Ji Yingran’s gaze lingered on her inquisitively.
A cascade of silver-white hair draped casually over her shoulders, reaching down to her waist. Upon closer inspection, the texture of her hair was unlike that of an ordinary person.
Her golden pupils and excessively pale skin were the same—nothing seemed amiss at first glance, but a closer look revealed something off.
Yet when Ji Yingran tried to pinpoint exactly what was different, she couldn’t quite say.
Ji Yingran’s eyes fixed on the woman’s face: a delicately sculpted oval with sparkling almond eyes and a high, refined nose bridge.
Charming. Lively.
If not for those bizarre behaviors, Ji Yingran would never have linked her to a lunatic.
The woman before her was far too exquisite, so perfect that Ji Yingran almost imagined her as a flawless doll displayed in a shop window.
Of course, that assumed one ignored her wolfing down food and rolling her eyes.
But it was precisely that voracious eating and her penchant for eye-rolling that sowed seeds of doubt in Ji Yingran’s mind.
“Wolfie?”
Ji Yingran called out tentatively, her eyes locked on the woman’s face, scrutinizing every micro-expression for clues.
But there was nothing. The woman showed no reaction whatsoever.
She responded to the name “Wolfie” as if hearing it for the first time.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Ji Yingran’s heart, though it quickly faded. This had been an impossible notion from the start.
She lacked the courage to venture back up Snow Mountain to check on it, yet here she was, half-hoping that Snow Wolf had transformed into human form and come down to find her.
The idea was utterly absurd.
Snow Wolf had many inexplicable traits and could be considered half-demon, but it couldn’t speak, much less take human form.
If it could talk or shapeshift, Ji Yingran would have heard it say something during all her time on Snow Mountain.
With a sigh, Ji Yingran had to admit she still missed that wolf. Once she sorted out the mess at her shop, she’d find an opportunity to go back and see it.
She made the decision quietly in her heart.
Lost in thought, Ji Yingran suddenly felt the cup slip from her hand. The milk tea cup, now empty at the bottom, had been snatched back by the white-haired woman.
“No more milk tea for you. You annoy me just by existing.”
With that, she clamped the straw between her teeth and slurped down the remnants in one go.
After finishing, she shot Ji Yingran another glare.
Ji Yingran stared in bewilderment. What had sparked this sudden anger?
Could it be… because she’d called her Wolfie?
Once the seed of suspicion took root, even if it seemed implausible and was temporarily suppressed, it would keep resurfacing.
This woman was just too peculiar, and her oddities overlapped strikingly with those of Snow Wolf.
“Wolfie?” Ji Yingran tried again.
The white-haired woman showed no response.
“It’s really not you?” Ji Yingran persisted.
The white-haired woman rolled her eyes. “What are you blabbering about? Oh, I get it now.”
Ji Yingran blinked in confusion. “Get what?”
The white-haired woman snorted coldly. “What a turn-off.”
Ji Yingran: “?”
The white-haired woman gave her an up-and-down look. “I’ve eaten a few sweet potatoes from you and had one cup of milk tea. That’s all it takes for you to think I’ll accept your pursuit? Dream on. Total turn-off!”
Ji Yingran: “??”
What on earth? How had this twisted into pursuit? Who was pursuing whom?
She really was a lunatic.
Ji Yingran’s expression grew increasingly strange, prompting the white-haired woman to grumble inwardly:
Why is this two-legged beast looking at This Wolf so weirdly? Did I use “turn-off” wrong?
But isn’t that phrase super popular online for dissing people? This Wolf always keeps up with trends. No, it must be that I didn’t nail it. Gotta study more slang—imprecise wording doesn’t fit This Wolf’s image.
Image is everything.
Irritated, the white-haired woman rolled her eyes at Ji Yingran again and turned to walk away.
Ji Yingran stood frozen, replaying that eye-roll in her mind.
She hadn’t noticed before, but now, paying close attention, she realized the angle was eerily similar to Snow Wolf’s.
“What are you standing there for? Hurry up and follow,” the white-haired woman called, stopping in her tracks with bossy authority.
Ji Yingran followed on instinct. But as she trailed behind, she realized something was off.
Why was she obeying so readily?
“Why are you dawdling? Pick up the pace,” the white-haired woman snapped impatiently.
“Got it.” Ji Yingran hurried to catch up.
At first, they walked side by side. Then Ji Yingran’s strides lengthened unintentionally, putting her slightly ahead.
The moment she edged in front, the white-haired woman reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, darting forward to reclaim the lead.
Ji Yingran was puzzled.
A bit further along, Ji Yingran unwittingly pulled ahead again, and…
Whoosh—the white-haired woman surged past once more.
Ji Yingran didn’t understand at first, but soon she caught on.
The white-haired woman wouldn’t tolerate anyone walking in front of her.
She had to be in front.
This time, rather than finding it odd, Ji Yingran trailed behind, studying the woman’s back with intense focus.
Wolves liked to lead the pack too.
Ever since earning the title of Head Wolf, that wolf had guarded its status fiercely: it distributed the food, it walked ahead on outings, asserting its authority in every way.
The suspicions she’d tried to quash bubbled up again.
Was it her?
Ji Yingran wavered between impossibility and plausibility, her mind in turmoil.
“Why are you lagging again? Like a snail,” the white-haired woman shot back with a glare at the dawdler behind her.
As unreliable as ever.
This two-legged beast sometimes blundered ahead, daring to challenge Head Wolf’s authority, and other times lagged like now, forcing Head Wolf to wait.
Unqualified.
Utterly unqualified.
Negative points!
The white-haired woman gnashed her teeth.
Ji Yingran observed her discreetly, growing more startled with each passing moment. Even her impatience at slow walkers matched Snow Wolf perfectly.
For the third time, Ji Yingran probed: “Wolf?”
The white-haired woman’s round eyes widened. “Why do you keep yapping about wolves? Are you nuts?”
Ji Yingran: “…”
This woman had a foul mouth, cursing at the drop of a hat.
Wait—this explosive temper was just like that wolf’s.
Ji Yingran wanted another chance to test her, determined to get to the bottom of it.
But before she could, the woman ahead halted abruptly, staring intently at something.
Ji Yingran stopped too, following her gaze.
It was an octopus ball stall, with a long line snaking beside it.
She wanted octopus balls again…
That greedy sniff of the air was pure wolf.
The white-haired woman inhaled the aroma, then turned to Ji Yingran expectantly. “Go buy me a portion.”
She’d truly become her maidservant—the commands came so naturally.
Ji Yingran didn’t argue, simply joining the queue.
The white-haired woman crossed her arms, waiting behind her. Impatient by nature, she had endless patience when food was involved.
Seven or eight people ahead, nearly twenty minutes of waiting, and it was almost Ji Yingran’s turn.
Just as she opened her mouth to order, a pot-bellied middle-aged man barged in front.
“Octopus balls for me. Make it quick—I’m in a rush,” he said, taking a drag from his cigarette and exhaling a cloud of smoke.
Ji Yingran covered her nose, frowning as she stepped back.
“Um, everyone’s waiting in line,” she reminded him with a smile.
The middle-aged man took another drag, blowing more smoke, and glanced her way. “I said I’m busy. I go first, you wait. No big deal—quit nagging.”
The people behind voiced their displeasure.
The middle-aged man ignored them, standing his ground without budging.
The secondhand smoke was choking.
Ji Yingran’s lips parted, but she wasn’t good at confrontations and usually swallowed her grievances.
This time seemed no different. Facing an unreasonable man, she had no recourse but to stew in silent frustration.
Bang!
Her frustration had barely ignited when the middle-aged man who had cut in… vanished.
The white-haired woman had appeared out of nowhere, delivering a ruthless kick that sent him tumbling two meters away.
“What do you think you’re doing? Can’t even queue properly? No manners at all,” she huffed, cheeks puffed in anger.
Ji Yingran was stunned. So were the others in line.
The middle-aged man lay on the ground, clutching his kicked side, groaning in pain.
“What are you whining about? Shut up!” The white-haired woman’s golden pupils flashed with impatience.
The middle-aged man staggered to his feet, his face purple with rage. “Fuck your…”
His words were vile and unfit for polite ears.
Even Ji Yingran, mild-tempered and conflict-averse, felt her anger flare at the obscenities.
No matter how annoyed she got, her attacks remained far too feeble, and her comeback was nothing more than: “Why do you have to talk like that? Didn’t you brush your teeth this morning?”
The limp retort had zero impact.
Sure enough, the middle-aged man cursed even more viciously. As he ranted on, he rolled up his sleeves and lunged forward, ready to throw punches.
But in the next instant, the middle-aged man went flying once more.
The white-haired woman lashed out with another kick, sending him tumbling two meters away.
With a heavy thud, he smashed into the ground.
This time, the middle-aged man sprawled there for a good long while before hauling himself to his feet. Having tasted the white-haired woman’s might, he didn’t dare provoke her again.
That was how people were—bullies who preyed on the weak and cowered before the strong. If you looked defenseless, they’d come at you; if you seemed formidable, they’d back off.
Unable to swallow his pride, the middle-aged man stayed back but kept bellowing: “Just you wait! You’d better not leave—stay right here for me!”
The white-haired woman took offense at that. Her eyes flashed with menace as she advanced to kick him again.
Spotting her approach, the middle-aged man bolted, still yelling “wait there” over his shoulder as he fled.
Once the middle-aged man had scampered off in disgrace, the vendor poked his head out from his stall and called out in warning,
“You two had better get going quick. I know that guy—he runs with a pack of drinking buddies. He might really round up a crowd any minute now. Hurry up, hurry!”
Ji Yingran grasped how serious things had gotten. She thanked the vendor in a rush and motioned for the white-haired woman to come along.
Ji Yingran had never been the type to court trouble. She’d always played by the rules, with arguments few and far between—and she’d never so much as thrown a punch in her life.
She didn’t even want to picture it: the middle-aged man returning with a gang to surround them. What a horrifying scene that would be.
She was such a coward…
Ji Yingran had already taken several steps forward when she noticed the white-haired woman hadn’t followed.
By then, Ji Yingran had figured it out. She was a total pushover, while the white-haired woman was her polar opposite—a real firecracker, igniting at the slightest spark.
One shied away from fights; the other sought them out.
“Come on, two fists can’t beat four hands. If he brings reinforcements, we’re bound to come out on the losing end. No point going head-to-head—sometimes you’ve just got to run, okay?” Ji Yingran reached out to tug her arm.
But the white-haired woman might as well have been a statue. She planted herself and wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard Ji Yingran pulled.
Ji Yingran threw up her hands in exasperation. “Are you really planning to wait for him here?”
The white-haired woman shook off Ji Yingran’s grip. “Quit yapping! Who’s waiting for him? Hurry up and buy me something to eat.”
Ji Yingran blinked, realization dawning.
She wasn’t waiting for the middle-aged man at all. She was waiting for the octopus balls…
