Chapter 36: Gone

Half a year later…

It was early morning, the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn.

“Wolf.”

The Snow Wolf, who had been heading off into the distance, turned back at the sound of her voice.

Ji Yingran stood at the mouth of the mountain cave. Her long black hair draped messily over her shoulders as she yawned sleepily, clearly having just woken up.

“Are you going out hunting again? Why do you always leave so early? Take me with you this time, okay?”

The Snow Wolf’s tail thumped against the ground, her refusal plain to see.

Ji Yingran rubbed her bleary eyes and didn’t press the issue. She had only asked casually, never really expecting agreement.

If there had been no satellite phone, no hope of rescue, she would have shamelessly tagged along regardless of the wolf’s opinion.

But now, with an escape route available, she wasn’t so desperate. If the wolf said no, she wouldn’t force it.

“Got it. You don’t want to bring me along. You’re going out for food, but you don’t have to head out at the crack of dawn every time. Sleep in a bit—the pig from yesterday isn’t even finished yet. No rush.”

Ji Yingran might not have been in a hurry, but the Snow Wolf certainly was. She took a step forward to leave.

“Wait,” Ji Yingran called out, stopping her. “Eat the pig if you want, but I need to put in an order too. The rice is almost gone. Can you bring back some more this time?”

The Snow Wolf’s expression remained impassive, neither agreeing nor refusing.

“If you don’t say anything, I’ll take that as a yes. You love porridge too, you know. I don’t care—you have to bring back some rice. Buns or steamed buns would work if you can manage it. Noodles are fine too. I won’t be picky about flour.”

Ji Yingran rattled off her order with dead seriousness.

The Snow Wolf lifted her head in cold arrogance. This Wolf isn’t bringing back a single one of those. The Head Wolf distributes the food. Whatever the Head Wolf brings is what you eat. You don’t get to be picky.

Ji Yingran kept listing her requests, progressing from buns and noodles to cola, fried chicken, and spicy hot pot.

In this frozen wasteland, the thought of a steaming bowl of spicy hot pot was almost too indulgent to imagine.

Ji Yingran continued her nonstop ordering, but the Snow Wolf had already turned and walked away, ignoring her endless chatter.

Only then did Ji Yingran realize what had happened. She shouted after her at the top of her lungs. “Go quick and come back safe! You can skip the other stuff I ordered, but you have to bring rice. People need rice to eat, got it?”

The Snow Wolf was irritated. She glanced back at the human. So noisy.

Not qualified.

The unqualified human grinned and waved at her. “Bye-bye~”

The Snow Wolf’s gaze lingered on her face for a moment, a flicker stirring in her eyes. But it was quickly replaced by disdain.

Ugly. Not qualified.

“I said bye-bye to you, so you have to say bye-bye back. Wave your paw.”

The Snow Wolf scoffed, rolling her eyes out of habit before sauntering away with elegant cat-like steps. She left behind a cold yet fluffy silhouette.

Ji Yingran shook her head with a smile. She was long used to this dismissive attitude.

As usual, she stood at the cave mouth, watching the wolf until her figure vanished completely from sight.

She wrapped her clothes tighter around herself and turned back into the mountain cave.

Halfway there, she paused and looked up at the sky.

The sun was just rising in a cloudless expanse. The sky seemed exceptionally clear.

The weather looked good today. Sunshine occasionally broke through on normal days, but it was usually accompanied by thick clouds and unrelenting cold winds.

Today, there wasn’t a cloud in sight.

Ji Yingran held out her hand, feeling the air. The wind was much gentler than usual—barely even noticeable.

She pressed her lips together, considering whether she should contact the rescue center.

After waiting outside a bit longer to confirm the wind was truly light and the weather stable, she headed back into the cave to retrieve her satellite phone.

She had just pulled it out, not even powering it on, when faint sounds drifted in from outside.

Had the wolf come back?

No, that didn’t sound right. The noise seemed to be coming from above, from the sky.

Ji Yingran perked up her ears and listened carefully.

The vague sounds grew clearer and closer, until they were right overhead.

“Bzzz…”

“Bzzzz…”

What was that? It sounded like…

The rapid whir of helicopter blades chopping through the air!

Ji Yingran’s grip tightened on the satellite phone, her eyes bursting with elation. She forgot everything else and bolted outside.

She raced to the cave entrance and looked up immediately. High above, a helicopter gleamed into view, hovering directly overhead.

Her breath caught for a second, her hands shaking with overwhelming joy.

She quickly composed herself, pulling out of the shock, and waved frantically.

“Here! Over here! Someone’s here! Help!!”

Her voice echoed through the snow-covered mountains but was soon swallowed by the vast wilderness.

The roar of the helicopter’s blades drowned out all her cries.

No one on board noticed her.

Panic and urgency gripped Ji Yingran. She had to make them see her. She couldn’t let this chance slip away.

An idea struck her. Without hesitation, she dashed back into the cave and dug out the flashlight she had salvaged from her backpack long ago. Her hands trembled as she decisively switched it to strobe mode.

The flashlight’s beam was blindingly bright.

She ran to an open clearing and waved the strobe light wildly. Its piercing light cut through the air far better than her shouts ever could.

Ji Yingran kept waving the flashlight and yelling at the top of her lungs. Her arms grew sore, her voice hoarse, as she exhausted every method to catch their attention.

But things didn’t go as hoped.

The helicopter passed overhead and slowly flew off into the distance.

All Ji Yingran’s efforts left her standing alone, helpless and at a loss.

She could only watch, powerless, as the helicopter grew smaller and smaller…

She collapsed dejectedly into the snow.

Just then, the fading whine of the rotors began to grow louder again.

Ji Yingran looked up. The helicopter that had been leaving was turning back!

Hope reignited. She sprang to her feet and waved the flashlight frantically once more.

Someone on the helicopter spotted her. It circled above her head, descending slowly. She could even make out figures waving back at her.

With a metallic clank, the rescue ladder dropped down.

Ji Yingran watched in delight as the downdraft from the rotors whipped her clothes wildly.

The helicopter descended lower until her hands could reach the ladder.

Almost on instinct, she grabbed hold of the climbable rungs.

But the moment her fingers touched the cold metal, a thought flashed through her mind. She glanced back in a certain direction.

To avoid any accidents, to prevent any mishaps, she should climb up right now—immediately, without hesitation, without wasting a single second.

This was the rescue she had longed for day and night. She could leave this insanely dangerous, terrifying place at last.

But…

Ji Yingran’s hand silently withdrew from the ladder.

She couldn’t just slip away without a word. What if that wolf came back and couldn’t find her? She’d worry, wouldn’t she?

Ji Yingran bit her lip, thinking for a second. She picked up a nearby stone and hurried back to the cave mouth, scratching four words into the ground in a hurry.

Gone. Will return.

There was no time for more. Scrawling even that much had taken effort.

She had no idea if the wolf could read, but it seemed like the only farewell she could manage now.

This hard-won rescue chance wouldn’t wait. After leaving those scant words, she grabbed the dangling ladder.

Climbing was arduous, the howling rotors deafening, the ladder swaying wildly in the wind.

Ji Yingran clung tightly, pushing down her instinctive fear of heights, ascending rung by rung.

At the helicopter door, someone reached out to her.

Ji Yingran looked gratefully at the stranger and took the offered hand.

Finally, she was leaving!

Once safely aboard and settled, she peered through the window at the vast white world below.

The snow mountains rose in endless jagged peaks, vast and perilous, stretching to the horizon.

She scanned carefully, searching for that familiar figure.

Nothing.

The mountains were too immense; she couldn’t spot a thing.

Perhaps she should be glad the Snow Wolf was away. Her existence was so extraordinary—being seen by others might not be good.

Leaving quietly like this, without causing her any trouble, was probably a stroke of luck.

The joy of rescue was inexplicably tinged with an indescribable sense of loss.

She hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye to the Snow Wolf, and that left some regret.

She had said she’d come back if she got the chance, but when would that be? Did she even have the courage to climb these mountains again?

It was all uncertain. Her promise might never come true.

This parting might be forever.

Those words—”Gone. Will return”—were just wishful thinking.

Ji Yingran sighed softly and turned her gaze from the window.

Goodbye, Wolfie.

Lady Ou rushed over the moment she heard the news.

Her steps were hurried. From afar, she spotted that familiar, slender figure. The tension she had held for so many days finally eased.

Ji Yingran took a deep breath and walked up to her mother, her heart swelling with emotion and a heavy pang of guilt.

She was almost thirty, yet still causing her mom so much worry. Truly unfilial.

Lady Ou, who always loved dressing up, now had a button on her thick cotton jacket fastened all crooked.

Lady Ou, who usually kept her hair neatly pinned up, now wore it disheveled and loose.

Lady Ou, who was always radiant and full of life, now looked utterly exhausted.

“Mom,” Ji Yingran said, her voice thick with tears, “how did your hair turn all white like this?”

Lady Ou laughed and scolded her, “Because your mom loves to stay fashionable—dyed white hair is all the rage these days.”

Ji Yingran threw her arms around Lady Ou.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re back—that’s all that matters. You’re back, that’s what counts.”

Mother and daughter embraced in silence for a long moment, until Lady Ou suddenly piped up: “And what’s this? You’ve put on weight around your waist?”

Ji Yingran froze for a second, then let out a choked laugh, tears turning to mirth.

By all rights, after being trapped for so long, she should have been skin and bones from starvation. But That Wolf had taken excellent care of her.

During her time stranded on Snow Mountain, she hadn’t suffered much at all. If anything, she’d been quite pampered—not thinner, but actually a pound or two heavier.

It was all thanks to Snow Wolf. She wondered if she’d ever get the chance to repay that wolf for saving her life.

Before leaving the Arctic, Ji Yingran stood in an open expanse and cast one final, lingering glance at the endless Snow Mountain.

Reluctant as she was to leave Snow Wolf behind, that reluctance wasn’t enough to keep her here any longer.

Ji Yingran grumbled inwardly at her own heartlessness. What was this, if not abandoning a pet cat she’d raised herself…?

No, there was a difference. From start to finish, it had been the wolf caring for the human, not the other way around.

Her emotions churned in a complicated tangle, too messy to articulate.

“Ranran, time to go.”

Lady Ou’s urging voice came from behind her.

“Alright, coming.”

Ji Yingran pulled her gaze away, turned, and walked off—without looking back.

Half a year later.

Ji Yingran had just wrapped up work. Days upon days of overwork had left her absolutely reeking of office drudgery.

Her temples throbbed painfully.

She’d taken this job purely out of passion, but now it had consumed her life with no room for retreat, leaving her mentally and physically exhausted.

The past six months had been a relentless grind of nonstop work and headaches.

Ji Yingran rubbed her temples as she walked down the street in her neighborhood, heading home.

Someone barreled straight into her from the front.

Along with a faint whiff of cool pine.

“Hiss!”

Ji Yingran clutched her bumped shoulder and sucked in a sharp breath.

Seriously—was this person’s shoulder made of iron or what? How could it be that hard? One bump, and she was in agony.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, Ji Yingran looked up in bewilderment.