Wu Song had just downed eighteen bowls of wine at an inn not far from Jingyang Ridge. He walked unsteadily, dragging his cudgel behind him, about to head toward the ridge. The innkeeper ran out after him, shouting: "You can't go! You can't go! There's a tiger on the ridge recently—it's already killed twenty or thirty people!" Wu Song merely smiled and said, "Don't try to scare me. Even if there really is a tiger, I'm not afraid!"
Still drunk and emboldened by the wine, Wu Song strode boldly to the foot of Jingyang Ridge. There, he saw a large tree, part of its bark scraped off, revealing two lines of writing: "Recently, a tiger has appeared on Jingyang Ridge. All travelers are advised to cross the ridge in groups at midday." Wu Song laughed and said, "This must be some trick by the innkeeper to frighten people into staying at his inn. What do I have to fear?" Disregarding the notice, he continued dragging his cudgel up the mountain.
He hadn't gone half a li when he came upon a dilapidated temple. On the temple gate was posted an official notice from the county office. After reading it, Wu Song finally believed there was indeed a tiger. He considered turning back, but after a moment's hesitation, muttered to himself: "What's there to fear? Since I've come this far, I might as well go and see for myself."
It was early winter, the days were short and the nights long, and darkness fell quickly. Wu Song saw nothing unusual along the way and muttered again: "Clearly, people are just afraid of their own shadows, too scared to climb the mountain—where could there be any tiger?"
After walking a while, the wine began to take effect, making him feel hot all over. He loosened his shirt with one hand and headed straight into a thicket of tangled trees. Seeing a large, smooth bluestone, he casually set his cudgel aside and was about to lie down and sleep when suddenly a fierce wind blew. Then—*whoosh!*—a huge, white-browed, golden-eyed tiger leapt out from behind the rocks and trees. Wu Song cried out in alarm, quickly rolling off the stone, snatching up his cudgel, and darting aside. The hungry and thirsty tiger lightly pressed its front paws against the ground and lunged fiercely at Wu Song. Wu Song was startled, breaking into a cold sweat—his drunkenness vanished instantly.
It happened in the blink of an eye. As the tiger lunged, Wu Song swiftly dodged and slipped behind it. Tigers have difficulty turning to see what's behind them, so it planted its front paws on the ground and heaved its body upward in a powerful thrust. Wu Song dodged again, slipping to the side. The tiger missed, roared loudly—like thunder splitting the sky—shaking the earth and mountains. Then, it whipped its iron-bar-like tail in a sweeping blow. Wu Song quickly dodged to another side. In truth, a tiger's attack consists of three moves: a lunge, a heave, and a sweep. When these three fail, its ferocity is greatly diminished.
Failing to strike Wu Song, the tiger roared again and lunged once more. Seeing the tiger turn and charge, Wu Song raised his cudgel with both hands, summoning all his strength, and brought it crashing down from midair. There was a loud *crack!*—but instead of hitting the tiger, he had struck a dead tree, splitting his cudgel in two. Only half remained in his hand. Enraged, the tiger growled, opened its huge mouth, and lunged again. Wu Song leapt back, retreating over ten paces. The tiger's front paws landed right in front of him. Wu Song threw the broken cudgel aside and, seizing the tiger's head with both hands, slammed it forcefully to the ground. The tiger struggled fiercely, but Wu Song kicked wildly at its face and eyes. In agony, the tiger roared and scraped up two piles of yellow earth beneath its body, forming a pit. Wu Song pressed the tiger's mouth into the pit of dirt and kicked it some more. By now, the tiger had little strength left. Wu Song clamped his left hand tightly on the beast, raised his right fist like a hammer, and pounded it with all his might. After sixty or seventy blows, blood spurted from the tiger's eyes, mouth, nose, and ears. It had only a faint breath left and could not move at all.
Still fearing the tiger might not be dead, Wu Song found the broken cudgel and struck it a few more times. Seeing that the tiger had no breath left, he finally threw down the cudgel and crossed the ridge.