Chapter 7: Friends Part 2

Ji Yingran arched a brow and lightly stepped on her tail.

The snow wolf halted mid-stride and looked back over her shoulder.

“It was an accident, really.” Ji Yingran lied straight-faced, eyes wide as saucers.

The snow wolf’s eyes narrowed.

“Okay, okay, I admit it—I did it on purpose. You wouldn’t wait for me, so I had to resort to desperate measures.” Ji Yingran flashed her a warm, placating smile. “Besides, that’s what friends do—they tease each other.”

With that, Ji Yingran batted her eyes at her.

The orange glow of the sunset fell upon her gentle, serene face.

The snow wolf’s gaze lingered on her face for two seconds. For some reason, she suddenly huffed and looked away, turning to walk off.

Ji Yingran stared in surprise. Every other time she’d stepped on her tail, the wolf would get mad—though it was usually just for show.

But this time, she didn’t even put on that fake angry display. Just a soft huff.

This fierce wolf wasn’t being fierce anymore. She’d gone soft!

Sure enough, it was all about desensitization. Get mad the first time, annoyed the second, and by the third or fourth, she’d accept it.

Ji Yingran was a pro at this domineering tough-love approach with cats and dogs.

If she wasn’t even mad about tail-stepping anymore, how far off could petting her fur really be? Not far at all!

Ji Yingran grinned and scampered over. This time, she didn’t step on the tail—instead, she reached out to grab it.

The snow wolf stopped. Then…

Thwack-thwack-thwack!

The tail whipped across her forehead three times in a row.

It wasn’t gentle, either—enough to leave Ji Yingran dazed. But luckily, though the force was solid, the thick fur cushioned it perfectly. It didn’t hurt a bit; if anything, the sensation was delightful.

Ji Yingran beamed happily.

The snow wolf eyed this human with utter bewilderment.

She was thrilled after getting smacked? Was this two-legged beast insane?

Ji Yingran reached for the tail again, but the snow wolf was ready this time. The instant her hand darted forward, she nimbly dodged, glaring at her with clear irritation.

Ji Yingran grabbed at empty air and pouted.

The snow wolf bared her fangs in a mock snarl. Ji Yingran played along, feigning a startled jump. Satisfied, the snow wolf turned and left.

At the mouth of the mountain cave, the snow wolf shook the snow from her coat. Normally, one shake did the trick, but today she deliberately shook extra hard, her ears flicking all the while as she listened.

One moment they stood straight up, the next they flopped back. They twitched nonstop.

Where were that two-legged beast’s footsteps? She’d been waiting ages—why hadn’t she caught up?

This slowpoke snail human was so annoying.

The snow wolf glanced back irritably.

She’d expected to see the dawdling two-legged beast trailing behind. But there was no one there.

Her golden pupils contracted sharply. With a pitter-patter of paws, she dashed out of the cave, her head swiveling anxiously as she scanned around.

Her gaze locked onto something ten or so meters to the left of the cave.

The snow wolf tilted her head slightly, puzzlement in her eyes.

What was that two-legged beast doing?

Ji Yingran had been following the snow wolf back to the cave, but halfway there, she’d spotted something buried in the snow nearby.

A black strap of some sort—it looked just like her missing…

Backpack!

Her satellite phone!

Ji Yingran’s eyes lit up. Forgetting everything else, she bolted over and yanked at the strap.

One pull—no give. Two pulls—still stuck. The strap was frozen rock-hard in the snow, no different from gripping a block of ice.

When yanking didn’t work, Ji Yingran dropped to her knees in the snow and started digging away the snow covering the backpack with her bare hands.

A thick layer pinned it down tight.

The top was loose powder, easy enough to scoop. But underneath was a solid sheet of ice she couldn’t even pry loose.

Ji Yingran dug for a bit, then had to pause to rub her hands together and breathe warm air on them. Otherwise, the cold made it impossible to keep going.

The sun dipped toward the horizon, dusk settling in. She had to get the backpack out before nightfall.

So cold. Her hands hurt so much.

The snow wolf padded through the snow to stand before her, watching with an expression that said, I’m curious but totally aloof—half-curious, half-not.

Ji Yingran looked up at her and smiled. “It’s my backpack. I thought you’d only brought me back and left the pack behind, but you grabbed it too.”

The snow wolf glanced at the thing she was digging at so furiously.

“Could you help me dig it out?” Ji Yingran gazed at her hopefully.

The snow wolf didn’t budge, her face impassive. No intention of helping.

Ji Yingran held out her hands for her to see. Her slender fingers were red and swollen from the cold, looking utterly pitiful.

“My hands really hurt. The bottom’s all ice—it’s so hard to dig. Good wolfie, please? Help me get it out?”

A ripple passed through the snow wolf’s calm eyes.

Good wolfie? This two-legged beast, throwing around whatever nicknames she wanted. So brazen!

“Woof!”

Ji Yingran’s plea fell on deaf ears, answered only by a growl.

“Fine, fine, no need to snap. You do it your way—I’ll keep digging myself.”

Ji Yingran withdrew her hands meekly and got back to work. Her fingertip jabbed into a sharp chunk of ice below.

“Hiss.”

She winced, clutching her finger and sucking in a sharp breath from the pain.

The snow wolf eyed her finger.

Ji Yingran smiled at her, her tone soft and soothing. “It’s nothing—just a little sting. I’m not hurt.”

The snow wolf shot her a sideways glance, rolled her eyes, and walked off.

Ji Yingran watched the departing snow wolf with a helpless chuckle.

She was almost done digging it out anyway. The pack was frozen solid—she just hoped the satellite phone inside hadn’t been ruined.

Ji Yingran huffed on her hands. Once they’d warmed a touch, she gritted her teeth against the pain and kept digging.

Halfway through, she suddenly felt a force slam into her side from the flank, knocking her half a meter away.

Ji Yingran tumbled into the snow, bewildered. She turned her head and saw the snow wolf standing right where she’d been.

“Why’d you bump me?” Ji Yingran gave a wry smile.

What was with this wolf now? Bumping into her out of nowhere. Had she offended her again?

Before Ji Yingran could ask more, the snow wolf’s front paws churned up the snow in a frenzy. Snow flew everywhere, turning the spot into an instant blizzard.

Ji Yingran scrambled back to avoid getting buried.

Ten seconds later, the snow wolf stopped.

Ji Yingran peeked over. The backpack she’d struggled so long to unearth? The snow wolf had dug it out effortlessly.

Ji Yingran rushed forward, but her first move wasn’t to check the pack. Instead, she thanked the snow wolf profusely and sincerely.

Mainly because the wolf stood there with one paw planted firmly on it, chin held high—like she was openly demanding thanks before handing it over.

“Thank you.”

The snow wolf’s paw stayed put on the pack, her chin still tilted proudly.

Ji Yingran had learned her ways by now. This meant her thanks were too skimpy, just like before when she’d only called her tail “nice” and “pretty.”

“Wow, you’re amazing! Thank you so much for helping me. Without you, I never would’ve gotten this backpack out. I’m so glad you’re here—you’re the best, super best!”

After this lengthy praise, the snow wolf finally seemed appeased. Her chin lowered, and she lifted her paw from the pack.

With a light nudge of her paw, she kicked it over to Ji Yingran’s feet.

Ji Yingran looked down at the pack. Her smile froze for a second once she got a good look.

It was a pure black backpack. But hers wasn’t black—it was purple. And the size was clearly different too.

This wasn’t her backpack.

The number of people who climbed Snow Mountain wasn’t overwhelming, but it wasn’t negligible either. This could well be a bag abandoned by some previous mountaineer.

Ji Yingran’s brows furrowed. She’d gotten her hopes up for nothing. She’d thought it was her own bag, that she’d soon have the satellite phone in hand and be able to call for rescue.

That immense surge of joy and anticipation had crashed into an equally immense letdown.

Snow Wolf sensed the shift in her mood. Her golden wolf eyes swept back and forth across the human.

After stewing in her gloom and disappointment for a moment, Ji Yingran drew a deep breath. She quickly pulled herself together and flashed Snow Wolf a reassuring smile.

“It’s fine. It’s not my bag, sure, but who knows? There might still be some pleasant surprises inside.”

Seeing her smile, Snow Wolf stopped scrutinizing her and indifferently withdrew her gaze.

By the time they’d finished the ordeal, night had already fallen. Ji Yingran dragged the unfamiliar backpack into the mountain cave.

Snow Wolf, who normally never waited for her, slowed her pace this time—as if deliberately hanging back to let her catch up.

Once back inside the cave, Snow Wolf’s naturally warm body heat filled the space in an instant, turning it cozy and snug. The chill that Ji Yingran had built up outside melted away by more than half right then and there.

She’d noticed when dragging it in that the bag wasn’t particularly heavy, so there probably weren’t many supplies inside.

This might have belonged to someone who’d met a tragic end. The perils of scaling Snow Mountain went without saying. Countless climbers had perished on its towering heights, denied any chance of returning home.

That said, judging from the weight, Ji Yingran suspected it was more likely gear that a mountaineer had ditched to lighten their load.

She was eager to peek inside, but the cave—which was dim to begin with—had plunged into total darkness with nightfall.

It was pitch black. She couldn’t even see her own hand in front of her face.

Under these conditions, there was no way for Ji Yingran to inspect the backpack. She’d have to wait until morning.

Snow Wolf had curled up on the blanket, quiet as could be. It was impossible to tell if she was asleep.

Ji Yingran treaded lightly as she edged closer. Being near her was much warmer.

“Are you asleep?” she whispered.

Ji Yingran strained her ears. Snow Wolf’s breathing was shallow and even. She must be out.

Good. Ji Yingran reached out and began to warm herself—no, began to warm herself against the wolf.

It had to be said, toasting herself like this was genuinely toasty.

If only she could slip her hand into that fluffy fur of hers. Wouldn’t that be even warmer? The very thought was tantalizing beyond words.

The temptation was almost too much to resist.

With mischief in her heart, Ji Yingran crept her hand downward, sneaky as a thief. She started by resting it lightly on Snow Wolf’s back, then ever so slowly worked it deeper into the fur.

Wow.

Inwardly, Ji Yingran marveled at the sensation. What a touch! Such incredibly soft fur—she’d swear it was softer than anything she’d ever felt.

She couldn’t bear to stop.

What had started as a bid for warmth gradually turned into something else entirely. Her hand roamed freely, petting and stroking to her heart’s content.

At that very moment, a pair of wolf eyes slowly fluttered open. Golden light gleamed in the darkness, bright and alert.

Ji Yingran’s wandering hand froze in place. Cold sweat broke out all over her body.