4 – Being Allowed to Trespass into the Territory of Wolf Cubs
“Fu, Yao, Fu Yao—these two characters are my name.”
“Jin, Zhi, Jin Zhi—these two characters are your name.”
A childish yet earnest voice spoke as Fu Yao’s hand moved the pen stroke by stroke.
On the rough, five-cent exercise book, four characters and four pinyin were written beautifully—so beautifully it hardly seemed like a child’s handwriting.
Jin Zhi glanced briefly at his own name.
His gaze lingered on the characters “Fu Yao” for a long time, silently committing them to memory.
Fu Yao took Jin Zhi’s hand, placed the pen in it, and adjusted his grip. “Come, let me teach you how to write it once.”
The girl’s palm was warm, carrying a warmth he longed for.
But at that moment, he was lost.
Fu Yao took in everything, unfazed, guiding Jin Zhi’s hand to move the pen slowly.
Together, they slowly wrote the two characters for Jin Zhi.
Fu Yao said, “A name is the most important thing a person has. Because of a name, we are given a unique meaning to exist in this world.”
As she spoke, her lips unconsciously curved into a gentle smile.
Because these were words her mother had told her.
This rare, genuine smile was captured by Jin Zhi, leaving him stunned for a while. He stared at the corner of her mouth for a long moment before asking, “Why?”
Hearing Jin Zhi voice his confusion, Fu Yao was delighted, her eyes shining like scattered stardust. “What do you mean, why?”
Jin Zhi’s speech wasn’t clear, but it was still understandable. “What is… unique meaning?”
Fu Yao remembered asking the same question back then.
But her mother hadn’t answered, telling her to think about it herself.
Yet the only conclusion she had reached was this:
“For example, right now, your name is Jin Zhi, so I call you Jin Zhi, not just ‘you.’ You know that when I say ‘Jin Zhi,’ it only refers to you.”
This question left both of them silent for a long time.
Throughout the day, Jin Zhi would often watch Fu Yao with a probing gaze.
Whenever Fu Yao noticed, she would respond with a smile, as if she were always radiant and bright.
It was even more dazzling than the morning sun.
For Jin Zhi, mired in the dark swamp of his existence, it was too bright to look at directly.
By the end of the day, Fu Yao felt she hadn’t made much progress with Jin Zhi.
He still refused to trust her, stubbornly sleeping on the floor again. Even as the night grew colder and he shivered alone, he adamantly refused to come to the bed.
As she had the night before, Fu Yao had another nightmare in the middle of the night.
This dream wasn’t as intense as the last one.
But it was even more suffocating.
Her mother, worn and weary, forced a smile onto her face as she finished the household chores, waiting for that person to come home for the New Year’s Eve dinner.
But that person was too busy. He hadn’t come home for a long time—three months had passed since his last visit.
The large table was filled with delicious-looking dishes, and Fu Yao waited obediently.
Her mother smiled and waited, but no one came even as the night grew late. Smiling and smiling, she suddenly buried her face in her hands and began to cry.
Fu Yao took a tissue to comfort her mother, but her mother said it was nothing. Then, a message from a friend arrived. After reading it, her mother stopped both crying and smiling, and suddenly began to lose control again.
Her mother grabbed Fu Yao and started beating her violently.
She screamed:
“You little wretch! It’s all your fault! All your fault!”
“Why are you treating me like this… why?!”
“Yao Yao… Mom was wrong, Mom… Mom couldn’t control herself.”
Fu Yao didn’t feel pain, only pity for her mother and for herself.
She often endured these moments alone with her mother, then silently held her mother’s body, patting and comforting her.
She woke up again.
And once more covered the shivering little wolf cub with the blanket.
When she woke the next day, Jin Zhi under the bed was groaning in pain, his small face flushed red, sweating profusely.
Fu Yao was startled too, quickly reaching out to check: “So hot!”
“Wait here, we’re going to the hospital.”
She hurried to find the director, urging him to take Jin Zhi to the hospital immediately.
But the director said: “That worthless life of his, if he can tough it out, fine; if he can’t and dies, so be it. He’s suffering anyway!”
Fu Yao remained unusually calm at this moment, her eyes fixed intently on the director, making his hair stand on end.
“If he dies, your orphanage won’t be able to escape responsibility. Don’t you understand his connection to your orphanage?”
“Legally, he is fostered in your orphanage. If he dies and it’s found to be due to your negligence, you’ll be the one going to jail.”
The director never expected a little girl to explain the law so logically. Her serious, threatening tone genuinely frightened him.
He was wicked, but he didn’t want to go to jail.
So he quickly carried the little wolf cub to the hospital, spending several hundred on medicine and hospitalization, so angry he didn’t want to stay a second longer.
“You two stay here. When you’re better, come back on your own. What bad luck!”
He left, but Fu Yao didn’t care. She was only worried about the little wolf cub on the bed, groaning in discomfort.
She took his hand and said, “We’re at the hospital now. The doctor will treat you, and you’ll feel better soon.”
Under such reassurance, Jin Zhi quickly fell asleep.
During the night.
Fu Yao had to change Jin Zhi’s wet towel frequently, so she would doze off briefly before getting up again, removing the towel from Jin Zhi, soaking it in hot water, waiting for it to warm before wiping his joints, then letting it cool before folding it into a small pad and placing it on Jin Zhi’s forehead.
She repeated this process countless times. Jin Zhi woke up in the middle of the night; it seemed his fever had broken.
After waking, he kept staring at Fu Yao.
Fu Yao saw the colors on him—pure orange-red, tinged with some sorrowful blue.
“You’re awake?”
As Fu Yao reached out to place the towel back on his forehead.
Jin Zhi swiftly extended a hand, like a predator waiting for prey in the silent night, and grabbed Fu Yao’s right wrist.
Fu Yao was startled but didn’t startle the snake in the grass.
His gaze fell on the four still-red marks on the back of her hand—marks he had left.
Then, without a word, Jin Zhi stuck out his tongue and licked the wound.
The warm sensation was indescribably strange, but Fu Yao didn’t resist it; instead, she felt comforted.
Wild beasts lick their wounds from battles, letting hormones in their saliva accelerate healing. Injured young animals aren’t agile; most of the time, they huddle together in pairs, leaning on each other for warmth in the dark and by the fire, licking each other’s wounds.
Fu Yao knew she had been accepted by a young wolf.
The young wolf’s eyes fixed intently and firmly on Fu Yao, patting the spot beside it, just as she had done before, making room.
Fu Yao smiled and sat down.
She was permitted to enter the young wolf’s territory.