LAVW – Chapter 167 Tiger Tiger

After a long stretch of pat-pat-pat filming, Shi Qian discovered that his fluffy little face was actually able to deliver noticeably better performances.

By the later stages, he could already easily catch the exact “points” Laman wanted—temporarily chalk it up as his acting having improved again.

Day after day, the filming schedule quickly approached its end.

Shi Qian was shooting his final scenes.

The grown little Tiger King helps the human prince reclaim the lands the kingdom had lost.

On the day the kingdom is rebuilt, the prince stands high atop the imperial city, accepting the cheers and tears of the people.

The people mourn the fertile lands lost with the fall of the nation, the lovingly decorated homes, the family members who shared life and death with them…

Their country has returned. The future is promising—it will surely grow better and better. The land may be damaged and ruined, but it can be tended again little by little. Houses may have been burned, but they can be rebuilt. Only the dearly loved family members will never return.

Tears water both joy and pain at once. No one knows what kind of flowers will bloom on this land in the future; they only know that, at this moment, the clouds and glowing haze across the sky are exceptionally beautiful.

At the city’s exit, the little Tiger King is preparing to depart.

Hearing those cries and cheers, Shi Qian turns his head to look, and he too sees the magnificent, dreamlike clouds above the city.

After looking a few more times, he leaves—slowly, yet firmly.

His mission is complete.

It is time to return and shoulder the responsibility that is his.

Coming to the human world, the little Tiger King discovered that humans also have many good people—they are not like the legends say. And with his exceptional intelligence, aside from being unable to speak, he has little difficulty communicating with others.

He possesses a wisdom that surpasses other tiger beasts, one that draws close to humans.

Like a “human” among the tigers.

Returning to his clan, he will once again be lonely, just as before.

Yet he leaves without looking back.

Having agreed with the prince—played by Pascal—not to see him off, the little Tiger King deliberately chose the prince’s most important moment, ensuring he could not slip away.

But across the city and the crowd, the prince—now a “king”—seems still able to see the departing figure of his friend.

His friend—the friend who helped him reclaim his homeland—is leaving just like this?

After much hesitation, the prince jumps down from the high wall, pushes through the crowd, and charges forward.

The crowd erupts in shock. Astonishment appears on faces still wet with tears or lit with smiles—at a glance, it’s rather endearing.

The people part like the Red Sea before Moses. The prince runs through his battered homeland, as if mischievously playing outside like in childhood. But now he has grown; his face sets, and he carries the dignity of a king. He sprints all the way to the city gate, witnessing with his own eyes the departing back of his friend.

The little Tiger King turns back once more. They look at each other without words, then part calmly.

Shi Qian is very mindful of his footsteps—Laman had emphasized this: slow and firm, gradually gaining strength, then running away with light power.

He mustn’t run too fast, or the camera dolly won’t be able to keep up.

And in his eyes, there must appear the opposite emotion—the sorrow of parting.

This kind of sorrow doesn’t take Shi Qian long to summon; all it takes is a glance at Merlin.

As time has passed, Merlin has already become certain—he truly wants to leave. So occasionally, the sadness will suddenly surface ahead of time.

This scene, for Merlin, is an absolute emotional kill. Watching it, tears fall from her eyes.

When Shi Qian looks over, he seems able to glimpse some future day reflected in Merlin’s tear-filled gaze.

After finishing the difficult run, another “Cut!” rings out, followed by Laman shouting at the top of his lungs that filming has wrapped.

Shi Qian: ! Finally, it’s over.

Such grueling filming was the greatest hardship Shi Qian has endured in this world—but the gains were substantial as well.

Clearly, everyone else also felt that the end of filming was an amazing thing, and they started shouting and cheering. Shi Qian joined in too:

“Roar—roar—”

The moment he joined, the celebration abruptly quieted down.

Only after quite a while did laughter break out again, along with hushed discussions about how astonishing the “tiger roar” had been.

A tiger’s voice is majestic and highly intimidating. Because tiger roars fall within the ultra-low frequency range, they can even produce infrasound. Infrasound can resonate with the internal organs of humans and other animals, thus—very scientifically—inducing a feeling of fear.

Shi Qian had gotten too excited this time and failed to rein it in, genuinely scaring quite a few people.

Hearing the chatter, he obediently quieted down and returned the joy to the crew.

Laman, who had secretly filmed a set of behind-the-scenes shots, took the chance to rub his chest—he’d been stunned for a moment just now too.

Only Merlin paid no mind. She stepped forward and placed the flower wreath she had prepared in advance onto the white tiger’s head. The wreath was artificial, avoiding any risk of pollen bothering the tiger, and looked very lifelike.

Shi Qian pressed his face against hers.

“Roar…”

Don’t cry anymore.

Merlin wiped away her tears herself. “Qian, you acted so well—I cried watching it. And it’s not just me. Look, the assistant director, and the others too…”

Shi Qian followed the direction Merlin mentioned and, sure enough, spotted a three-hundred-jin, heartbroken, sobbing assistant director.

Besides the assistant director, there were others who had been moved to tears as well.

Shi Qian: ?

Was it really that good?

He used to have a bit of confidence in his acting, but once it was in Laman’s hands, that confidence seemed to vanish. And Pascal, who was acting alongside him, was exceptionally strong—subtly raising Shi Qian’s standard for what counted as “good acting.”

Before Shi Qian could finish counting how many people were crying, the celebration gathering arrived first.

It was an unusually lively day. But Shi Qian didn’t like the smell of alcohol, nor did he want to dampen the mood, so after showing his face briefly, he left early.

Merlin was a bit more sociable—she stayed to eat before leaving.

The moment Pascal saw her go, he immediately followed.

He was still somewhat immersed in the role. If not for his assistant holding him back, he might have chased after the white tiger right from the start. Now that the drinking was halfway through, leaving at this point wasn’t considered too rude.

“Merlin.” Pascal called her name from behind.

Merlin turned around, looked at him, and asked, “What is it?”

“I want to talk to Qian a bit more,” Pascal replied humorously as he caught up to her and walked alongside her. “I want to ask him if I can go to his place to hang out in the future.”

Merlin wasn’t in a great mood. Knowing full well that this question was really directed at her, she didn’t answer directly. Instead, she said coldly and without mercy, “Then go ask him.”

Let’s see whether Qian will tell you.

Pascal choked.

He rubbed his nose. “Merlin, what’s going on between you and Qian? I feel like you’ve both been a bit strange lately. You seem kind of sad.”

“If—if Qian has any problems or needs anything, you can tell me. I genuinely treat Qian as a friend, even as a brother, as family.”

Pascal himself felt that this sudden outburst was a bit absurd, but he couldn’t help projecting Qian onto the role of the “little tiger king” from the film.

Merlin stopped walking.

She stared steadily at Pascal. “We need a suitable place that borders the wilderness. I’m preparing to… let Qian return to his true home.”

“Qian needs a site where he can adapt to the wild, as well as experts and trainers to help carry out the training.”

Pascal recalled the crazy things he had said a few months ago, his face full of shock. “Why? Does Qian really want to go back to the forest? I think he’s adapted really well.”

“I don’t know. But all kinds of signs point that way.”

Merlin truly needed someone to talk to, and Pascal had walked straight into the line of fire.

Looking at Pascal, who was clearly reluctant to let go, she deliberately asked, “What would you do if you were me?”

Pascal remained silent.

It wasn’t until they reached the door, where they could hear the narration of Animal World playing inside, that Pascal finally spoke with a heavy heart.

“I would be the same as you, Merlin.”

He would also choose to follow Qian’s wishes.

“I might actually be able to help,” Pascal added, emphasizing his usefulness. “For this role, I’ve been in contact with quite a few people who raise large animals, and I’ve even made some friends.”

He was met with a glare from Merlin, who had just opened the door.

Seeing the white tiger turn its head, blue eyes looking toward them, Pascal chose to change the subject and muttered softly, “Why are you glaring at me?”

In Merlin’s heart, although she had already made her decision—and it was she who had brought the matter up to Pascal—thinking that Pascal might “speed up” the process of Qian leaving still made her feel extremely unhappy.

She knew she was being unreasonable, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Shi Qian watched the atmosphere between the two, his gossip-loving heart stirring once again.

After all—Merlin had captured the hearts of quite a few foolish young men. Pascal wasn’t foolish, but he was a foodie, which meant he, too, was firmly in Merlin’s grasp.

However, after observing for a while, there was actually nothing going on between them.

Shi Qian failed to get any gossip. Disappointed, he parted ways with Pascal and went home with Merlin.

Back at the home he hadn’t returned to in a long time, Merlin busied herself with cleaning, while Shi Qian went to play with the python, Jack.

The official excuse was: putting fierce beasts together, so they won’t scare the little kids outside!

Jack: …

The python expressed a single message through action—don’t come any closer!

But when Shi Qian stopped playing with the snake, Jack poked his head out again, secretly peeking.

After not seeing each other for so long, he did miss this strange friend a little.

Shi Qian looked over, and Jack’s head immediately shot back, as if tied to a bungee cord—so fast it was impressive.

Shi Qian wasn’t surprised. He lay down by the wire fence and fell asleep.

Half-dreaming, half-awake, he felt his tail itching.

Turning his head, he saw Delin secretly touching his tail.

Shi Qian rolled over, his tail sweeping out of Delin’s hand.

Delin sighed. “Tails are really nicer to touch when they’ve got fur.”

Shi Qian: …

Careful, or the hairless one in your house is going to make a fuss.

With Shi Qian’s scent on his hands, Delin predictably got rejected when he went to pet the snake.

Shi Qian’s eyes lit up at the sight. Mischievously, he went around to block Jack from the other side and seized the chance to hug Jack’s head, wrapping himself around it.

In the end, Jack chose to return to Delin’s arms.

So what if there was a tiger’s scent on him?

That was still better than being grabbed by a white tiger.

Seeing his precious baby come back, Delin was overjoyed.

Unfortunately, that happiness lasted only one second—because the next moment, Jack, using too much force, dragged him straight into the pool.

Shi Qian nodded to himself in quiet approval.

The name Jack really wasn’t chosen wrong—if I love you, I’ll jump into the water with you!