs to soak overnight, so what do I eat now?”

After an hour of work, Du Ruo gazed at a pot full of beef, sinking into thought. Had he been foolish? He’d forgotten the most important step—soaking. It wouldn’t be ready to eat for some time.

“Boss Du, Boss Du!!”

Just as he considered eating a piece of freshly cooked, unsoaked beef to tide himself over, Xiang Yuanyuan’s voice sounded from outside.

“I’m here, what is it?”

Du Ruo replied, stepping out to see Xiang Yuanyuan calling to him from the tavern’s second-floor balcony.

“Come over for dinner tonight. My family sent me some local specialties. I’ve invited Secretary Yang, who’ll be here soon.”

Standing on the balcony, Xiang Yuanyuan smiled as she extended her invitation.

“Sure, give me a moment.”

Du Ruo’s eyes brightened—no more headaches about what to eat. He turned to the kitchen, grabbed a bowl, fished out a piece of braised beef still soaking, and ladled some marinade as well, then went out again.

It wouldn’t do to visit someone’s home, especially for dinner, empty-handed. Though the beef wasn’t yet flavorful, soaking overnight would be enough; daily, he could slice and eat it, perfect for a drink with Xiang Yuanyuan.

“Come up through the side door, I’ll open it for you.”

Seeing Du Ruo approach, Xiang Yuanyuan offered.

“No need for all that.”

Carrying the bowl, Du Ruo bent his knees, channeling his energy into his legs, then pushed off forcefully. His body soared, feet finding purchase on the wall, leveraging again, and in a single motion he landed on the balcony—a height of three and a half meters—without spilling a drop of soup from the bowl.

“Wow, you just came up like that? That’s some martial arts!”

Xiang Yuanyuan was astonished, even doubting her own eyes as she glanced at the ground below. Perhaps she’d drunk too much—was she hallucinating?

“No big deal—just a technique from the Natural School. Never mind, you wouldn’t understand. Here’s some braised beef I just made. Put it in the fridge and heat it up tomorrow; slice it for drinks. If you run out, I have more.”

Du Ruo intended to explain, but seeing Xiang Yuanyuan’s confusion at the mention of the Natural School, he let it go, handing her the bowl.

In truth, he’d taken a shortcut, using his energy; otherwise, he’d have needed to use his arms for extra leverage.