Chapter Thirty-Nine: Love You, Love You, Love You to Death

As soon as Lu Hu finished shouting “White Da Bai,” the creature leapt to its feet. Before he could finish saying, “Let’s go eat,” it had already vaulted out, and as the words “Tonight, let’s indulge to our hearts’ content” were still hanging in the air, a large chunk of venison had been torn off by its jaws.

The pack horse carrying the meat was startled, rearing up and neighing loudly, then bolting away in panic.

All the horses were frightened, scattering in all directions, on the verge of stampeding.

“Don’t be afraid, I am the God of Horses. The white tiger won’t bite you—stand your ground!” Lu Hu whinnied in horse language.

The warhorses, accustomed to the carnage of battlefields and the chaos of hunting grounds, were brave enough. With the god’s command, they steadied themselves and quieted down.

Curious, they gathered close, craning their necks to admire the god’s presence.

“What are you staring at? I’m the God of Horses, and I've taken human form,” Lu Hu said, spouting nonsense without hesitation.

The warhorses nodded respectfully: Today their eyes were truly opened—they’d finally met the long-revered god. Oh, mighty one, please watch over us from now on...

While Lu Hu was interacting with the horses, Yakshi hurried to unload the game, piling it in the snow outside the tent.

White Da Bai devoured its share with gusto, reflecting inwardly: Truly, I have followed the right god. Now there’s no worry about food or fun—just stay by the god’s side and act like a big shot!

“Lord God, the meal is ready. Come inside to dine,” Zhu Xiaoying called sweetly, lifting the tent flap and inviting Lu Hu in.

Lu Hu carried the fawn in one arm and the little white cub in the other, heading inside. He glanced back and said, “Brother-in-law, fetch some tender grass for me.”

“Oh, Lord God, these two little ones are simply adorable. I just love them!” Zhu Xiaoying held the door open, praising the white tiger as she pressed herself against Lu Hu.

Go away, keep your distance.

Those words never made it out of Lu Hu’s mouth; he tolerated her closeness.

Ma Lihong glided forward, her movements full of charm, greeting him: “Oh heavens! A little tiger, a little deer—how adorable. Love you, love you, love you to death!” She reached out, stroking the white cub’s fur, and took the opportunity to knead Lu Hu’s strong chest.

You two—one is improper, the other is flirtatious. Aren’t you afraid my beloved Yanali will learn and beat you both to death! Lu Hu was about to rebuke them, but the words stuck in his throat.

One doesn’t strike a smiling face, especially from two young, beautiful women lavishing attention. Besides, their affection is genuine; one can’t simply dampen their spirits. What’s a little loss, anyway? He sighed and endured.

The table was set: four large copper cauldrons, charcoal glowing beneath, simmering meat broth inside, filling the air with intoxicating aroma.

Beside the table stood a broad high-backed chair, draped with tiger skin.

Ma Lihong and Zhu Xiaoying, attentive and eager, assisted the god onto the tiger skin seat.

I’m not so old I can’t move, Lu Hu thought, but said aloud, “Did you two cook the meal?”

Ma Lihong, quick-tongued, replied like a woodpecker: “We tended that fellow who nearly got beaten to death, medicated his wounds, and laid him to rest. I thought the god would need a meal, so I sneaked out the back and found the cooks, urging them to prepare dinner quickly.”

Lu Hu then noticed a camp bed set up by the tent entrance, with Quan Dou Nan lying on it, his body covered in gaudy bruises.

“I thought of it first—I went out first. Those two cooks, hearing the fighting outside, hid themselves in the woodpile,” Zhu Xiaoying snapped, shooting Ma Lihong a glare and taking over the explanation.

“Lord God, those two cooks were like quails, their heads burrowed in the straw, with their bottoms sticking out, trembling,” Ma Lihong, unable to claim all credit, shifted the conversation, arching her brows to provoke Zhu Xiaoying.

Damn, even on a hunt they have two dedicated cooks. Sun Ze certainly knows how to live: “What delicacies did you make? Did it really take two cooks?”

“One pot of ginseng stewed with three kinds of animal tendon—deer, tiger, donkey. Finely sliced and slow-cooked, a great tonic.” Ma Lihong chattered as she ladled a bowl for Lu Hu.

Her fingers delicately held a silver spoon, scooping up some thick broth, then poured it into her own mouth.

What’s this—do you want to feed me mouth-to-mouth? Who knows where your lips have been—please, don’t try that on me...

Lu Hu was about to pick up the golden spoon from the table, but Zhu Xiaoying snatched it, took the bowl from Ma Lihong, and fed him a spoonful of broth.

Ma Lihong moved to the other side of the table, swaying her hips and performing a folk dance, her eyes full of affectionate glances for Lu Hu.

Suddenly, it dawned on Lu Hu: They’re testing for poison, reassuring me it’s safe to eat.

If the soup were poisoned, Ma Lihong would succumb quickly, especially after dancing and speeding up her circulation.

He opened his mouth and drank from Zhu Xiaoying’s spoon.

Let them feed me—it’s their job. If he refused, they might feel anxious, fearing they’d lose this golden position.

Another pot contained stewed fawn with radishes, another lamb with daylilies, another dragon meat with mushrooms. After testing for poison, the two maids alternated, feeding Lu Hu spoonfuls from each bowl.

Lu Hu set the white cub on the table, feeding it with the same spoon used for testing, one sip at a time.

Each time the cub finished a spoonful, Lu Hu extended the empty spoon, and Ma Lihong or Zhu Xiaoying would refill it with broth.

The broth was tender and delicious, and the white cub smacked its tiny mouth, squealing with delight.

When Lu Hu finally got a moment to himself, he said, “No need for both of you to fuss here. Zhu Xiaoying, go tend to the gentleman lying down.”

Zhu Xiaoying, reluctant, glared at Ma Lihong, pouted, and sashayed over to serve Quan Dou Nan.

“Lord God, I’ve brought the tender grass,” Yakshi’s voice came from outside the tent.

White Da Bai, feasting by the entrance, saw someone approaching and immediately dropped its meat, blocked the doorway, and bared its teeth in warning.

Now, White Da Bai recognized only the god; as for everyone else, it couldn’t care less.

Even without its threat, Yakshi dared not barge in. Who knew what the god and the two beautiful maids might be up to inside? If he intruded and caught something embarrassing, the god’s dignity would be compromised!

He wouldn’t risk such misfortune...

“Bring it in,” the god commanded. White Da Bai moved aside, letting Yakshi enter with the grass, then returned to gnawing meat.

“Come in, brother-in-law. You must be hungry—join us, don’t be shy. Take a bowl and dig in!” Lu Hu gestured to the fawn at his feet, indicating Yakshi should feed it the grass.

“I wouldn’t dare sit at the god’s table,” Yakshi replied humbly, crouching to feed the fawn.

“Zhu Xiaoying, bring another bowl and feed Yakshi. Brother-in-law, do you wish to be served as well?” Lu Hu joked.

“No, no, I wouldn’t dare,” Yakshi replied, flustered. He stood, grabbed an empty bowl, filled it with broth, and stood off to the side, slurping it down.

Lu Hu thought to have a chair brought for him, but reconsidered: The hierarchy was already established, and it was best to leave it so.

The lesson that a measure of rice is a favor, and a bushel breeds resentment—Lu Hu had experienced this in his past life, knowing well the inscrutable nature of people and their boundless greed. Everything must be done in moderation.

Yakshi slurped seven bowls, burped contentedly, and said, “Lord God, Yakshi is full. I’ll go tend to the warhorses now.”

He bent at the waist, retreating out...

Lu Hu stopped him: “Brother-in-law, don’t rush off. Which of these two girls do you prefer? Tonight, one will be yours.”

Lu Hu feared he would succumb to temptation and be taken by force by these two wild things, betraying his beloved Yanali.

Better to give the two maids, one to Yakshi and one to Shi Zhenxiang.

But Zhu Xiaoying, upon hearing this, was suddenly in tears, falling to her knees and crying, “Lord God, what have I done wrong? If you won’t have me, kill me now. I wish only to serve you in this lifetime, no one else. If you insist on giving me away, I’ll end my life right now.” She choked, unable to finish, then pulled out her golden hairpin and pressed its sharp end to her throat.

Ma Lihong wailed, throwing down her bowl and running behind the tiger skin seat, only to reappear moments later with a sword pressed to her neck: “If you command it, Lord God, I will die for you right now, sobbing…”

This was no act. Lu Hu was momentarily stunned.