Suddenly, in the dim, yellowish glow of the kerosene lamp, an object caught my eye. My eyes widened instantly, and my heart began to pound uncontrollably. That—that shape—wasn't that the tiger-skin skirt worn by the Great Sage Equal to Heaven in Journey to the West? But looking at this one in front of me, how could it be so large? It was practically a wide, thick quilt. Countless questions flashed through my mind: why were they taking out this giant piece of tiger skin? Were they actually going to make a tiger-skin coat for me? I stood there, stunned, my gaze fixed firmly on the tiger skin, my shock beyond compare.
"Cousin, is this... is this really tiger skin?" I asked cautiously, my voice filled with undisguisable surprise and doubt.
"Mhm." Cousin merely responded with a simple sound, his tone indifferent, betraying no emotion.
"Is it real tiger skin? The authentic kind?" I still couldn't believe it and pressed for an answer.
"Mhm." The reply remained brief.
"How can it be this big? I've never seen a tiger skin this large in my life!" I exclaimed.
"It's an Old Mountain Lord from the forests in the Northeast. Can it be small?" Cousin glanced at me and explained.
"Old Mountain Lord? What is that?" I was completely confused, filled with curiosity about this unfamiliar term.
"In the Northeast, a Mountain Lord is a big tiger," Cousin said patiently, without a trace of irritation on his face.
"Oh, so, did you hunt this yourself?" I leaned in curiously to ask.
"No, my Master left it for me." Cousin’s voice suddenly turned deep, and a flash of complicated emotion passed through his eyes.
"Your Master? Is he very old? Why haven't I seen him?" I continued to pester him, overflowing with curiosity about this mysterious Master.
"My Master... he is in a very, very far place. I don't even know if I will ever see him again." Cousin looked into the distance, his tone filled with melancholy and longing.
"Oh, is your Master very old?" I wanted to keep asking.
"He is getting on in years. He’s sixty-five this year. At his age, I don't know why he still insists on running around everywhere," Cousin sighed, speaking with a sense of helplessness.
"Oh, so Cousin, what are you taking the tiger skin out for now?" I finally couldn't hold back the confusion in my heart.
"I’ll be using it in a moment!" Cousin was still his usual man of few words.
"Using it? What for?" I insisted on getting to the bottom of it.
"You'll know in a moment. Alright, don't talk now. Keep quiet and just wait." Cousin interrupted my chatter. He clearly realized that as soon as I got comfortable, I would become a chatterbox with endless questions. I suspect he was a little annoyed.
Cousin remained seated on his meditation cushion, his expression calm as if everything around him had nothing to do with him. Biti Tao was busy laying out the tiger skin on the Grandmaster chair; the skin looked a bit heavy, and he seemed to be fumbling with it. His face turned flushed, and beads of sweat covered his forehead as he struggled to flip it over. Being bored, I walked over to help him stretch and arrange the skin. After finally finishing, Biti Tao mimicked Cousin, eyes closed, sitting on another cushion with a solemn look. Watching the two of them, and not knowing what I should or shouldn't do, I simply sat down on the tiger skin.
The colors of the tiger skin remained vibrant, composed of black, yellow, and a touch of white. The black stripes looked like spilled ink, clear and distinct, as if sketched by nature using the most exquisite craftsmanship. The yellow parts were as dazzling as sunlight, exuding a warm yet majestic aura, while the white was as pure as snowflakes, interwoven with the black and yellow to form a unique, breathtaking masterpiece. The stripes varied in shape, width, and size—some were thick and bold, full of the tiger’s power, while others were as fine as hair, winding and twisting like mysterious markings. These stripes extended from the head to the tail, taking on different forms across various parts of the body, each section brimming with a unique charm. The texture of the tiger skin was tough yet elastic; the fur was thick and glossy, with every single hair appearing meticulously smoothed and tightly arranged into a sturdy layer of protection. Even under the dim light of the kerosene lamp, the skin still reflected a soft, alluring luster, adding to its majesty and mystery, as if echoing the heroism and legend of the tiger it once belonged to.
I was bored, slowly stroking the tiger fur and feeling its unique texture. At that moment, time seemed to stretch out, becoming extraordinarily long. I don't know how much time passed before I finally caught a movement from Cousin out of the corner of my eye.
Cousin first raised his hands slowly, drawing a semicircle on either side with elegant, fluid motions, as if tracing some mysterious pattern. Then, he let out a soft breath, long and steady, as if expelling all distractions from his heart. Immediately after, a shocking scene unfolded: he stood up from the ground. This defied all scientific logic! He hadn't used his hands to push off the floor, and, crucially, he had been sitting cross-legged. Yet, in one motion, he stood up without a moment's hesitation, as light as a bird, as if gravity no longer had any hold on him.
"Xiao Yezi, you stay seated on that Grandmaster chair. Do not come down. No matter what you hear or see in a moment, you are not allowed to shout, and definitely do not jump around or cry out. Do you understand?" Cousin turned, his face stern, his eyes revealing an indisputable authority.
"Understood." Somehow, upon seeing this expression on Cousin’s face, I, who should have been calm, began to feel nervous; an inexplicable sense of unease welled up in my heart.
"Tao, you go over and watch Xiao Yezi. If he acts abnormally in a moment, just wrap him up in the tiger skin," Cousin said, feeling uneasy. He turned to Biti Tao on the other side, his tone heavy with worry.
"Mhm!" Biti Tao answered briefly and crisply, his eyes firm, as if he were ready to deal with anything at any moment.
Cousin walked over to the Altar and stood still. He stepped lightly to the left with his left foot, his movement steady and powerful, then sank his body slightly. His posture was like a towering mountain, giving off an atmosphere of stability and mystery. He brought his hands up from his chest, and because I was sitting behind him, I couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but I could feel his hands gesturing in front of his chest. The movements were complex and orderly, as if he were casting some magical spell. He was also muttering words that I couldn't hear or understand; the sound was deep and mysterious, like an ancient incantation. Suddenly, I understood the final word! "Ci!" As he roared this word, his body turned slightly to the left. His right hand rested on his left elbow, and his left hand formed a Sword Finger, pointing directly at the candle on the left. The candle on the left flared with fire, "Teng!" No lighter, no matches—it just ignited like magic! Immediately after, another "Ci!" followed. Simultaneously, his left hand rested on his right elbow, his body turned to the right, and his right Sword Finger pointed at the candle on the right. The flickering flame seemed to respond to the summons, and the right candle ignited as well. My mouth hung open; had the candles just been lit out of thin air? The two flames flickered in the dim room, illuminating Cousin’s stern and mysterious face, while also lighting the way for the unknown that was about to unfold...