Chapter Twenty-One: The Toad Covets the Swan

You don't even have a chance to get in, yet you dream about never pulling out and marrying a wife—keep dreaming!
Lu Hu muttered curses under his breath from behind.

An Shizhu, feeling quite pleased with himself and overflowing with confidence, called out, “Little beauty, be my wife! I’ll let you eat the best and drink the finest, you won’t even need to get out of bed, living in luxury just like my mother.”

A toad yearning for swan meat—how dare you even think of such a thing! With your mother’s rotten reputation, anyone would find her filthy even if she were given away for free. You dare to compare her to my darling little sweetheart? Wait till I make you pay for that.

Lu Hu shouted angrily, “Pig Shizhu, she’s my wife, a goddess sent down from the Eternal Heavens. Stop your nonsense and get lost!”

But An Shizhu looked as if he’d feel uncomfortable if he didn’t get a beating, twisting his fat head defiantly.
“So what if she’s your wife? I’ve got seven fathers, all sharing one wife with my mother, and they’re perfectly happy. We’re just two people sharing one wife—what’s the problem? Why are you so stingy?”

Oh, for heaven’s sake, this damned fat pig has no sense of shame left: “Don’t give me all that mess. Your mother is your mother. She’s a fairy—how could she possibly be the same as your mother?”

“Fairy? Fairies belong to the heavens. You don’t deserve to marry her either.”

An Shizhu was unconvinced.

“I am a divine general sent down by the Eternal Heavens, descended alongside the fairy. You, Pig Shizhu, should get off your horse and kneel right now!” Lu Hu widened his eyes to intimidate him.

An Shizhu burst out laughing, “You’re bluffing—trying to fool a pig? Immortals have their ways. Do you?”

“Come over and see for yourself,” Lu Hu began to set his trap.

“I’ll come! If you’re not an immortal, then this little beauty will be mine.” An Shizhu stopped his horse, waiting for Lu Hu.

Lu Hu urged his horse forward, judged the distance, and touched An Shizhu’s arm with his electric baton, flipping the switch straight to the second setting.

“What are you giving me—ah, heavens, ow!” An Shizhu stared curiously at the pitch-black baton just as he was struck, letting out a gut-wrenching scream. Like a stone hurled from a catapult, he flew into the air and landed heavily in the snow a yard away.

With a thud, he crashed into the ground, leaving a large crater, only half his body sticking out of the snow.

The scream was so anguished and distorted it barely sounded human. Up ahead, Yanalie turned her head in shock, her almond eyes wide, her soft pink lips parted in astonishment.

An Shizhu convulsed violently in the snow, his fat trembling like a sieve, mouth agape but unable to utter a sound—suffering beyond all measure.

Yellow slowly stained the snow beneath his thighs, and a strong starchy odor filled the air. He had lost control completely.

The sight was too comical; even the compassionate Yanalie couldn’t help but cover her mouth and giggle.

Lu Hu laughed with abandon, his laughter taking on the braying of a donkey.

“Donkey-bray, what did you do to him? Even the warhorse collapsed, you went too far…” Yanalie gently reproached Lu Hu.

The electric current was too strong, and the big black horse was affected as well, lying down to recover, silently nursing its wounded spirit.

Lu Hu spread his hands, looking innocent: “I didn’t do anything—this rascal must’ve been struck by heaven’s wrath, maybe lightning.”

“How could there be lightning on such a clear day? I didn’t hear any thunder.” Yanalie, honest at heart, looked up at the sky—deep blue, not a cloud in sight.

“Sometimes thunder strikes out of nowhere. If it doesn’t strike Pig Shizhu, who else would it strike? You just didn’t notice.”

Lu Hu lied without batting an eye.

“Really? Is that true?” Yanalie’s clear eyes were full of innocence; she chose to trust Lu Hu.

After a while, An Shizhu stopped shaking, lying still like a small mound of meat.

Lu Hu strolled over, deliberately stepping in deep snow to coat his boots, then gently pressed them to An Shizhu’s face.

The snow gradually melted, leaving An Shizhu with a mottled face.

He shivered, finally catching his breath, and slowly opened his tiny green bean eyes, staring up at Lu Hu in a daze.

Lu Hu removed his foot, squatted down, and lightly patted his fat cheeks. “How do you feel, comfortable?”

An Shizhu was meek and innocent, squeezing out two words from his throat, “Comfortable.”

“Will you ever dream of marrying my little beauty again?”

“No, I won’t, never again.”

“Just follow me obediently. Do as I say.”

“I will, I will. Whatever you say, I’ll do.”

“Not just saying it, but secretly plotting tricks behind my back, right?”

“No, absolutely not. I won’t lie, I won’t scheme.”

“Remember, don’t act smart anymore. Acting smart gets you struck by lightning, understood?”

“Understood. I won’t act smart anymore, don’t want to be struck by lightning, boo hoo…”

Mentioning lightning, An Shizhu began to cry, tears streaming down his face.

Lu Hu watched his small eyes closely. At this moment, those innocent puppy eyes spelled out a giant “obedience”—genuine, honest, without a trace of falsehood.

He was satisfied—a loyal lapdog had been tamed!

Once a stray dog is subdued, he needs a reward. Lu Hu gave him a radiant smile with a gentle tone. “Get up, it’s time to move on.”

An Shizhu flailed like a turtle on its back, using all four limbs but failing to get up, panting heavily.

Lu Hu grabbed his shoulder and hauled him to a sitting position.

An Shizhu was sticky and wet below, feeling miserable.

He didn’t dare look openly at Yanalie, but couldn’t help sneaking a glance with the corner of his eye.

The little beauty wore a mocking smile.

It was over—he’d lost face in front of the beauty, utterly disgraced.

An Shizhu glanced down at the yellow stain beneath him and sighed deeply.

No man would ignore his dignity before a woman, and now, not only dignity but all self-respect was gone.

With the divine methods of the male god, the female goddess must be equally formidable.

It was best to sincerely revere the immortals—at least he wouldn’t suffer such misfortune again.

As this thought crossed his mind, An Shizhu tucked in his legs, leaned forward, and pressed his hands to the ground in a kneeling pose, facing Yanalie. “Your servant greets the goddess!”

“Rise, be at ease,” Yanalie said, delighted, assuming a goddess’s manner, though she wondered if her act was convincing.

The majestic black stallion had almost recovered, pawing the ground and neighing out its grievances:

All day I’m burdened by this fat man, laboring and tossed about—what did I do to deserve such suffering?

Lu Hu guessed that the large bundle on the horse’s back probably contained An Shizhu’s change of clothes.

“We’ll go ahead. Change your clothes and catch up with us,” Lu Hu said considerately.

“Thank you, master.” An Shizhu was moved to tears; the pungent odor below was unbearable, even if he pinched his nose. He feared his bits would be soaked and ruined—what joy would be left in life then?

“Little darling, do you miss home?” Lu Hu probed gently.

“What do you think! You troublemaking wild donkey, now my father and brothers don’t want me anymore—all because of you!” Yanalie pouted, swinging her little fists at him.

“Ow! Ow! That hurts, stop it!”

“Hey, the bag you’re carrying looks nice. What’s in it?”

“A fun machine. When we go home, I’ll let father and brothers enjoy it, too. How’s that?”

“Really? You’re so filial. And you brought a chicken—is it alive? Be careful not to suffocate it. Let it out so it can have fun too.”

“This one’s not an edible chicken. It’s a battle machine that makes people howl and laugh, and when it gets excited, it pees.”

“What are you talking about, all this nonsense? I won’t listen to you anymore—get lost!”

“How can I get lost, little darling? Should I roll in the snow now? It’d be embarrassing to roll in all this snow—better to roll in bed with you tonight!”

“Ugh, shameless! Who wants to roll in bed with you? Go roll by yourself!”

“Ah, darling, don’t you want a little wild donkey? How else can we make one if we don’t roll in bed together?”

“The more you talk, the more outrageous you get! I’ll twist your ear!”

But Yanalie didn’t actually twist his ear, for An Shizhu had already changed clothes and ridden over to catch up.

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As they neared Tiger’s Mouth Fortress, they found the gates guarded by double sentries, weapons in hand, as if expecting an enemy.

The fortress horn sounded, and soon a squad of border soldiers rushed out, bows drawn, ready to shoot.

Something was off—the Great Sheng Army was always proud, never so cautious at their own gates.

My electric weapons can only fight in close combat. Against arrows, they’re useless!

Lu Hu raised his hand.