Zhao Jun spoke crudely. He always said Black Tiger had a one-track mind for food—that when it was time to eat, he'd scarf everything down, not even caring about his own life.
Xue Limin didn't know any of this. Hearing Zhao Jun's words, he secretly sucked in a breath of cold air. 'If that dog is really so fierce, it sounds too incredible.' But what Zhao Jun said was also perfectly logical. If it hadn't been chased by a dog, the boar would still be resting in its den. Why would it have run this far?
Still in shock, Xue Limin strode to the edge of Turtle Pit.
The pit had been dug by road maintenance workers last winter. Over the past six months or so, it had become overgrown with grass. Now that autumn had arrived, the blades were turning yellow, but with Xue Limin's keen eye, he could see traces of the boar's recent thrashing in the pit.
Moreover, judging by the mess in the pit, he knew the boar had struggled there for quite some time.
