(12) The Eggshell Cracks

Liu Yi blinked, unscrewed her little canteen, and took a couple of swigs. The icy spiritual spring water slid down her throat, finally reviving her senses. Do not do unto others what you do not want done to yourself; if someone took her things, she’d be devastated—so would the little squirrel. Chastising herself, she quickly gathered the hazelnuts scattered on the ground and stowed them in her basket. Her legs had gone numb from crouching, so she massaged her calves before continuing to collect other nuts.

By the time she returned to the estate bathed in the sunset’s glow, the tigress had already beaten her home. In the yard lay the day’s catch: a large wild boar and two pheasants.

“My, what a bountiful harvest!” she exclaimed.

The tigress was nursing her cub and the little puppy, her usually majestic demeanor tinged with pride at the praise, her expression both dignified and adorably smug.

“All of this is for Great-grandmother; Mama and I have already eaten,” the tiger cub murmured contentedly, eyes half-closed as he suckled, still eager to show his devotion.

“Mama Tiger, you’re amazing! Thank you, Tiger! This will last me several days—you’re the best!” Liu Yi’s flattery made the white tiger and her cub’s ears go flat with pleasure, all traces of ferocity forgotten.

It was getting late and she was too tired to fuss, so she stored the wild boar away in her spatial pouch, rinsed off some mud, and quickly prepared the pheasants into beggar’s chicken. Even the leftover bones from the meal weren’t wasted—the tiger cub, lured by the scent, trotted over to gnaw at them, soon joined by the silly puppy.

She opened up a guest room on the first floor for the white tiger and her cub, setting out bedding and drawing the curtains so they could settle in. This way, they could rest whenever they were tired and, in the meantime, guard her safety. The tiger is the king of the jungle, ferocious and mighty; with Mama Tiger around, even the wolves, leopards, and other predators would think twice before approaching.

The tiger cub had always coveted Great-grandmother’s soft bed, but had never said so out of politeness. Now, with a big bed of his own, he rolled around on it in delight. The tigress lounged at ease, dozing contentedly.

After settling them in, Liu Yi washed up and was about to store the two puppies in her space, when she heard a very faint yet distinct cracking sound.

Was that an eggshell breaking?

To ensure her precious pink egg hatched healthily, Liu Yi had been turning it regularly and moistening the shell with a few drops of spiritual spring water. She would also hold it up to the light, checking if the embryo inside was developing normally.

Carefully, she took the big pink egg out of her space. As she reached toward the crack, she felt something cool and damp brush against her fingertip.

It had really hatched!

A wave of joy washed over her, overwhelming and all-consuming.

“Crack…crack!” With every burst of sound, more shell fell away. Inside, a tiny, naked creature curled up, breathing rapidly, its body still slick with unabsorbed fluids and streaked with blood.

“Why did you stop? Just a little more and you’ll be out,” Liu Yi whispered, reaching in through the hole to gently touch the smooth little thing. She desperately wanted to help, but remembered that breaking out of the shell was a bird’s first trial, essential for its growth; she had to suppress her urge to intervene.

Let it struggle a bit longer on its own—if it couldn’t manage, she’d help. Hatching was a slow process, and by the second half of the night, the chick still hadn’t freed itself.

Unable to bear it, Liu Yi dripped the spiritual spring water through the crack, letting it touch the chick’s beak. Its beak was soft and almost translucent, making her extra careful with her movements.

Time ticked by; she grew drowsy…

“Cheep~”

At dawn, a hoarse, weak chirp sounded by her ear. Sleepiness vanished in an instant; her almond-shaped eyes snapped wide as she peered at the eggshell on her bedside.

The chick that had begun to hatch last night had finally emerged. It had struggled free, breathing hard, its wings pressed against shards of shell. Its eyes, huge and occupying most of its head, were still tightly shut. Most of the mucus on its body had dried, revealing sparse white fuzz that barely concealed the dark red skin beneath.

At first glance, it was ugly—on closer inspection, it was even uglier.

Animal babies are usually at their cutest in infancy, but birds are the exception. Even those ethereal, grain-shunning creatures like red-crowned cranes are homely beyond compare as chicks.

This little hatchling was no different—so ugly it was almost comical.

Liu Yi grumbled at its appearance even as she cared for it. She placed it on a coral fleece blanket and fed it some diluted goat’s milk. Worried about the heat, she put it back in her space and warned the two puppies not to bully the chick.

The puppies had never seen anything so ugly in their short lives and crowded around, noses wrinkled in disgust at the pitiful little thing on the blanket. Curious, they reached out with fluffy paws to poke at it.

Seeing their paws about to touch the fragile chick, Liu Yi quickly stopped them. “Be good, you two. It’s too little for roughhousing. When it’s bigger, you can all play together.”

But the usually well-behaved puppies seemed obsessed, constantly sneaking over to the chick as if brimming with boundless energy, more motivated than even by food.

At a loss over their odd behavior, Liu Yi sent the puppies out to play with the tiger cub. Having barely slept all night, she felt exhausted and considered lazing about for a day. Still, she couldn’t just idle away her time, so she began poring over the books she’d unearthed.

“Complete Guide to Bird Rearing”

Chicks have a large crop and can store food, so feeding them three to four times a day is sufficient—at fixed times and in measured amounts. The food should have the consistency of corn soup or rice gruel…

Perfect for her little chick.

Though it was still terribly ugly, she looked forward to the day it would grow feathers and become beautiful—like the mythical phoenix rising from the ashes.

After a morning’s study, Liu Yi felt confident and began preparing chick feed—grinding mixed grains into a paste with water, adding in some egg yolk. She then used a needleless syringe to gently feed the softened mixture to the chick.

Whether it was unwell or just weak, the chick’s appetite seemed poor, its spirits low. She gave it some more spiritual spring water.

“Even though you’re ugly, I don’t mind. You have to grow up strong, alright?”

She remembered that newly-hatched chicks often imprint on the first creature they see, regarding it as their mother—a kind of chick attachment.

“Sweetheart, from now on I’m your mama. We’ll rely on each other, so you must live well, be strong and brave, and never give up…”

Whether or not the little bird could understand, Liu Yi chattered away with great enthusiasm. In the end, she even sang a lullaby to the chick—though she missed every note, her melody straying as far as a runaway train.

The dark sky hangs low, bright stars accompany it.
Fireflies fly, fireflies fly, who are you missing...