Xiahou Xuan and Huangfu Xiong had met each other at the age of seven, had seen him clench his fists to beat someone, and had heard him curse people while drunk, but he had never seen this guy, who was clearly talking down about others, still make it sound so pleasant. He slightly raised his eyebrows, somewhat surprised as he looked at his friend before him.
Like a young tiger at the foot of the mountain, sharpening its teeth and honing its fangs, to be ready to kill mercilessly at any moment?
Broken down, this means that although you are a fierce tiger, you are not yet fully grown; your teeth aren't sharp, and your claws aren't lethal; you have yet to taste blood.
In the jargon of the Jianghu, it means, kid, you're still too green. When you say such things, you should raise the corners of your eyes, coupled with a disdainful and arrogant look, and click your tongue twice for added flavor. Speaking so elegantly like this lacks any banditry spirit of the Jianghu.
