Day Eighteen of Wanting a Divorce.
The three of them stiffened their backs instantly. Rainwater hit the back of their necks, bringing a biting chill.
One pair, two pairs, three pairs. There were too many to count. Eyes of varying heights, sharp and ferocious, stared from the darkness.
“That, that is,” the VJ said, scared out of his wits, his feet instinctively shuffling backward.
“Wolves,” An Rao whispered, his voice low and steady. “And they have already spotted us.”
It was common knowledge that wolves fear torches and light. Realizing this, the VJ frantically fumbled with his backpack to find a flashlight. In his panic, his hand slipped. The flashlight hit the ground with a thud and rolled away, disappearing into the flowing stream.
The three shared a look and began to retreat slowly and imperceptibly. Xu Renyu quickly snatched up a thick branch from the ground, holding it up in a defensive stance as he backed away with the other two.
As everyone knows, wolves are social animals that launch pack attacks once they identify prey. Furthermore, their night vision is excellent, and their motion perception far exceeds that of humans.
As the pack noticed the movement of the three men, they slowly stood up. With their backs hunched low and front paws testing the ground, the wolves gradually stepped into the stream, prowling toward them.
“What, what do we do?” Despite the sub-zero temperature, the VJ was sweating buckets, his heart leaping into his throat, mere seconds away from a scream.
An Rao quickly calculated their survival odds if they ran. The answer was zero. Humans cannot outrun wolves, especially a pack in unfamiliar, rugged mountain terrain. Even if they were not caught and mauled, they would likely fall off a cliff or impale themselves on jagged rocks. It would not be much prettier than being eaten.
They are not attacking yet. They are still testing us. If we run, it will trigger their hunting instinct.
The wolves squinted, continuing their approach. Soon, they crossed the stream and reached a point less than five or six meters away.
Xu Renyu, gripped by fear and anger, could not help but snap, “Does the production crew not have any emergency measures for this?”
“We, we, we surveyed this area! There were not supposed to be wolves!” The VJ wanted to cry. He was just a cameraman. He was facing death and being blamed for it simultaneously.
“Do not move. Stay calm. There is still a way.” An Rao forced himself to steady his nerves, observing the pack. If he could manipulate their mood, they might have a chance.
Wolves are naturally cautious. They were likely observing the three, weighing whether an attack was worth the risk.
An Rao whispered to the VJ, “Do you have your phone?”
“Yes, yes!” The VJ pulled it out with trembling hands and handed it over.
An Rao scanned the music player. It was mostly generic pop songs, but tucked in the middle was a nursery rhyme: “The Little Duckling.”
“That is for my daughter,” the VJ stammered.
Regardless, An Rao clicked on “The Little Duckling” and cranked the volume to the maximum. Keeping his gaze locked on the pack, he kept his upper body upright and slowly placed the phone on the ground.
The wolves, who had been closing in, suddenly heard a sound they had never encountered before. They all stopped in their tracks, looking curiously at the source of the noise.
One of them was a size larger than the rest, with broad, upright ears and a majestic aura. If he was not mistaken, this was the Alpha.
The Alpha narrowed his eyes, his long, drooping tail suddenly sweeping the ground. After a moment, his hind legs bent, and he sat down on the earth, appraising the humans before him. Seeing their leader sit, the rest of the pack followed suit.
The tail of the Alpha traced a semi-circle on the ground, then lifted slightly and hit the leaf litter with a thwack. A few younger, inexperienced wolves seemed to enjoy the music. They began digging into the dirt with their front paws and let out a cheerful “Awoo!”
The howl was long and resonant, as if they were singing along.
Suddenly, the music ended.
The Alpha stood up abruptly. With his tail lowered, he walked slowly toward An Rao. His slanted eyes held a look of haughty disdain, his long legs moving with the deliberate grace of an emperor.
Seeing things taking a turn for the worse, Xu Renyu raised his branch and prepared to charge the Alpha in a desperate final stand.
But unexpectedly, the Alpha stopped. His body tilted to one side, and he collapsed heavily onto the ground. His pale green eyes were terrifying in the dark.
An Rao instinctively took a step back, squinting. He realized there was a dark patch of wetness near the front paw of the Alpha. Under the moonlight, it shimmered with a crimson glint.
It was blood. This wolf was injured.
He lay on the ground, licking his bleeding paw, occasionally looking up warily at the three men.
Even if he was injured, if the humans tried to run, the remaining wolves would likely chase them down, tear their throats out, and offer them up to their leader.
An Rao gripped his backpack. “The Little Duckling” had distracted them for now, but they could not make a reckless move.
The Alpha looked pained. There were several large holes in his right front paw, gushing blood. It looked like he had been caught in a snare or a leg-hold trap.
After a long silence, An Rao made a daring decision. He pulled bandages and antiseptic from his bag and began to approach the Alpha, one agonizingly slow step at a time.
“Do not go over there,” Xu Renyu hissed.
However, although the pack saw An Rao approaching, they did not move. An Rao stopped a few meters away, observing. The Alpha was in too much pain to care about the human, focused solely on licking his wound.
Perhaps he could sense the human meant no harm, or perhaps he was actually asking for help. Even for an Alpha, losing the ability to fight often meant being abandoned by the pack.
After a long standoff, seeing that the Alpha showed no aggression, An Rao felt slightly more at ease. He gripped the bandages and moved closer, whispering, “Good boy, do not be afraid. I am here to help.”
The other two watched the suicidal behavior of An Rao with cold sweat on their brows, looking around for any makeshift weapons. If the wolves turned, they would have to fight to the death.
A moment later, An Rao was standing right in front of the Alpha.
Wary, even knowing the human meant no harm, the Alpha dragged his injured leg back a step. An Rao slowly squatted down and showed the antiseptic, gesturing that he was there to help.
Suddenly, the Alpha extended his injured paw. It was mangled with bloody holes where the trap had bitten in. The flesh was turned out, a gruesome sight.
An Rao felt a pang of pity. He boldly poured clean water over the paw to wash the wound. The Alpha hissed in pain, but the clever creature knew he was being helped. Even though it hurt, he endured it.
Seeing no resistance, An Rao grew bolder. He gently patted the area dry with clean gauze, opened the antiseptic, and applied it to the wounds. The Alpha proved his title, remaining steadfast even through the searing pain. Finally, An Rao wrapped it in bandages and tied a neat bow.
After a long silence, the Alpha suddenly opened his mouth and lunged toward An Rao.
“Watch out!” Xu Renyu screamed, but it was too late.
The Alpha bit down on the sleeve of An Rao, then let go, then bit again. He was not attacking. He was nipping at the sleeve playfully. He sat back down, his fluffy tail wagging slightly.
An Rao did not quite understand the gesture, but it was clear the wolf did not intend to eat him.
The rest of the pack ran toward An Rao, sitting in a circle around him and emitting short, sharp “Awoos.” The VJ was stunned but managed to turn his camera back on to capture the surreal scene.
Xu Renyu finally exhaled and laughed. “The wolf is thanking you.”
An Rao tried to push the Alpha away, but the wolf was persistent, nipping at him again. Eventually, the wolf relaxed completely, lying down in front of An Rao and sniffing the scent of his palm.
An Rao pulled his hand back, and the Alpha immediately stood up to follow, continuing his sniffing.
“Alright, do you have to be this clingy?” An Rao laughed helplessly, reminded of the husky from earlier.
Although the pack was temporarily pacified, wolves are cunning and unpredictable. The three decided to move away and hide their scent as soon as possible.
Guided by the North Star, they moved through the night with renewed speed, desperate to leave the area. But after a few steps, they heard rustling in the brush behind them.
An Rao stopped and looked back. In the dark woods, a pair of green eyes watched him quietly.
It was the Alpha.
Seeing An Rao stop, the wolf stopped too. After a moment, he placed something he was carrying in his mouth onto the ground and stepped back. He seemed to know the human was wary of him, so he did not approach. He simply sat there, watching.
An Rao looked closely by the moonlight. The Alpha had left a colorful wild pheasant, its life already extinguished. He froze, feeling the sheer impossibility of the situation. He walked over and picked up the bird.
Seeing him take the gift, the Alpha turned and walked away.
An Rao looked at the pheasant and smiled softly. “Thank you, handsome.”
The Alpha flicked his tail and vanished into the deep forest, limping slightly.
When An Rao returned to the group with a pheasant, Xu Renyu rubbed his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating. “When did you catch a pheasant?”
“I did not. The wolf gave it to me.”
The cameraman could not help but chime in. “A wolf gave you a bird? You should be thanking heaven he did not treat you like a bird.”
But looking at the fresh, bleeding bite marks on the neck of the bird, the cameraman swallowed hard. “It actually happened.”
Xu Renyu laughed and shook his head. “You should just adopt him. Take him back to the city, feed him well, and use him to gain fans. You are probably the first person in the industry to tame a wild Alpha.”
An Rao looked at the pheasant, a soft smile touching his lips. “He has his own way of life and his own pack. He belongs here.”
The eyes of Xu Renyu widened slightly. If it were him, he probably would have tried to bring the wolf back for the publicity. But he realized his perspective was narrow. He had been blinded by the tender act of Lin Jingxi of protecting fish earlier, even scolding An Rao for it. Now, he finally understood.
Loving nature is not about skipping a meal. It is about respecting their way of life. Perhaps that was the true meaning of a survival show.
“By the way, how did you think of playing ‘The Little Duckling’ for a wolf?”
“Wolves are curious and easily distracted by strange sounds. If you are ever cornered in the wild and cannot escape or fight, it is worth a shot.”
The three followed the mountain path for several kilometers. Just as they were reaching the limit of their exhaustion, they saw flickering firelight in the distance. They sprinted toward it, forgetting their fatigue.
They found their teammates: Chu Guannan and Su Xiangming, along with Shen Yi and Lin Jingxi. Shortly after, Yin Xueya and Li Meiwei arrived, equally breathless. Everyone had followed the North Star, reuniting the entire cast. Whether by coincidence or silent understanding, they were all together again.
Since no one else had found food and An Rao had the pheasant, they decided to make Beggar’s Chicken.
Lin Jingxi looked at the dead bird and turned away, his voice laced with grief. “It was tragically killed by a beast. Should we not bury it?”
Yin Xueya took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. After a moment, she stood up and walked to Lin Jingxi, sneering, “If you do not want to eat, then do not. No one is forcing you. Stop playing the saint.”
Lin Jingxi jumped, seemingly intimidated by the status of Yin Xueya in the industry. He backed down. “Sister Xueya, I did not mean it that way. Do not be angry.”
Shen Yi tried to play peacemaker. “Sister Xueya, do not be hasty. Jingxi just means we should have a little farewell ceremony for the bird before we eat it.”
“A farewell ceremony for a chicken?” Yin Xueya laughed out loud. “If a cockroach or a grasshopper dies in these mountains, do you hold a ceremony for them too? Do you chant sutras to save their souls?”
Lin Jingxi lowered his head without a word, gripping the hem of his clothes. A tear fell onto his knee.
Shen Yi stiffened, his brows furrowing. He suddenly stood up and kicked the pheasant away. “Do not go too far! Ever since this show started, you all have been targeting Jingxi. You know he is upset about his family, yet you keep poking at him. Have some heart!”
Su Xiangming had been ready to pluck the feathers, but the bird was kicked far away before he could touch it. His hand hung awkwardly in mid-air. He was not in the mood for rap lyrics anymore. He stood up and glared at Shen Yi. “I beg you! Survival comes before kindness! Fine, you two are the morality police, and I am the low-class one. I am going to go get the chicken.”
An Rao remembered a scene from the original novel. The other guests caught a chicken or rabbit for dinner, and the author painted them as despicable, selfish people. The spotlight was on Lin Jingxi, who stood up to stop the villains. In the ensuing argument, Lin Jingxi went to the river to clear his head. The original An Rao was washing vegetables there, and Lin Jingxi ended up falling into the river. He nearly died. After a Sherlock Holmes-style investigation, it was concluded the original An Rao pushed him. Everyone felt guilty, sided with Lin Jingxi, and spent the rest of the story verbally destroying An Rao. The readers loved it.
Recalling this, An Rao was washing his hands by the river, preparing to clean the pheasant. Lin Jingxi came stumbling over and sat by the water, looking at the moon.
“What did I do wrong? Why is everyone blaming me?” The beauty cried like dew rolling on a jade plate.
An Rao flicked the water from his fingers, ignored him, and turned to leave.
Lin Jingxi stood up unsteadily, moving subtly toward An Rao.