Chapter 69: Wolfie’s Diary

Wolfie’s Diary: She actually got mad at me!

Mu Ci crouched beside the recliner, clutching a pen in her fist like a club in a most unorthodox grip. Her handwriting came out crooked and messy, looking more like abstract scribbles than actual words.

Even so, it was still legible enough to make out what she’d written.

[Two-Legged Beast today is another unqualified day.]

The notebook labeled “Head Wolf Revenge Plan” got several entries like this every day, and they all started with that same line.

[Two-Legged Beast gave this wolf a gift today, but this wolf doesn’t like it. Just some crappy phone. Unqualified.]

[She even stuffed the phone full of photos on purpose—first tempting this wolf with food pics, then with selfies.]

[Her intentions are as clear as day, and she’s got all sorts of tricks up her sleeve.]

[Unqualified!]

Today’s installment of the “revenge plan” was done—a whole rambling paragraph that had taken her ages to finish, thanks to her awkward writing style.

She’d struggled with several characters along the way, smudging and scribbling over them until they became shapeless black blobs, one after another.

She filled an entire page with the chaos.

Not content to stop there, she admired her handiwork, nodding in approval.

“This wolf is so cultured. Calligraphy—this is proper calligraphy right here.”

Mu Ci gazed smugly at the page smeared with ink blobs.

Flip forward in the “Head Wolf Revenge Plan,” and the two most frequent words jumped out: Two-Legged Beast and unqualified.

Another page back.

[Two-Legged Beast today is another unqualified day. She fed me steamed buns for breakfast—they weren’t tasty—and then took me for snacks, but those weren’t tasty either…]

One more page.

[Two-Legged Beast today is another unqualified day. She actually snapped at this wolf and tried to chase me away, telling me to go back to Snow Mountain. That damn Two-Legged Beast!]

Right there, the paper was punctured in several spots from her furious jabs, showing just how pissed off she’d been.

[Even though she apologized to this wolf, I’m not forgiving her. Grudge level: plus one. Noted for payback.]

[When Two-Legged Beast was showering, I peeked twice. She didn’t seem thrilled about it. Pfft, nothing special anyway—not that good-looking. This wolf wasn’t even that interested, okay?]

[Her mouth is all soft and squishy, but not as good as Jelly…]

[…]

Every page was crammed full, chronicling her daily moods, but they all ended with the same verdict: unqualified.

And at the top: I hate Two-Legged Beast the most.

If it wasn’t exactly a “Head Wolf Revenge Plan,” then it was at least “Diary of Feelings About Two-Legged Beast.”

Mu Ci was lost in admiration of her “calligraphy,” positively beaming, when she suddenly sensed something. Her nose twitched, and her ears flicked.

Whoosh—the diary was tossed onto the recliner, and the wolf who had been crouching beside it vanished.

In the bathroom, steam filled the air, carrying the faint tea scent of body wash. Ji Yingran was taking a shower.

She didn’t usually bathe in the morning, but there was no choice today. The cats and dog at home were terrified of the wolf scent on her, and she was covered in wolf fur besides—itchy as hell. She had to wash it off.

Hot water cascaded down from above, streaming over her pale skin. Ji Yingran scrubbed away, humming a cheerful tune under her breath, utterly relaxed.

Thud!

Ji Yingran jolted. Her song cut off mid-note, and the towel slipped from her hand to the floor.

The bathroom’s sliding window had been shoved open from the outside with brutal force.

Sunlight poured in, along with a white-haired woman tilting her head in rapt curiosity.

The wolf had come to watch the human bathe. Better late than never—she wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Ji Yingran scrambled for the towel on the floor, hastily covering herself. She gritted her teeth. “Wolf, I’ve told you so many times—people don’t appreciate spectators when they’re bathing.”

Mu Ci shrugged it off. “Then you shouldn’t touch this wolf’s belly either, but you have.”

Ji Yingran: “…”

A few belly rubs, and she’d nag about it forever.

The wolf ignored her protests, peering more intently than ever. An outsider might think she was studying some profound thesis, head cocked to one side as she watched.

Ji Yingran stepped over to shut the window.

Mu Ci slapped a hand on it, holding it open.

Ji Yingran glared. “Let go. I need to close the window.”

Mu Ci gave her a quick once-over, then pursed her lips with a scoff. “Nothing worth seeing anyway. Unqualified.”

Thud—the window slammed shut with wolfish force.

Ji Yingran’s eye twitched. She locked it immediately, just in case.

But then she realized it was pointless. That wolf could teleport in anytime she wanted; doors and windows were irrelevant.

The easygoing shower vibe was ruined. Ji Yingran grew tense, half-expecting the wolf to pop up inside at any moment.

She shut off the showerhead, dried off, and threw on clothes in a rush.

The moment she stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed, there was Mu Ci—uninvited as always—standing on the living room sofa.

Yes, standing right on it, leaving two muddy shoeprints behind.

The wolf bared her teeth toward one corner.

Ji Yingran followed her gaze. The three cats and one dog were huddled there, frozen in terror.

“Wolf! What are you doing? Why scare them?!”

Mu Ci retracted her teeth, shot Ji Yingran a glance, and snorted. She lifted her chin arrogantly and strode off.

Ji Yingran hurried to the corner to comfort the traumatized pets.

They already trembled at the mere whiff of Mu Ci’s scent. This time, with the wolf baring her fangs in person, the fear was dialed up several notches. The poor things were practically catatonic.

It took ages of soothing before their panic began to fade.

No doubt about it—a few more scares like that, and they’d develop real issues.

Ji Yingran tolerated a lot from her, but terrorizing the pets? That crossed the line. It had to stop.

She’d already spooked Lady Ou that morning, and now this.

Getting way out of hand!

She grabbed their favorite treats and fed them until they calmed down. Then, taking a deep breath, she headed to the neighboring courtyard in Building 9.

Today, she was hashing this out. The wolf had to ditch these bad habits.

Fuming, she shoved open the unlocked courtyard door—Mu Ci never bothered with locks.

No sign of the wolf in the yard. After peeking on the shower and terrorizing the pets, she’d retreated to her room like nothing happened.

Ji Yingran started toward the house, but her gaze snagged on the recliner—and a battered notebook lying there.

She vaguely remembered it: the cover read “Head Wolf Revenge Plan.” Round it off, and it was basically the wolf’s diary.

What secrets did it hold? The thing was always tucked in her pocket, all wrinkly now.

Curiosity tugged her closer.

She reached out and picked it up, but moments later, she set it back down with a sigh.

No. As tempting as it was to peek at the wolf’s “revenge” schemes, this was Wolfie’s private stuff. She couldn’t invade her privacy.

Ji Yingran had just squashed the urge and returned the notebook when Mu Ci emerged—and caught her red-handed.

Whoosh—she lunged over and snatched it away.

“Damn Two-Legged Beast, you were peeking!” Mu Ci accused hotly.

“I didn’t look.” Ji Yingran defended herself.

Mu Ci stuffed the notebook back in her pocket, eyeing her warily.

Ji Yingran managed a helpless smile. But then she remembered the real issue at hand. Her expression sobered.

“Wolf, you can’t scare Jelly and the others anymore. They’re timid little things. Frightening them like that could trigger stress responses, and small animals are fragile. A bad stress reaction might even kill them. It’s serious.”

Mu Ci ignored her completely, flopping onto the recliner and closing her eyes to bask in the sun.

Ji Yingran stood by her side.

Mu Ci waved her off. “Go away, go away. You’re blocking this wolf’s sun.”

Ji Yingran didn’t budge.

Mu Ci cracked her eyes open in annoyance.

The face before her was stern and unyielding, staring her down in silence.

Two-Legged Beast was mad…

Mu Ci’s impatience faltered. Her ears flattened back, and her gaze darted away, avoiding eye contact.

After a tense few seconds, she pouted. “Fine, fine, I get it. Geez, I won’t scare them anymore. Happy now?”

Damn Two-Legged Beast—yelling at this wolf over those pathetic weaklings!

I’m ignoring her!!

Ji Yingran took in every twitch and shift, puzzled at first why she’d backed down so suddenly. Then it hit her…

Had she gone cold on the wolf without realizing?

Ji Yingran hadn’t meant to. She’d just been mulling how to get through to her, and in deep thought, her face must have hardened a bit.

Who knew an accidental stern look would cow her?

Ji Yingran turned away to hide her glee. Jackpot—she’d found a way to rein in this wolf!

In the past, Ji Yingran had no way to rein in this wolf. She could only let her curse at people and cause all sorts of trouble. But now, Ji Yingran had made an unexpected discovery: the wolf actually feared a cold expression from her.

Once she put on that cold face, the wolf would actually compromise. She would actually obey.

What a major discovery!

Ji Yingran straightened her back, cleared her throat, and turned around to face the figure lounging on the chaise. “You can’t just scare cats and dogs. You also can’t scare my mom, got it?”

As she spoke these words, she deliberately kept her expression stern and her face icy cold.

She poured every ounce of her limited acting talent into this moment.

Mu Ci met those cold, piercing eyes. Her ears drooped flat, and she reluctantly swallowed the retort that had been on the tip of her tongue.

Ji Yingran maintained her icy facade on the surface while secretly laughing inside. She hadn’t expected this trick to work so well.

A few minutes later, the wolf pulled out her diary. Her ears remained flattened the entire time, and an aggrieved expression colored her features as she scribbled furiously on the page.

[Lowly Human, hateful Two-Legged Beast! She’s ignoring This Wolf now. She’s being mean to This Wolf!!]