Early morning sunlight filtered through the curtains.
As usual, Ji Yingran prepared to take the dog and the cat out for a walk. In the past, whenever she brought them out to play, the cat and the dog would bounce around with excitement. But lately, for some reason, neither of them wanted to leave the house.
The moment they spotted the leash in Ji Yingran’s hand, they bolted—one hiding under the bed, the other under the sofa. No amount of calling could coax them out; they flatly refused to budge.
“Come on, let’s go play,” Ji Yingran said, hands on her hips, her face full of bewilderment. “I’m taking you out for fun, not to the vet. What’s gotten into you two? How did you suddenly turn into such homebodies, hunkering down like shut-in cats and dogs?”
No matter what she said, the cat and the dog stayed firmly hidden, refusing to emerge.
Ji Yingran shook her head helplessly and set the leash aside. If they didn’t want to go, there was no point forcing them.
The instant she put the leash down, the two pets emerged from their hiding spots under the sofa and the bed.
Their message was clear: as long as they didn’t have to go outside, everything was fine.
Ji Yingran stroked the Golden Retriever’s head and then petted the cat. Suddenly, a figure flashed through her mind.
Waist-length silver-white hair, a delicate face, and those unique golden pupils that were impossible to forget at a glance.
Were they refusing to go out because of her?
What kind of existence could make animals feel such fear? Either a profoundly wicked villain or…
The white-haired woman was sharp-tongued, rude, and oddly behaved, but she was definitely not some great evil.
Having ruled out the first possibility, only the second remained: in the eyes of animals, the white-haired woman was an overwhelmingly powerful being.
Just like how cats and dogs instinctively feared a tiger.
Ji Yingran had resisted this conclusion many times. She simply couldn’t connect such a cute wolf with someone so utterly annoying.
But she couldn’t deny her lingering suspicion that the white-haired woman was indeed the Snow Wolf.
Because of that doubt, Ji Yingran had always taken a tolerant view of the woman’s bizarre actions and unprovoked insults.
Shaking her head, Ji Yingran cleared her thoughts. No point dwelling on it now.
With the walk canceled, she had extra time. She brewed herself a pot of tea and carried it to the gazebo in the yard, settling in to enjoy the flowers and sip slowly.
The late autumn morning carried a faint chill in the breeze, a harbinger of approaching winter.
The chrysanthemums in the yard were in full bloom, cluster after golden cluster. Petals from the white camellias by the gazebo blanketed the ground, filling the air with a subtle floral fragrance.
Every flower and plant in the yard had been planted by Ji Yingran’s own hands, blooming in their seasons through spring, summer, fall, and winter.
She had few hobbies: cooking was one, tea tasting another, and gardening the third.
She finished her cup and checked the time. It was nearing nine o’clock—she needed to head out.
Ji Yingran tidied the gazebo, returned to the house, and changed into a light gray knit sweater paired with a pale white pleated skirt. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, enhancing her already gentle demeanor.
Before leaving, she checked herself in the mirror, dabbing on a touch of lipstick. The subtle makeup suited her perfectly.
As she headed out the door, she gave the cat and dog a pat. “I’m off to work. You two be good while I’m gone.”
Ji Yingran strolled along the neighborhood streets and spotted her from afar.
She had grown accustomed to these encounters. Every time she stepped out, she ran into the white-haired woman. If a day passed without seeing her, Ji Yingran would actually feel something was off.
Ahead on Cypress Road, a puddle had formed, no one knew why. The white-haired woman was walking right through it.
She seemed deeply disgusted by the water on the ground, taking slow steps and shaking her foot after each one.
The motion was bizarre. A normal person would hurry across a puddle they couldn’t avoid.
But not her. She ambled along deliberately, shaking her foot with every step.
It was downright odd.
Yet if you imagined her as an animal, it made perfect sense. Cats did the exact same thing when crossing damp patches: one step, one shake of the paw.
Ji Yingran thought of the Snow Wolf. Back in the mountain cave, surrounded by a pile of firewood that the Snow Wolf had found too dirty to step on, she had lifted her paws awkwardly, nowhere safe to place them. The image was strikingly similar to the white-haired woman right now.
“Hey!” the white-haired woman suddenly barked.
But she wasn’t calling to Ji Yingran—she was yelling at a passerby.
In a haughty, commanding tone, she demanded, “Why is this place all wet and soggy?”
The passerby blinked in confusion but answered reflexively, “I don’t know.”
The white-haired woman flew into a rage. “You don’t know? Why don’t you know? You walked through here—did you pour this water? Did you make this mess so filthy? Disgusting! You heartless slob with no sense of decency!”
Disgusted by the dirt, she lashed out at the innocent pedestrian.
The passerby quickly realized she was unhinged and wanted no part of it. He quickened his pace and hurried away.
Standing there, Ji Yingran spun on her heel, eager to make her own escape.
Too late. The white-haired woman had already spotted her and called out from behind.
“Ji Yingran.”
Ji Yingran paused slightly and turned, surprise flickering across her face. “You know my name?”
The white-haired woman trudged through the soggy patch, shaking her foot with each step until she finally reached Ji Yingran. She shook off the last drops, straightened up, and forced her voice into a chilly tone. “Of course I know your name. Surprised?”
Without waiting for a reply, she clasped her hands behind her back and tilted her chin up at a precise forty-five degrees.
The picture of contrived arrogance took shape.
“Given my status, digging up your name—or any dirt on you—is child’s play. If I want to know, no one’s beyond my reach.”
Ji Yingran watched her in silence.
The white-haired woman’s demeanor and words gave off a strange vibe… like she was putting on an act.
A cheesy performance straight out of some outdated domineering CEO drama.
The feeling was uncanny. At first, Ji Yingran wondered if she was imagining it. Then the white-haired woman faltered.
“Woman, you have successfully… successfully… successfully…”
She stalled mid-line, probably forgetting her script.
Ji Yingran helpfully prompted, “caught my attention.”
The white-haired woman’s eyes lit up. “Right. You have successfully caught my attention.”
As the words left her mouth, she sensed something off and narrowed her eyes. “You stole my line.”
Ji Yingran stifled a laugh. “No, I didn’t. Go on.”
“Go on with what? Do I even know you?”
“But haven’t I caught your attention already? Doesn’t that mean you know me now?”
The white-haired woman choked, then stomped in frustration. “Shut your mouth. So much pointless chatter—it’s giving me a headache.”
Ji Yingran obligingly mimed zipping her lips.
The white-haired woman shoved one hand in her pocket, tilted her chin up at that same ridiculous angle, and struck the pose again. God knows where she’d picked it up.
It was utterly ridiculous.
“Since you know my name, fair’s fair,” Ji Yingran said. “Shouldn’t I know yours? What do you go by?”
“I…” The white-haired woman nearly blurted it out before catching herself. She kept her chin raised. “Why would I tell you my name? You’re not worthy.”
There it was again—not worthy.
“Never mind, then. If you don’t want to say, forget it.” Ji Yingran had only asked casually; she wasn’t pressing.
“But if you really want to know, you could beg me,” the white-haired woman amended instantly.
Ji Yingran’s eye twitched. She hadn’t cared that much before, but now curiosity piqued just to shut this down—or avoid another meltdown.
Better to play along and dodge the hassle.
Feigning interest, she said, “Really? If I beg, will you tell me?”
The white-haired woman snorted coldly. “Begging doesn’t guarantee you’re worthy. But go ahead, try.”
“Please?”
Another cold snort. “Still not worthy.”
Ji Yingran was done with the game. She turned to leave.
The white-haired woman caught up immediately. “Where are you going? Keep begging. One more time, and maybe I’ll tell you.”
“…”
If this woman pulled this routine every morning, she had better be Wolfie. Otherwise, Ji Yingran would feel like a fool for humoring a lunatic day after day…
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Fine. Please, pretty please—will you tell me your name?”
She’d begged twice now, expecting success at last. Instead, the white-haired woman lifted her chin again and scoffed. “You’re still not worthy.”
Round and round it went—forcing endless pleas, only to dangle the prize and snatch it away.
Ji Yingran had had enough. With a smile, she said, “I’ve got to get to work. We can play again after I get off, okay?”
The white-haired woman’s eyes bulged. “Who said anything about playing with you? Plenty of people would kill to hang out with me. Like I’d miss you?”
Ji Yingran nodded in full agreement and kept walking without breaking stride.
The white-haired woman trailed right after her, step for step.
As they passed a stretch of pooled water, the White-Haired Woman began flicking her feet again. Every time one landed in the water, she shook it off immediately—only to shake again the moment it splashed once more.
The motion was utterly comical.
Muttering all the while, she grumbled under her breath, “So dirty, so dirty, so gross…”
Ji Yingran let out a light chuckle. “If it’s that dirty, why not hurry over here? All that foot-shaking is just wasting more time.”
The White-Haired Woman paid her no mind and kept on flicking away until she finally cleared the flooded patch.
She bolted straight to the front at once—she had to lead the way. No way was she letting Ji Yingran pass her.
Ji Yingran trailed along behind. Then, out of nowhere and without the slightest warning, she called out, “Wolfie.”
The White-Haired Woman—who had been charging ahead—halted mid-stride and instinctively whipped her head around to look.
Two seconds of silence followed.
Realizing her mistake, the White-Haired Woman snapped her gaze forward again and picked up her pace, hurrying on even faster as if that could somehow cover up her slip.
Ji Yingran watched the whole sequence unfold, a faint smile curving her lips while her expression softened without her even noticing.
