Suo Cheng returned to Yunbeishan Zoo carrying his grandfather's portrait, only to find feed supplier Pan Laosi demanding 87,000 yuan in unpaid feed bills and pushing a lynx cage toward the entrance. The cage's welds were rusted through. The lynx slammed against the bars until it bled, while volunteers from the county wildlife protection team filmed the scene on their phones as evidence. He jammed a shovel into the cage door and bent the wire straight. Then he put his lips to the silent copper whistle his grandfather had left behind and called, "Half-eared, sit," three and a half times. His knee hit the cage, and his vision went black. To everyone's shock, the lynx tucked in its claws and sat down firmly on the tire. The wire on the cage sprang back into place. The volunteers changed their livestream title from "Out of Control" to "Tamed." He immediately turned around and demanded to know who had opened the gate for Pan Laosi, and whose hands had held the keys before his grandfather died. But how had a silent whistle made the lynx stop? And what did that shallow one-third mark mean?
