Today is like a dream come true! I was just worried about not having enough oil to fry the rabbit for dinner, and now a perfectly good "oil-producing" animal has appeared before my eyes.

Badger meat is also considered a delicacy. I ate it once at my uncle's house, and it tasted pretty good, somewhat similar in texture to chicken and beef. It was firmer than chicken, but more tender than beef.

This may be because they like to eat fruits and some plant tubers. Of course, they are omnivorous, and they will also eat some delicious and juicy insects such as grasshoppers and cicadas.

The most valuable part of them is the badger oil, which has moisturizing and soothing effects, and promotes wound healing.

It has particularly good medicinal value in treating burns; when used to treat burns, it can even prevent scarring.

In addition, it has the effects of killing parasites and moisturizing the intestines. It can be taken internally to replenish qi and blood, kill parasites and moisturize the intestines, which helps promote intestinal peristalsis and can be used to treat constipation.

I really found a good one today, but this thing is just as wary as those timid beasts. As soon as it senses any threat, it will run away without a trace.

Now I can only hide here and wait patiently. Once the hog badgers feel that the surrounding environment is safe, they will relax again.

We're probably only about 20 meters apart right now. If it just shows a little bit of its body, I can shoot an arrow at it.

As for whether it will be fatal, I'm not too worried. Even if it only hits one leg and slows it down, it's not a big problem.

After all, I have a raptor waiting nearby. Don't be fooled by how lazy it is, dozing off all day long. As long as it involves hunting, it will fly over immediately when I call it.

I had already set up my crossbow and was patiently waiting for the badger to appear.

After a while, the badger stopped moving. Then the tapping sound came again, this time accompanied by the rustling sound of mud and sand falling into the grass as it rooted in the soil.

Judging from the sound, it must have discovered some plant tuber, or it might be pushing out the roots of thatch grass to eat.

However, I think the latter is more likely. After all, since I came here, apart from taro, a high-yield crop, I haven't found any other root vegetables.

Given that badgers have a sweet tooth, it's probably rooting up cogon grass roots. Who knows how long this guy will eat like that? And if it's cogon grass roots, there's plenty of that stuff here.

I doubt it will even show up after it's full. If it finishes eating and doesn't appear, then just walks away, wouldn't I have wasted my time waiting here for nothing?

This is absolutely unacceptable. If we don't get this done today, we'll probably have to make do with roasted rabbit or boiled meat for dinner.

I thought about it and wondered if, since it was so alert, I could make some noise to pique its curiosity.

With that in mind, I already had an idea. There were many tender green leaves around me; if I rolled them up, I could make a whistle with a clear and melodious sound.

My second uncle used to take me up the mountain to make whistles using this method to imitate the calls of thrushes and lure them into pre-set traps.

At that time, the Second Master used a black bird net with very fine silk thread, which was propped up in the forest with bamboo poles.

Second Master was a seasoned bird catcher; he could perfectly mimic the provocative calls of a male thrush using leaves.

As soon as a thrush hears this sound, it will even fly over a mountain to find the source of the sound, only to be caught in a bird net set up along the way.

Second Uncle also relied on this bird-keeping skill, taking these ornamental birds to the town market to sell in order to support his family.

Of course, the leaf can't only imitate one kind of sound; the technique and rhythm of breathing will affect the change in timbre.

However, the sound of leaves is quite crisp and suitable for imitating bird calls. My second uncle can imitate the calls of more than ten kinds of birds.

I learned a little bit of it at first; it's a skill that requires a lot of practice and reflection to master. However, I think I've managed to grasp some of its pronunciation techniques.

This time, I'm not going to imitate birdsong, but rather the higher-pitched chirping of cicadas.

I paused for a moment, then curled my tongue slightly into a narrow slit – this was just the first step in producing a high note.

Then place your lips on one-third of the way down the edge of the rolled-up leaf, making slight contact with the edge of the leaf.

Then you need to think about how to exert force when the cicada makes its sound. You need to use a relatively rapid, subtle force to blow the leaf in your hand in order to produce the cicada's unique high-pitched sound.

I took a deep breath, then used my inner abdomen to force the airflow like a swift arrow to strike the thin blade in my hand.

"Hiss~"

The leaves emitted a sharp, somewhat off-key screech, like a lawnmower. But it caught the attention of the badger, who stopped eating and looked up to listen intently.

I adjusted the angle and the frequency of the force to make the sound more melodious.

"Hiss... hiss... hiss..."

A series of complete cicada chirps rang out, so realistic that they could be mistaken for real cicadas if one did not listen closely.

At that moment, the badger raised its head, clearly recognizing the sound, but it was puzzled as to why there were cicadas, which usually appear in summer, at this time of year.

But animals are animals after all; it couldn't possibly have imagined so many unusual things. All it knew for now was that there was an insect it liked to eat not far away.

Without the slightest hesitation, the badger grunted and walked towards me.

I then blew out a few cicada chirps intermittently to attract the badger's attention.

Just when I thought victory was in my grasp, fate played another trick on me, and an untimely gust of wind blew past me.

The wind was blowing in the direction the badger was located. My heart skipped a beat. Badgers not only have keen hearing, but their sense of smell is even better than a dog's.

The thought had barely formed in my mind when I saw the badger on the other side of the bushes preparing to turn around.

In that moment of panic, I disregarded whether I could take it down with one arrow at this distance and aimed at the forefoot, the part of its body most vulnerable to being shot.

"Whoosh!"

Almost the instant the badger turned around, a sharp arrow whistled through the air and hurtled towards them.

"Hmph!"

A high-pitched, shrill squeal, like a pig's grunt, rang out; it seemed the person had been shot by an arrow.

I was overjoyed; now you can't escape. I put away my crossbow and rushed towards the badger that had been hit by an arrow.

When the badger saw someone chasing it, it immediately started running wildly across the grass on three legs.