“Forgetting Lines: Elegant Wolfie”
“Stupid Human.”
“Lowly Human.”
“Useless and unqualified two-legged beast.”
“…”
Mu Ci didn’t know what had gotten into her. Perhaps she was just bored with nothing to do, but she kept chattering endlessly in Ji Yingran’s ear.
It was always the same words repeated over and over. One could interpret them as insults, but Ji Yingran had grown used to it. They weren’t particularly harsh or grating anymore—just the wolf’s usual catchphrases.
The only truly annoying part was that she kept murmuring right by her ear, giving Ji Yingran a throbbing headache.
Ji Yingran was watering the flowers in the courtyard while Mu Ci trailed alongside her, following step for step. Every now and then, if Ji Yingran wasn’t careful, the wolf would bump into her.
“Stupid, lowly, and unqualified two-legged beast…”
Ji Yingran sighed and paused her watering. She turned to look at Mu Ci. “You’ve been at this for ages. What exactly do you want?”
Mu Ci fell silent.
When asked what she wanted, she wouldn’t say. She just kept muttering in her ear, forcing Ji Yingran to guess her intentions.
If she were easy to read, that would be one thing. But this wolf was full of twists and turns, with the most bizarre thought processes. Guessing her meaning wasn’t straightforward at all.
Ji Yingran resumed watering the flowers, and Mu Ci resumed her muttering, cycling through the same phrases.
Suddenly, a possibility occurred to Ji Yingran. She glanced sideways at Mu Ci and asked, “Are you trying to chat with me?”
Mu Ci’s pupils dilated slightly, and her voice rose in pitch. “Who would want to chat with you? So full of yourself, making assumptions!”
Ji Yingran raised an eyebrow. Judging by Mu Ci’s reaction, she had guessed right.
So that was it. The wolf wanted to talk to someone, but she had no idea how to hold a conversation or find a topic. Hence, the endless muttering and name-calling in her ear.
Ji Yingran fell quiet at the realization. Not surprising for a wolf. Only she could come up with something like this.
Fine. If the wolf couldn’t find a topic, then the human would have to provide one.
What to talk about? Food?
Ji Yingran shook her head inwardly. No, that wouldn’t do. The moment food came up, the wolf would get hungry, and Ji Yingran would have to cook for her again.
Ji Yingran had once enjoyed cooking—as a hobby. But now that she had to prepare three meals a day for this wolf, spending hours feeding her every time, she felt that hobby could go. It was exhausting.
Lately, Ji Yingran had even been a bit lazy, occasionally ordering takeout for her.
But perhaps she had spoiled the wolf’s palate too much. Before, Mu Ci would eat anything except for certain foods like ginger that she disliked. Everything else was a delicacy to her.
That was before. Now, she had become picky. Regular takeout didn’t appeal to her anymore.
As the saying went, it was hard to go from luxury to frugality. Whether human or beast, once they got used to good food, their standards rose, and they started getting choosy.
Faced with a picky wolf, Ji Yingran tried to cook herself whenever possible. But when she wanted to slack off, the wolf would just have to make do with takeout.
Since food was off-limits, how about flowers?
“Do you know what this flower is?” Ji Yingran asked with a smile.
“It’s an ugly freak, just like you,” Mu Ci replied.
Ji Yingran nearly choked. The wolf was the one who wanted to chat, yet she was the one throwing barbs instead of responding properly.
Ji Yingran said, “If you’re going to talk like that, I’m done chatting with you. Go play by yourself.”
Mu Ci fell silent but didn’t leave. She stuck close to Ji Yingran.
Ji Yingran chuckled softly. “This is a hydrangea. Don’t let its winter appearance fool you—it’s just a bare stem now. But come May, it will bloom. The variety I grow is purple and very beautiful.”
She pointed to the side. “That hydrangea over there is pink. There are others in different colors too. When the season arrives, they’ll burst into a riot of purples and pinks.”
Mu Ci hadn’t paid attention to anything before that, but those last four words caught her ear.
Mu Ci said solemnly, as if cultured, “A riot of purples and pinks. This Wolf knows it—it’s an idiom.”
Ji Yingran: “…”
Some days, it was impossible to know how to respond to her.
Ji Yingran simply changed the subject, pointing to the withered vines climbing the courtyard wall.
“These are climbing flowers, a mix of varieties I put together myself. I chose their spots carefully. There are wisteria, roses, and muxiang flowers among them—all plants that bloom in spring. You’ll see them then.”
As if struck by a sudden thought, Ji Yingran’s voice trailed off.
Mu Ci waited for her to continue, but when she suddenly stopped, she shot her a puzzled look.
Ji Yingran said, “Do you know what I was just thinking? I’ve been so idle lately that I’ve binged all the TV shows and movies I had stockpiled. Now my mind keeps drifting to drama tropes.
“I remembered how characters in shows often jinx themselves. Like when the protagonist says, ‘Wait for me to come back,’ and they never do. Or when they declare, ‘In the future, we’ll do this together,’ only for it to end in tragedy.”
Ji Yingran glanced at the dry, yellow vines on the wall. “Telling you to come see the flowers bloom next spring feels like tempting fate. It’s bad luck.”
Mu Ci tilted her head, her small head filled with great confusion.
Fool luck? What was that? She was babbling nonsense—Mu Ci couldn’t understand a word.
“Saying we’ll watch them together in spring is just asking for trouble. Things like that don’t always happen. Accidents occur.”
That much she understood.
“What wouldn’t happen? You’re crazy. Will you not live to see spring? Or will I?”
Ji Yingran was at a loss for words. She gritted her teeth. “Talk properly. If you keep this up, I won’t want to chat with you anymore.”
Mu Ci bared her teeth. “Lowly Human, how dare you! I’ll bite you to death!”
Ji Yingran covered her mouth. “Here we go again. Haven’t I told you baring your teeth doesn’t look good?”
Mu Ci swatted her hand away. “This Wolf is good-looking. This Wolf is the best-looking!”
“Baring your teeth isn’t.”
“I am!”
Ji Yingran sighed, not arguing further. This immature wolf could bicker about looks all day if given the chance.
Ji Yingran didn’t have that kind of free time.
Better to shift topics quickly.
Ji Yingran kept introducing the various flowers in the courtyard. Mu Ci would occasionally snap back with an insult, but sometimes she managed a normal sentence or two.
It was barely smooth communication?
Close enough, barely.
“You’ve planted so many flowers. You really love gardening. That’s a good trait—it could produce food. When there’s grain to eat, This Wolf might grudgingly say you’re not bad.”
Ji Yingran looked at her with exasperation. What was this? How did flowers lead to farming and food?
Scratch that barely-communication idea. It was a classic case of two people talking past each other.
Whatever. Even if she veered off into left field, Ji Yingran nodded along cooperatively.
“Yes, yes. Food from gardening is a good trait.”
“You’re not humble at all. One compliment and you’re floating. Not steady.”
Ji Yingran felt both helpless and amused. “Okay, got it. From now on, I’ll listen to the wolf, be humble, and steady.”
Mu Ci nodded. “You’re being fairly sensible today.”
“Does that mean I pass today?” Ji Yingran teased deliberately.
“Depends on your performance later. For now, still unqualified.” Mu Ci’s lips curved in pleasure, her ears perking up.
Another fun day chatting with the two-legged beast. The phone had taught her to create chat opportunities and pick topics the other was interested in.
Today, she had chatted about farming with the two-legged beast. It went great. And yet she had the nerve to demand a passing grade. What cheek.
Mu Ci sneakily pulled out her phone, glanced around, and patted it approvingly. “Good job. You’re a star. Huge success today—you’re the hero.”
Time to keep it up and chat more.
And so, Ji Yingran ended up with a wolf that shadowed her, hurling insults under the guise of making conversation.
That day, Mu Ci spotted another perfect opportunity.
Ji Yingran was brewing tea in the gazebo—a prime chance not to be missed.
The human liked drinking that bitter stuff they called tea. It was one of Ji Yingran’s hobbies.
According to the phone, seize the moment and talk about her interests.
This was the moment.
Mu Ci bounded over in a flash.
Ji Yingran tensed immediately, quickly shielding the teapot. She wasn’t worried about her drinking it so much as burning herself.
“You’ve tried it before and didn’t like it. Don’t snatch.” Ji Yingran simply pulled the teapot toward herself, fearing another tug-of-war.
But the anticipated teapot battle didn’t happen. Mu Ci came to a graceful halt by the stone table in the gazebo and sat down with equal grace.
Graceful?
When had this wolf ever been graceful?
Her actions seemed more bizarre than elegant.
Ji Yingran’s wariness spiked. Suspicion crossed her face. Who knew what scheme or mischief this wolf was brewing? It made her uneasy.
“Human, are you drinking tea?” Mu Ci smiled.
Ji Yingran grew even more alert, sitting up straighter. That creepy smile meant she was definitely up to no good—probably some prank.
“Drinking tea alone is boring. Come on, pour This Wolf a cup too. We’ll savor it together.”
“You don’t like it anyway.”
Her elegant smile stiffened for an instant, but it quickly returned to normal.
“This Wolf is a very refined sort of wolf. Pour me a cup of tea.”
“Are you sure?”
Her elegant smile stiffened once more for a moment, then swiftly recovered.
Mu Ci reached out directly and snatched the teapot that the other was guarding. She grabbed a teacup and poured herself a cup.
Slowly, she brought it to her lips, blew on it gently, and took a sip.
At first glance, she looked every bit the picture of refinement.
That was, if you ignored the way she stuck out her tongue after swallowing, wincing from the bitterness.
Her tongue darted out briefly before she yanked it back in. She took another sip of tea, fighting the urge to spit it out, and nodded.
“This tea… this tea…”
Mu Ci’s eyes blinked furiously. She had just memorized a long passage of words to recite after tasting the tea, but clearly, she hadn’t committed it to memory well enough. She had forgotten her lines.
