Chapter 14: Footsteps

Footsteps: Wolfie was back.

She had gone back and forth countless times.

Ji Yingran took a deep breath, realizing her current state was no good. She needed to find something to distract herself, to shift her attention.

Her gaze fell on a rock outside the cave.

The rock was half-covered in heavy snow, exposing one flat side.

Ji Yingran walked over and touched the smooth surface. Then she brushed the snow away bit by bit, revealing the stone’s full shape. It was perfect for use as a stool.

Sitting on the ground inside the mountain cave was their usual routine, but a stone stool would make resting far more comfortable.

She bent down, gripped both sides of the rock with her hands, and heaved it upward.

The stone lifted a fist’s height off the ground before thudding back down with a heavy thump.

It was too heavy. She couldn’t lift it. Several attempts yielded the same result.

Ji Yingran paused for a moment in thought, then flipped the stone over. Using a rolling push, she maneuvered it back into the cave.

The irregular shape made even this efficient method exhausting. Before long, she was drenched in sweat.

With Herculean effort, she finally rolled the stone inside the cave.

Did she really need this stone as a stool? Of course not. She just wanted something to pass the time.

Sweat pouring down her face, Ji Yingran was burning up. She shed her waterproof shell jacket and stripped off two inner layers before resuming her task.

Outside, besides the snow, there were rocks everywhere—stones of every shape imaginable. She could haul in as many as she wanted.

Braving the wind and snow, she selected rocks from the drifts. Whenever she found a suitable one, she wracked her brains for a way to transport it back to the cave.

Back and forth she went, toiling away.

In the end, she dragged in three stones: one for a stool, one for a low table, and the third to hold the spice bottles.

After fussing with their positions, she arranged the spice bottles and pot on the stones. Task complete!

She wiped the sweat from her forehead, stepped back, planted her hands on her hips, and nodded in satisfaction.

Not bad. This little kitchen was starting to look the part.

With everything tidied up, Ji Yingran found herself idle once more. Her eyes drifted unconsciously to the cave mouth.

Snow Wolf still hadn’t returned.

Ji Yingran sat on her stone stool, her expression glum.

Snow Wolf had been gone far too long this time foraging for food. Last time she caught those fish, it hadn’t taken nearly this much time, had it?

Ji Yingran wasn’t entirely sure which trip had been longer. Either way, it felt like forever—an eternity that left her pacing the cave in restless anxiety once again.

Perhaps she should haul in more rocks. Or maybe melt some snow for drinking water. Or… anything, really. She needed to keep busy instead of just waiting.

Waiting was torture, especially in this oppressively silent, barren wasteland.

Unable to help herself, Ji Yingran wandered to the cave entrance yet again. She peered out into the blizzard, just as she had done so many times before. Nothing.

No sign of the figure she longed to see amid the swirling snow.

She lingered at the mouth for a few minutes before the biting wind became too much. Shivering, she shrank back her neck and retreated inside.

She unpacked a fresh gas canister, hooked it to the stove, and lit it. The pot was filled to the brim with snow.

Seated on her stone stool, Ji Yingran stared blankly at the dancing flames, watching the snow in the pot gradually melt into water.

The water came to a boil, steam rising in billows.

She glanced at the cave mouth once more, then dejectedly looked away.

Pulling herself together, she turned off the gas, extinguishing the flame. Without its light, the cave plunged into gloom.

She lifted the pot lid, letting the boiled snow water settle for a bit before pouring some into a disposable bowl. Cupping it in her hands, she blew on it and took small sips.

The pot had previously been used to cook fish. Though she’d scrubbed it with snow, the boiled water still carried a faint taste of fried fish oil and salt. It wasn’t pleasant.

Before, she’d savored hot water like a luxury. Now, it brought her no joy.

With her mood so heavy and uneasy, how could she enjoy anything? Her mind raced with worries: Why hadn’t Snow Wolf returned? When would she come back? Had something dangerous happened?

She let out a long sigh.

Clang!

Ji Yingran jumped, spilling some of the water.

The sudden noise in the silent, dim cave was terrifying.

Her breathing grew ragged. She swallowed hard and peered toward the sound. Once she made out what it was, her tensed body relaxed slightly.

A spice bottle had toppled off the stone—it hadn’t been placed securely.

It had scared her half to death. She’d thought something had entered the cave. If it had been a snake, she might have keeled over on the spot. She hated those slimy, slippery creatures the most.

Logically, there couldn’t be snakes on a snow mountain with temperatures dozens of degrees below zero. But Ji Yingran had a deep psychological shadow from them.

Back home, snakes had invaded her living room several times—and it was always the same one. Snake repellent powder hadn’t worked. That snake kept dropping by uninvited; she couldn’t keep it out.

She still remembered it clearly: an ugly little green snake that had even made off with her bag.

Ji Yingran still couldn’t fathom why a snake would steal a bag.

She shook her head, banishing the horrifying memory. Just thinking of that snake gave her goosebumps all over…

She picked up the spice bottle and set it back in place.

She resumed sipping her water. The bowl emptied quickly with her tiny sips.

One bowl filled her up; she had no appetite for a second. She set the remaining water aside for later thirst.

Then it was back to sitting on the stone stool, staring into space.

Time crawled by unbearably.

Ji Yingran tried to nap. She went to Snow Wolf’s blanket and usurped the nest, lying down and closing her eyes to court sleep.

She didn’t feel cold when awake and moving, but lying still like this brought a slight chill.

She put her discarded clothes back on, wrapped herself in the blanket, shut her eyes, and forced herself to sleep. If she could drift off, time wouldn’t drag so much.

At first, sleep eluded her. Gradually, drowsiness crept in.

In her hazy state, she heard a crunching sound.

She couldn’t tell if it was a dream or reality at first—until the crunching grew louder and clearer.

Ji Yingran’s eyes snapped open. She bolted upright and pricked up her ears.

Crunch.

No doubt about it!

Footsteps in the snow.

She scrambled to her feet, not even pausing to shake off the blanket wrapped around her. She hurried toward the cave entrance.

Outside, the snowstorm raged even fiercer than before, visibility less than half a meter in the blinding flurries.

Squinting into the whiteout, Ji Yingran called out, “Wolf, is that you back?”

Snowflakes whipped back in response, swirling into her mouth and nose, freezing her to the bone.

She strained her eyes and ears. Nothing—only the howl of the wind and snow. No footsteps.

Had she just imagined it?

Ji Yingran’s shoulders slumped, her spirits plummeting.

With heavy, disappointed steps, she turned to head back inside.

But at that very moment, the crunch of footsteps sounded again from the blizzard—clear and unmistakable.

Ji Yingran froze, then whipped around toward the source of the noise.