“No need to be so enthusiastic about spells.”
Tap… tap… tap…
The footsteps drew closer with every echoing thud, each one sending a shiver through Ji Yingran’s heart.
A long shadow stretched across the ground. That Arctic Wolf had halted at the corner of the passage.
Ji Yingran gritted her teeth, her gaze hardening with resolve. She was ready to stake everything on this moment. Even if she died, she’d go down fighting—grabbing this folding knife and stabbing a few holes into the wolf’s hide.
She refused to die such a pathetic death.
Clutching the folding knife tightly, Ji Yingran braced herself completely. And just then, the wolf at the corner stepped fully into view.
Her raised knife froze midair.
It was indeed a wolf that had entered, but not the Arctic Wolf. Instead…
Clang!
The folding knife slipped from her hand and hit the ground.
Her body went limp as if all strength had drained away, and she collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath.
The Snow Wolf glanced at the fallen woman but paid her no mind. Instead, her black nose twitched incessantly as she sniffed the air.
She caught an unfamiliar scent lingering in the atmosphere—especially strong near the cave mouth. As the Snow Wolf inhaled deeply, her gaze sharpened to a razor edge.
The woman on the ground recovered slightly and scrambled to her feet. With a small sprint, she threw her arms around the Snow Wolf.
“Where did you go? How could you just vanish without a word?” Ji Yingran’s voice trembled.
As she spoke, her nose stung, and her words turned into a sob.
Ji Yingran buried her face in the soft fur at Wolfie’s neck, her tears of lingering fear soaking into the strands.
The Snow Wolf went rigid—from the sudden embrace and from the woman’s crying.
“You scared me to death! Do you know there was another wolf outside just now? She clearly wanted to eat me. If you’d come back even a little later, I really would’ve been devoured!”
The Golden Wolf Eyes narrowed dangerously, a chill of menace creeping into their depths.
Ji Yingran clung to Wolfie and cried for quite a while, all the while grumbling about the wolf’s abrupt disappearance.
Unlike her usual self, the Snow Wolf didn’t resist. She let the woman vent her terror.
Once the tears subsided, the crisp, cold pine scent of the Snow Wolf soothed the fear from Ji Yingran’s heart bit by bit.
Ji Yingran wiped her tears on Wolfie’s fur. Now calm, she felt a twinge of embarrassment. After all, she’d cried pretty dramatically just now.
Thinking back, when was the last time she’d bawled like that? She couldn’t even remember. It seemed like since adulthood, she rarely shed tears. Even on her worst days, she’d always tried to pull herself together.
This was the first time since growing up that she’d let herself wail so unrestrainedly.
But it was fine—no one else had seen. Only a wolf had witnessed it. Losing face in front of an animal didn’t seem like such a big deal.
“Wolfie, it’s a good thing you got back in time. Otherwise, my life might really have been over. That Wolf clearly wasn’t a good one—her eyes were terrifying, like she’d spilled blood before. Not like you. You look like a good wolf.”
Ji Yingran glanced at the patch of fur on Wolfie’s neck, soaked by her tears into a matted clump.
“I’ve gone and dirtied your fur.” A flicker of guilt stirred in Ji Yingran. This Wolf hated having her fur messed up.
She braced for an angry wolf, but to her surprise, the Snow Wolf showed no expression, her mood unreadable.
Ji Yingran was still puzzling over the lack of reaction when the Snow Wolf leaned in close and licked her face.
A soft, pink tongue glided gently over her cheek, carrying a soothing intent.
Ji Yingran froze.
The Snow Wolf licked her again, lightly.
Ji Yingran’s tears turned to a smile. “Are you comforting me?”
Normally, when she asked that, Wolfie would roll her eyes or snort in denial.
But not this time. She didn’t deny it—in fact, she licked again.
Ji Yingran leaned back a little. She knew it was meant to comfort her, but being licked by a wolf felt strange. Her face was covered in slobber now, and it was a bit much to take…
“Okay, okay, I get it. Your comfort’s received loud and clear. I’m not scared anymore. No more crying. See? Not a single tear.”
The Snow Wolf tilted her head, eyeing the woman with concern, as if weighing the truth of her words.
Ji Yingran immediately flashed a brilliant smile. “Really! I was terrified just now, but Wolfie, you came back right on time. With you here, I feel totally safe.”
The Snow Wolf ignored her and leaned in to lick again.
Ji Yingran: “…”
Too enthusiastic. Dodging outright might hurt Wolfie’s feelings, so she had no choice but to endure this “sweet” ordeal.
Just then, a whoosh erupted behind her, making her shoulders jolt.
Earlier, to scare off the Arctic Wolf with fire, Ji Yingran had lit a bunch of firewood. She’d only meant to make the flames bigger and hadn’t paid attention to anything else. In that short moment of neglect, the fire had spread to the entire nearby pile.
Whoosh!
Flames shot skyward, a wave of heat blasting her face.
Ji Yingran recoiled in fright.
Snapping to her senses, she instinctively lunged forward to smother the blaze. But the fire grew fiercer by the second, spiraling out of control.
No, no—this was too big to put out now. Ji Yingran made a snap decision: grab the valuables and run!
She dashed back to the corner first, stuffing the crucial satellite phone into her pocket. Then, in a frantic rush, she crammed a few other essentials into her bag.
Ji Yingran scrambled to salvage her things, but the Snow Wolf just watched the chaos, utterly oblivious to the danger.
“Quit watching and run! The fire’s huge!”
She still wanted to grab more—these supplies were vital for her half-month stay here—but with the flames closing in, she couldn’t risk burns for mere gear. Gritting her teeth, she abandoned the rest.
And yet the wolf was still just watching…
Ji Yingran grabbed a fistful of fur at the Snow Wolf’s scruff and dragged her toward the exit.
When had the Snow Wolf ever been hauled by her scruff? Her wolf eyes went wide.
Shock.
What was this human doing? How dare she grab the Head Wolf’s scruff! Outrageous! Utterly outrageous!
Ji Yingran had no clue about her thoughts. With the fire raging and the wolf rooted in place, what else could she do but yank her scruff?
What an unintelligent wolf. She couldn’t even run from danger. Did she want to end up as roast wolf?
“Why are you so hard to budge? Don’t be stubborn now—come on, let’s get out!”
One second she was urging the wolf along; the next, something occurred to her. Her eyes flicked to the deepest part of the Mountain Cave.
The firelight illuminated her pursed lips and hesitant expression. Finally, she clenched her jaw, braved the flames, and dashed back inside, heedless of the risk.
She had to grab Wolfie’s blanket too. That Wolf cherished it so much. If it burned up, Wolfie might shed little pearls of grief.
Snatching the blanket in a hurry, she whirled around. The roaring fire… was gone.
Gone?
Huh?
The uncontrollable inferno from moments ago had vanished, leaving only wisps of blue smoke and half-burnt wood.
Cough, cough, cough.
Ji Yingran fanned the air, dispersing the smoke before her eyes.
She stared blankly at the scene, her mind short-circuiting.
How had the fire extinguished in an instant? Was that even possible?
Her gaze slowly shifted to the Snow Wolf. That Wolf was eyeing the messy Mountain Cave with disdain, one front paw lifted as if the filth left nowhere clean to step.
Had she put out the blaze?
There was only one human and one wolf in the cave. Ji Yingran was certain she couldn’t have snuffed it out so suddenly herself. That left only this Wolf.
Ji Yingran’s lips parted halfway, at a loss for where to even begin questioning.
Still reeling in shock, she felt the blanket slip from her hands. The Snow Wolf had snatched it away.
The Snow Wolf nosed around, picking a barely clean spot, and dropped the blanket there.
Not only did the Snow Wolf have a mild clean streak, she seemed to have a touch of OCD too. After placing the blanket, she pawed at it insistently until it lay perfectly flat.
Ji Yingran gradually snapped out of her daze. “Wolfie, how did you do that? How did the fire just go out?”
The Snow Wolf kept pawing at the blanket until it reached perfection.
“You… weren’t… I mean, the fire—it extinguished…” Ji Yingran’s words tumbled out incoherently.
She’d always known this Wolf was extraordinary. She understood human speech, had high intelligence, could warm up the Mountain Cave, and brought back food that shouldn’t exist here.
But none of that compared to the shock of the fire vanishing in a blink.
That was the stuff of legends—from TV shows and novels. Immortal magic.
No, it was a wolf—maybe demon magic?
Ji Yingran shook her head. No, that wasn’t the point. Immortal or demon magic, it didn’t matter. The key was that this Wolf could cast spells.
She was now one hundred percent sure. This Wolf knew spells!
Ji Yingran: “How did you do it? Can you show me again? I missed it—I turned around, and poof, the fire was gone. I want to see you cast the spell. Please do it once more?”
Her face lit up with excitement and anticipation.
The Snow Wolf shot her a sidelong glance: As if. Why should I perform for you? No way.
“That firewood’s still smoking—it’s choking. Put out the smoke too, quick, quick—cast the spell!”
The Snow Wolf snorted coldly: No chance.
Ji Yingran: “Wolfie, come on, pretty please? I’m dying to see it.”
The Snow Wolf remained unmoved, ignoring her no matter what.
Two minutes later, after countless silent refusals, the Wolf’s eyes fixed on the smoldering firewood. A faint golden light flickered in their depths.
The smoke vanished.
Along with it came Ji Yingran’s awed “Whoa!”
The Snow Wolf lifted her chin slightly. An ignorant two-legged beast, making such a fuss.
Ji Yingran scampered to the wolf’s side, excitedly tugging at her fur. “Whoa, Wolf, you’re so awesome! You can actually use spells? Oh my god!”
She usually put on such exaggerated displays to coax the wolf, but this time she was genuinely shocked, exclaiming “whoa” nonstop.
“Whoa, whoa whoa whoa! That’s incredible! So unbelievable!”
Ji Yingran kept tugging at the wolf’s fur, sighing in endless admiration.
She wasn’t sure if it was shedding season for the wolf, but she hadn’t pulled hard—yet after a couple of tugs, her hand came away with a fistful of fur.
Ji Yingran’s delighted expression turned to alarm. She froze for a moment, then silently slipped her hand behind her back.
The Snow Wolf growled menacingly. What are you doing, yanking out my fur like that? A whole chunk gone! Hateful creature! See if I don’t rip out a tuft of yours!
The Snow Wolf’s gaze fell on the human’s neatly tied black hair.
Ji Yingran clutched her hair protectively and took a step back. “I didn’t mean to! You can’t pull my hair—you’re the Head Wolf. You need to show some dignity.”
The Snow Wolf glared at her in fury, but eventually tamped down the rage. She had more pressing matters to attend to right now and wouldn’t stoop to squabbling with this two-legged beast.
