Chapter 48: Name

Name: Who Allowed You to Touch?!

Ji Yingran’s gaze fell upon her, her eyelashes quivering faintly as gentle ripples stirred in the depths of her eyes.

Meeting such a look, the wolf who was already basking in smug satisfaction grew even more carried away, the whole of her floating blissfully on air.

This two-legged beast had surely fallen under this wolf’s irresistible charm. She must like this wolf even more now.

But a wolf would never take a liking to a weak little human.

Not qualified. Rejected.

After slightly reining in her smugness, she noticed that Ji Yingran’s gaze was a touch off.

It didn’t seem like pure adoration. Why was the look so strange?

Strange in what way?

The white-haired woman couldn’t put her finger on it at first. Not until she absently brushed at her hair and felt the fluffy ears atop her head.

Ah!

Ears!

How had her ears popped out?!

She hurriedly retracted them and shot the human a vigilant glare. “You saw?”

Ji Yingran didn’t even have a chance to reply before she preempted her. “You didn’t see.”

Ji Yingran let out a breathless laugh. “Mm, I didn’t see.”

Her words claimed as much, but Ji Yingran’s eyes lingered on the wolf all the same—or more precisely, on what trailed behind her.

That strange look persisted. Strange how?

Once again, the white-haired woman didn’t catch on at first. Not until she glanced over her shoulder.

Ah!

Tail!

How had her tail come out too?!

She had let her smug delight carry her too far, losing control entirely. Her ears had emerged, and the tail had followed suit.

Ji Yingran half suspected that a little more gloating might turn her half-human, half-wolf—or straight into her wolf form altogether.

“You saw?” After tucking her tail away, the white-haired woman tried the same ploy. “You didn’t see.”

Ji Yingran nodded with a soft hum. “I didn’t see.”

She had exposed herself completely, yet she stubbornly clung to her denial. Perhaps it wasn’t stubbornness so much as lingering resentment toward the human, making her unwilling to admit she was a wolf.

Ji Yingran wanted to explain why she had left so suddenly, why she had never returned. But for the moment, she didn’t know quite where to begin.

She was still sorting through her words, pondering the best way to broach it, when the white-haired woman wandered off to devour the bread.

With all the employees dismissed, the shelves were now stocked mostly with subpar loaves made from inferior flour. They were edible enough, but nothing like the quality from before.

The shop had closed for the day anyway, so a room full of bread was hardly a problem. Waste was the last thing on anyone’s mind—there might not even be enough to satisfy the wolf.

The white-haired woman worked her way from the left side of the room to the right, from one end to the other, like a mouse that had tumbled into a rice vat and forgotten all about home in her bliss.

She ate at such a ferocious pace that, had there been any customers around, they would have sworn they had spotted a demon.

Of course, she was a demon anyway.

Ji Yingran settled at the register, her gaze soft and affectionate as she smiled and watched her eat.

But as she smiled, a hint of awkwardness crept in, freezing the expression on her face.

This wolf had a certain “bad habit.” Whenever she ate, she always saved the last bite for the human…

It took only moments for five such remnants to accumulate on the countertop.

Precisely that—a mouthful each, the very bites she had left from her own teeth.

She didn’t do it with every loaf. Only the ones she truly savored would she leave that final bite behind.

It showed she still had the human in mind, graciously sharing the best with her.

Ji Yingran glanced at the five bites on the table, her brow arching ever so slightly. This wolf could really pack it away—and those five flavors happened to be the shop’s top sellers.

For all that she devoured anything and everything without discrimination, biting into whatever caught her eye, she could still tell good from bad. She knew precisely which ones were the tastiest, and which merely passable.

The sixth remnant arrived as the white-haired woman brought it right over.

Ji Yingran parted her lips, hesitating to speak.

The white-haired woman planted herself in front of the register and eyed the untouched bites with open confusion.

What was this two-legged beast playing at? Why wasn’t she eating?

Ji Yingran tried to phrase it delicately. “You really don’t need to save any for me.”

The white-haired woman’s hand slammed down on the table. “Eat! Eat it now!”

Ji Yingran startled at the abrupt smack. “Gently, now.”

Another resounding slap followed. No gentleness whatsoever.

“Wolf,” Ji Yingran explained with a gentle smile, “in human society, if you like something and want to share it, you give them a whole, untouched loaf—not just the last bite.”

Bang!

Her hand crashed down again. One more like that, and Ji Yingran feared the counter might give out.

“What nonsense! Who’s a wolf? Not me!”

With that, the white-haired woman snatched up all six bites and shoved them into her mouth, chewing with gritted teeth.

Ji Yingran assumed she would move on to the rest of the bread. Instead, the wolf delivered a fierce kick to the counter and plopped down onto the floor.

She sat there with her back to the human, cheeks puffed up in anger.

This damn two-legged beast, prattling about giving a whole new loaf, claiming that’s how humans did it—pah! This wolf saw right through her. She was disgusted by this wolf.

The damn two-legged beast got the very best bread, and still she rejected it. Had she forgotten who her head wolf was? The head wolf distributed the food…

No more dealing with her.

Not qualified.

Negative score! Negative score!

She was angry. Furious!

Ji Yingran approached from behind and crouched down, lightly patting her shoulder.

The white-haired woman jerked away violently, a low whine escaping her lips—every bit of it radiating fury.

Ji Yingran circled around to face her, but the white-haired woman whipped around on the spot, refusing to meet her eyes.

Ji Yingran prodded her back. “Sorry. Don’t be mad at me. I misspoke earlier. I apologize.”

The white-haired woman turned back around.

Ji Yingran thought the apology had worked, but instead, she bared her teeth with a ferocious snarl.

Teeth bared, she spun away once more, presenting only the back of her head.

Ji Yingran sighed inwardly and picked up a nearby half-eaten loaf. She stepped in front of her and took a deliberate bite right in plain view.

“See? I ate bread you’ve bitten too.”

The white-haired woman shot her a glance, then eyed the bread in her hand. Suddenly, she leaned in close and took a bite from it herself.

The abrupt nearness—that flawless face mere inches away, accompanied by the faint, cool scent of pine—left Ji Yingran momentarily stunned, her expression freezing.

The white-haired woman saw nothing amiss in it. She pulled back after her bite, her chin tilting up and down pointedly: my bite, now yours.

Ji Yingran struggled with this manner of sharing food, but then she reconsidered. In a wolf’s world, this might be an act reserved for one’s most intimate companions.

Only with those she cherished deeply would she share in this way.

To refuse would surely wound her.

Unwilling to disappoint, Ji Yingran took a bite under her expectant gaze.

Only then did the tension ease from the white-haired woman’s face.

So the two-legged beast didn’t mind after all. She still recognized her head wolf. That was more like it. Add a few points—but still not qualified.

“Wolf.”

“I’m not a wolf.”

“Alright, alright, you’re not a wolf.” Ji Yingran reached out and stroked her head, just like old times.

The white-haired woman didn’t resist. It felt natural enough, after having grown accustomed to it.

But realization dawned quickly, and she swatted the hand away.

“What do you think you’re doing? Who gave you permission to touch? Now it’s all dirty.”

“My hands are perfectly clean.”

“Doesn’t matter. No touching.”

She fixed Ji Yingran with an angry glare, her eyes narrowed distrustfully.

Ji Yingran withdrew her hand and met that gaze steadily, letting out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry.”

The white-haired woman blinked, her glare faltering in confusion. Why was this human apologizing again? Sorry for what?

“I left too hastily back then. I didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye.”

Silence fell over the white-haired woman. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“You saw the words I left on the ground, didn’t you?”

She remained quiet.

“I promised I would come back to see you. But half a year has passed, and I have to admit it—I never made plans to go. Even when the urge to visit bubbled up now and then, I never acted on it. I broke my promise.”

At those words, the corners of the white-haired woman’s mouth tugged downward. Her whole demeanor drooped.

“I thought about making excuses at first, some reason or another. But in the end, I decided I’d rather be honest with you.”

The wolf kept her head lowered, avoiding the human’s eyes as she stared at the floor. Ji Yingran knew she was listening, though—and waiting for this very explanation.

Taking a deep breath, Ji Yingran voiced her truest feelings. “I never went to find you because I was afraid. We humans are so small, so utterly insignificant in the face of that snow mountain.”

“I wanted to go back for you, but seeking you out would mean danger—facing that snow mountain again. My desire to see you wasn’t enough to make me ignore the risks entirely.”

“I’m sorry, Wolfie. Humans just aren’t like animals, with emotions so pure and uncomplicated. Sometimes, we weigh the pros and cons.”

The white-haired woman finally lifted her head and shot the human a quick glance.

Ji Yingran rattled off a long string of words, but the White-Haired Woman only caught four of them.

Weigh the pros and cons. That was an idiom.

What was that supposed to mean? Was this two-legged beast showing off that she knew idioms? So damn smug.

As if she were the only one. This Wolf knew idioms too, okay? Who wasn’t a cultured wolf these days? Hmph…

Ji Yingran reached out and gently stroked her head. “Although I couldn’t muster the courage to come see you, I’m really happy that you came to see me.”

The White-Haired Woman tilted her head. “Happy can be over the moon, grinning from ear to ear, one’s heart bursting with joy, dancing for joy, laughing uncontrollably…”

Ji Yingran blinked. “Huh?”

Why had she suddenly started reciting idioms?

After rattling off a whole string of them, the White-Haired Woman lifted her chin with a smug flourish.

This Wolf knew tons more idioms. Those were just the tip of the iceberg.

Wait—the tip of the iceberg. That was an idiom too.

Hahaha! So impressive. This Wolf was amazing. The two-legged beast had to be floored.

Ji Yingran was indeed floored, completely baffled by whatever the White-Haired Woman was up to.

Whatever. Best to just keep petting her head, soothe her a little.

The White-Haired Woman didn’t stop her. Perhaps that recent apology had done the trick; the wolf’s attitude had softened noticeably, losing some of its prickly edge.

Her explanations about the broken promise might not have fully satisfied the wolf, but they carried a touch of sincerity—enough to chip away at her anger.

“Wolfie, can you forgive me?” Ji Yingran gazed at her hopefully.

The White-Haired Woman met her eyes. Two seconds passed, and then she said, “Who’s Wolfie?”

Ji Yingran fell silent.

Even now, she refused to admit it.

“If you don’t want me to call you Wolfie, then what should I call you? You won’t even tell me your name.” Ji Yingran gave her a helpless look.

“Are you hitting on me? Lame pickup line.” The White-Haired Woman eyed her up and down with open disdain.

Ji Yingran stared. “?”

What the hell? How had asking for her name turned into flirting? Was that really a thing?

Well, maybe. The wolf’s train of thought had always been bizarre—one minute spouting profound wisdom like “kindness needs an edge,” the next acting like a total airhead.

“Beg me, and I’ll think about telling you,” the White-Haired Woman said.

Ji Yingran rubbed her forehead. Here we go again.

The White-Haired Woman scowled. “Why aren’t you begging? Hurry up!”

Ji Yingran sighed.

With no other choice, she played along with the childish game. After seven or eight pleas, the wolf finally seemed satisfied.

“My name isn’t for just anyone to know,” the White-Haired Woman declared. “You’re not really worthy, but you look so pitiful begging like that. Fine, I’ll tell you reluctantly. I’m called…”