"Is this it?"
Qin Zhan rubbed his eyes doubtfully.
Tang Chuxia also doubted her life choices.
She had been all set to watch the king of the forest battle humans, but it seemed fixated only on that pot of soup.
"Is it really that delicious?"
Third Grandpa muttered in suspicion.
Even Qin Zhan watched the tiger, which had burnt its tongue and was panting, with doubt, feeling that the scene before him was somewhat magical.
The old monk brought his hands together, "Amitabha, perhaps the eyes of beasts are different from those of humans!"
The old Taoist snorted, "Do you believe that when you say it?"
No one dared to approach the tiger, so they could only stand at a distance on alert. The tiger treated them as if they were nothing.
Soon, several of the forest's tyrants arrived, surrounding the little iron pot and vying for it as if they were ready to come to blows over a pot of soup.
"Should we retreat?" suggested Qin Zhan, fearing the crazed animals might affect them too.
