The Cub

Zhenxing was delighted when his father brought the cub home. It was small, not more than a few weeks old, soft and warm as it sat in his arms. He snuggled the small creature to his chest, not listening as his father shouted, once again arguing with his grandmother.

His attention was fixed on the small face nuzzling his own, the cub's raspy tongue tickling his cheek. It mewled, nudging at his neck, and Zhenxing thought it must be hungry. His father paid him no mind as Zhenxing tiptoed out of the small hut, wondering what he should feed the cub.

The moon was bright and full, so big it seemed like Zhenxing could reach up and grab it. Silver snow dusted the ground, the old year waning and the new year just around the corner. Bundling the cub into the front of his tunic to keep it warm as he made the short trek across the yard to the barn, Zhenxing stifled his giggles as its whiskers tickled him.

He slipped inside the ramshackle building, squinting until his eyes got used to the darkness. Muttering soothing words to the goat, Zhenxing set to work milking the feisty creature, who was none too happy about being woken in the middle of the night.

When he had enough, he poured the milk into a bowl and pulled the cub from inside his tunic. He set it on the ground beside the bowl, nudging it toward the milk. When it caught the smell, the small creature lapped hungrily, making little suckling noises that warmed Zhenxing's heart.

Delighted by his new pet, Zhenxing crouched beside the cub until it had licked the bowl clean. Then, he lay down in the straw near the goat—much to her displeasure—and pulled the tiny cub close.

Boy and cub fell asleep snuggled together, foreheads touching.

They were both startled awake when his father came slamming into the barn, shouting and furious. When he saw Zhenxing curled protectively around the cub, he lunged toward his son. Jerking him up by the collar, his father slapped him until he coughed blood. "Stupid, rotten bastard! Useless filthy dog! How could my son be so stupid and useless!?"

Zhenxing was mute with terror, wondering what he had done this time to anger his father. When his father released him, he dropped to the ground and stayed there, shaking. It wasn't until the cub gave an outraged hiss that he dared look up. To his horror, he found his father roughly stuffing his new companion into a sack.

"You stay right here until I get back, or else," his father warned, slamming the door shut behind him.

Tears streamed down Zhenxing's face as the cub's crying faded away.

Then, the most dreadful thought crossed his young mind. His father was a hunter. Was he going to kill the cub and sell its hide at market?

The thought of those bright blue eyes dimming and the soft orange fur sullied by blood made Zhenxing's heart pound. No! He couldn't let his father do something so terrible to something so small and defenseless.

Spurred by a sudden bout of bravery, Zhenxing burst from the barn, startling his grandmother who was shelling peas on the front step. She yelled at him as he ran out of the yard and down the road, but he didn't stop to hear what nasty things she might call him.

Zhenxing ran as fast as his short legs would carry him, dark hair flying behind him, clothes shedding bits of straw as he flew down the road. He took the path into the forest, heedless of the brambles tearing his thin clothes and the branches scratching at his pale face.

He ran, and ran until a familiar, small mewling brought him to a dead stop. Zhenxing peered through the brush only to find a heartbreaking sight.

The cub was struggling in the mud, bright fur dulled with filth, the coppery scent of blood permeating the air. A red cut scored across the back of its leg, leaving it unable to walk. Crying again, Zhenxing ran toward the cub and scooped it into his arms. An angry slew of curse words sent his heart into a panic and he turned abruptly, running deeper into the forest.

His father's angry voice cut through the cold air. "If I ever see you again, I'll beat you to death, you worthless son of a slut!"

Everything in Zhenxing believed that threat, making him run harder, the cub still in his arms. He didn't stop running until the sun was high in the sky and he couldn't possibly take another step. Exhaustion buckled his knees and Zhenxing collapsed next to a tree that was as big around as seven of him.

The cub was still mewling in pain, so Zhenxing sat up. Sweat poured down his face as he used his teeth to tear a strip of cloth off the edge of his tunic. As gently as he could, he bound the wound on the cub's leg. "We'll find another town," he promised it. "I'll get medicine there."

Then he put his back to the giant tree, the cub cradled in his arms, and fell asleep.

He slept as the padding of giant paws came over the thin layer of snow.

He slept as the tiger lowered its massive head, golden eyes taking in the tender way he held the cub and the bandage on the small creature's leg.

Zhenxing slept as the tiger bared its teeth at the smell of the cub's blood.

He slept as golden light filled the forest, and strong arms lifted him from the cold, muddy ground.

The Immortal smiled at the boy in his arms, and the cub cradled against the boy. He looked at the tiger before blowing gently on the cub's leg. The sweet smell of anthurium flowers filled the winter forest, and the cub mewled as the bandages fell away, revealing whole, healed skin.

Gently, the Immortal returned the cub to its mother. Then, he looked at the sleeping human in his arms.

His nostrils flared and he brushed aside the boy's hair to peer at his face. There, written clearly as new ink on crisp paper was the sign of one born in this Immortal's year. And more than that! He could sense that the boy's spiritual power was strong, his spiritual core made of the compatible elements of fire and wood. 

"For your kindness, I will bestow a great gift on you," he whispered to the exhausted boy, taking in his scratched face and smelling the bitter scent of a newly abandoned child.

Then, he stepped through a golden door, still carrying the boy in his arms.

And that is how Zhenxing, the unwanted son of a lowly hunter, became the most beloved attendant of the Tiger Immortal, the third Guardian of His Heavenly Majesty, the Jade Emperor. 


Word Count: 1124

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