Chapter 11.2

“Qilin, time to change your bandages,” the woman said as she approached a large iron cage.

Through the bars, the camera showed a golden tiger lazily sleeping inside.

The woman explained to the audience, «Qilin is extremely difficult to capture. Once it enters the inner forest, humans usually can’t get close. This is only the second time in eight months we’ve managed to bring Qilin in for treatment. Due to long-term malnutrition, anemia, exhaustion, and calcium deficiency, it’s been quite lethargic lately. It’s not lazy—it just needs extra rest.»

As she spoke, she entered the cage and approached the large tiger.

Zhou Qin suddenly noticed, “Wait, is that zookeeper not wearing any protective gear?”

“Qilin.” Mu Ling stroked the tiger’s large head.

The tiger woke up, its cold, lifeless beast eyes flickered as it glanced at Mu Ling, licked its lips, rolled over, and stood up.

“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!” The tiger shook itself vigorously like a spinning machine, sending dust flying all over Mu Ling’s face.

“Pah!” Mu Ling spat out the fur particles and quickly pressed down on the tiger’s rear, saying, “Sit down.”

The tiger obediently sat down. Mu Ling then grabbed its hind leg. “Let’s start by changing the bandage here.”

She skillfully removed the gauze, then angled the camera for a close-up of the wound. The entire screen filled with two fang holes left by a snake bite. After ensuring the shot was clear, Mu Ling explained, “This is a snake bite wound. Qilin fought with a python and got its hind leg badly bitten. We’ve given it an injection to clear the venom, but the wound is still swollen and needs medication.”

Keeping its leg in one position was uncomfortable for Qilin. Its tail kept slapping against Mu Ling’s hand, as if urging her to hurry up.

“Qilin’s getting a bit impatient. Usually, I don’t take this long to change the bandages,” Mu Ling said, grabbing the tail with one hand while pressing the gauze firmly with the other. “Now let’s change the one on its back.”

When the back wound was uncovered, the scene became quite bloody and gruesome.

Zhou Qin and his roommate immediately felt very uncomfortable, but the woman in the video carefully filmed the wound while explaining in detail how it was caused. She described everything thoroughly—from the impact area to the precise length of the wound in millimeters, providing a comprehensive simulation of how Qilin was injured.

She didn’t really need to go into such detail; even non-veterinarians could see that this was clearly an impact injury. And only another large beast could have thrown such a big tiger with enough force to cause such damage.

By the time she finished changing the bandage on its back, Qilin had grown impatient. As soon as the bandage was secured, it stood up on its hind legs, walked over to an empty bowl, and pawed at the stainless steel container that was larger than a washbasin.

Mu Ling smiled, “Your food is almost ready, being prepared by your big brother Wei Li.”

Seeing no food in the bowl, the tiger settled for taking a drink of water, then began licking its paws.

Suddenly, Mu Ling noticed something. The camera zoomed in sharply. “Qilin, what’s wrong with your claws? Oh no, they’re curling inwards! They’re too long—if we don’t trim them, they’ll embed into your paw pads.”

She quickly rummaged through the medical box and found a hair trimmer and nail clippers at the very bottom. She beckoned, “Qilin, come here. Let’s trim your claws before you eat.”

Turning to the viewers, Mu Ling explained, «Qilin is a bit hungry now, but this can’t wait. If the claws are too curved, it’ll be uncomfortable when it walks.»

The tiger turned its head to look at Mu Ling, licked its lips, and lazily walked over to flop down beside her.

Mu Ling leaned in, grabbed its right front paw, and felt the length of its claws.

The tiger, feeling uncomfortable, tried to bite her hand to pry it loose.

Mu Ling pushed away its sharp white fangs and said sternly, “Don’t mess around, or I might accidentally cut your whiskers.”

“Snip!” With that, she trimmed off a section of claw.

Qilin blinked.

“Roar!” The tiger suddenly realized something was amiss. It immediately struggled, pulling in its paws and roaring at Mu Ling’s face as if asking, “What are you doing?”

Mu Ling didn’t seem bothered, her tone quite dismissive: “Yes, yes, I know. Big sister is bad, big sister isn’t nice.”

“Snip!” The second claw section was trimmed.

“Roar!” The tiger called out again—it was really angry now.

Mu Ling didn’t even blink, continuing to placate it: “Yes, yes, big sister is hateful. Big sister is forcing Qilin to trim its claws. Big sister is a bad big sister. Our Qilin won’t be friends with big sister anymore.”

“Snip!” The third claw section was trimmed off.

Qilin blinked.

It had enough. One paw was already beyond saving, so it quickly tucked its surviving paw into its chest fur to hide it. Then it flopped its body over, pressing half its weight onto Mu Ling, trying to use its bulk to pin down her hands and prevent further trimming.

But on camera, this clingy behavior looked more like the tiger was actively seeking affection from the woman.

“Snip, snip!” Mu Ling, like a merciless nail-trimming machine, promptly cut off the fourth and fifth claw sections. Then she reached into Qilin’s chest fur to fish out its other paw and continued snipping away.

Qilin blinked.

It lay sprawled out on the mat, looking as deflated as a tiger pancake.

Mu Ling couldn’t help herself. She leaned in and planted a firm kiss on the tiger’s furry forehead, then stroked its head fur to comfort it: “Big sister didn’t trim too much, just the curved bits. Your claws are your weapons—big sister wouldn’t cut them short. Qilin is so good, the bravest little tiger who dares to get its claws trimmed. Big sister will reward you with canned treats, okay? You can have two cans all to yourself, big sister won’t take any.”

The tiger was still unhappy, but with someone constantly talking in its ear, it felt itchy. It shook its ears and nuzzled its forehead against Mu Ling’s chin.

Mu Ling kissed it again, “Qilin’s silence means agreement, right? Then let’s trim the claws on your hind legs.”