By now, the wolf pack had mostly finished eating. They were well-behaved; once done, they each found a spot either rubbing their faces in the snow or huddling together to groom one another’s fur. Seeing that everyone was satisfied, the little wolf twitched its ears and nudged the white wolf to its feet. The big white wolf, massive in size, stood among the pack with a majestic air.
The little wolf let out a howl and was the first to run toward me. The white wolf followed close behind, while the other wolves followed suit, lining up in a long row behind the white wolf.
The little wolf rubbed its furry head against my leg and seized the opportunity to lick the hand hanging by my side. I glanced at the back of my hand and said nothing, but the youth behind me suddenly leaned forward, grabbed my hand, and wiped the moisture away. His palms were warm, but his expression was fierce; he even bared his teeth at the little wolf. The little wolf flicked its tail and turned away, pretending not to see him.
I cast a wry, amused glance at the youth. He lifted his chin with an expression that said this is only natural, and then turned around to sweep a sharp, icy gaze across the wolf pack. The white wolf was particularly afraid of him; after being glared at, it tucked its tail between its legs. It didn’t even dare to nuzzle me when it reached my side, only circling me once. Because of this, the other wolves dared not be too presumptuous; after circling me once, they ran two laps around the courtyard before leaving reluctantly.
I wasn’t familiar with wolves, but I knew cats. On Qing-shuang Mountain, there were many small cats of various colors. Whenever I brought dried fish, they would meow and crowd around me, rubbing against me with their heads. Perhaps this was a universal gesture among animals to show affection.
After watching the wolves head off into the distance, I finally crouched down, preparing to extinguish the remaining embers: the night wind on the grasslands was strong, and although snow covered the land in all directions, there was no telling if a stray spark might fly into the dry grass or the woods.
I lifted my robe, about to reach for the fire tongs, when I heard a rustling sound of footsteps in the snow behind me the small grassland wolf had jumped back into the courtyard. Before I could anticipate it, it suddenly leaned in and licked my face.
Both the youth and I were stunned. A moment later, the youth’s eyes widened, his chest heaved, and in his annoyance, he snatched up the largest lamb bone. The little wolf reacted quickly, ducking low to dodge the blow; it vaulted over the courtyard wall and vanished into the birch forest, kicking up a huge spray of snow in its wake.
The youth was trembling with anger and flung the lamb bone away. I shook my head, smiling, and reached up to wipe the saliva off my face. The youth stayed in a sulk for a while but did not leave, instead returning to the courtyard to help me tidy up. Although he wasn’t very familiar with common household tools the broom, the dustpan, the fire tongs—he quickly understood my intentions: stomping out the embers on the ground, moving the leftovers back inside, and using dirt and snow to cover the lingering stench of raw meat.
With his help, I finished cleaning up quickly. However, when I returned from burning the wormwood, I discovered the youth was still inside.
“You… do you have something else you want to say?”
“Ao-wu?”
“…” I gave a wry smile. My fault. I had used the wrong word—the child couldn’t speak at all; what words could he possibly have? “I meant…” I pointed to the window. “Are you not leaving yet?”
Judging by the time, it was likely nearing midnight. Usually, I would have been asleep by now; it was only because of the all-meat banquet hosted for the wolf pack that I had been delayed until this hour.
The youth had been squatting by the stove, curiously staring at the bubbling water pot. When he heard my words, his mouth immediately puckered: Disaster. My beautiful wife is angry. Angry that I didn’t come home to eat the first time.
The youth scratched his hair in distress: But it wasn’t on purpose; something really came up.
In the winter, food is scarce, and the various packs on and off the mountain were in constant conflict. The Snow Mountain wolf pack that he had defeated and decimated was also looking for an opportunity to take revenge. What worried him most was that this morning, his scout, “Black Back,” had discovered the corpse of a Snow Mountain wolf on the outermost edge of their territory. If it were just a dead wolf, that would be nothing unusual many animals died inexplicably every winter but it was a pregnant she-wolf, and it had been blind in one eye.
It was clearly the one that had stolen the sheep from the courtyard that day.
He had examined the wounds on the she-wolf and discovered she had been bitten to death; it was a single, fatal blow with no signs of a struggle. Actually, this she-wolf was quite famous in the vicinity; her fur was pure white, and she was fierce and belligerent. Earlier, many male wolves had wanted to become her mate and had fought over her. If she had been bitten to death without struggling, it meant she never expected the killer, so… it was highly likely the Snow Mountain wolf whose leg he had broken.
Wolves are the most loyal creatures; a Wolf King would never hunt its own mate, especially one already carrying the next generation. Killing a mate and then discarding its corpse on his territory… this was, for the most part, a provocation and a threat. He feared that the Snow Mountain wolf had found a new pack and was coming for revenge.
Sigh…
The youth sighed, walked up to me, reached out to wrap his arms around me, and rested his head on my shoulder, rubbing against it gently: Beautiful wife, don’t be angry, please don’t be angry.
He emitted a low whimpering sound from his throat. In a wolf pack, this action and sound would convey an apology or an attempt to curry favor, but to me, it sounded like nothing more than an ambiguous, whimpering murmur.
“If you keep moving your hands and feet like this…” I lost my temper. I said half-jokingly: “Do you want me to beat you?”
The youth stopped abruptly, raised his head, his blue eyes looking as if they had been dampened by water—he looked truly pitiful. Unfortunately, this was a trick I had seen many times before: the small calico cat on Qing-shuang Mountain would even pretend to have a lame leg, tricking me into the cave in a desperate attempt to find a stepfather for the litter of kittens she had given birth to.
So, I tapped the youth on the head. “Don’t try to cheat your way out of this!”
The youth covered his head: What do I do? It seems the wife isn’t falling for this at all.
Watching his eyes darting around, I yawned and pointed to my injured shoulder. “Go back. I’m truly sleepy…”
It’s over.
The youth let his head droop in despair: I’m finished. The beautiful wife is truly angry now; he won’t even be allowed to stay in the nest.
A Wolf King has two ways of finding a mate: one is to choose from within their own pack, the other is to find one from the outside. Every spring and summer, young wolves that have just come of age are driven out of the pack by the Wolf King and Wolf Queen, tasked with finding their own mates and building their own packs.
He had stayed in the mountains for many years, and it had been so difficult to find a beautiful member of his species like Gu Chengyan, yet he had accidentally managed to anger him. Being a Wolf King, he had no experience in coaxing people. At a loss for what to do, he simply squatted right there, sitting on my feet, and wrapped his arms around me tightly like a child.
“Hey!” I was both shocked and amused. “Aren’t… aren’t you ashamed?”
The youth shook his head: What dignity do I need to coax my wife? I’m not ashamed! He even clamped his legs tightly around me, raised his hands to cover his ears, and refused to listen, refusing to listen to the “tortoise chanting scriptures.”
“…Pfft.” I was eventually tickled: What kind of stubborn little puppy is this? I was truly defeated.
Seeing that it was indeed late outside—the rolling yellow clouds had already obscured most of the moonlight—I ultimately hadn’t the heart to drive him out. Forget it. I wiggled my toes. “Get up. The water is about to boil dry…”
The youth raised his head and saw that although my face was full of helplessness, the corners of my eyes had curved. He jumped up immediately and ran to the stove, looking as if he wanted to help but had no idea how. I walked over to remove the water kettle and was just about to reach for a bronze basin to pour water when I suddenly realized something:
“You can barely speak, so how is it that you understand what I’m saying?”
The youth thought for a moment, came over to take my hand, led me to the door, and then squatted on the ground, stretching out his finger to draw for me.
“Hmm, a little person? Is this… a wolf?”
“Hmm… many, many wolves, ah, ah-choo!”
The night wind at the door was cold. I wrapped myself tighter in the bear-skin coat. “And then? Is this little person with long hair you? Why are you wearing a long skirt?”
Who said that was me? The youth puffed out his cheeks. He had specifically drawn a long skirt; it was clearly Mother. He was about to add a few more strokes, but when he turned around, he saw my nose was red. He stood up, pushed me back into the room, and grabbed a few handfuls of snow to try and continue his drawing.
However, since there was a fire burning on the kang inside, the snow began to melt the moment it was piled in. The youth froze, stared at the slush on the ground, then went back outside to grab more; if one handful wasn’t enough, he grabbed two, and in the end, he even threw himself down to hug a huge mass of it back inside.
I: “…”
But that mass of snow couldn’t last long inside the room either; it turned into water before I could draw two strokes. The youth’s eyes widened, looking at the floor in disbelief. He stomped on it hard twice, then crouched down to touch it, as if he were staring at some monster. Watching from behind, I finally couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.
The youth’s face flushed hot, and he couldn’t help but defend himself: “The… the ground is bad!”
It would have been better if he hadn’t said that; the moment he did, I laughed even harder, pulling at the injury on my shoulder. The youth stomped his feet in frustration, stood up, and went to get even more snow. I hurried to stop him if he brought any more inside, we would be flooded.
“Silly boy…” I crouched down, took his finger, and guided him to draw a circle on the floor. “You can draw by dipping your finger in water, too.”
The youth stiffened, but the moment I let go of him to close the door, he immediately grabbed my hand and held it tightly.
I glanced down. “Do you have to hold on?”
The youth nodded, his face flushed red.
I didn’t struggle, only shook my arm. “How are you going to draw if you’re holding on?”
The youth raised my other hand.
“Fine, that works too.” I laughed. It felt just like coaxing a child.
Leading him to the stove, I poured out a bowl of water and let him draw on the platform. At first, I had to rely on guessing, but gradually I began to follow the youth’s line of reasoning, understanding which marks represented me and which represented the wolves:
The youth said he had followed his mother here when he was small. Later, his mother had died in an accident, and he was adopted by a white wolf. After he grew up, the white wolf died of old age, so he naturally inherited the position of Wolf King, leading the remaining pack to live in the birch forest at the foot of the snow mountain. As for the Rongdi language, his mother had taught him some, but most of it was learned later from an old man he had met.
“An old man?” I looked at the water stains on the surface. “Are you sure this is… a human, and not a… deer-headed monster?” Not only did he have horns on his head, he was wearing many layers of clothing.
The youth spread his hands, indicating that was how the old man dressed; he was simply drawing what he saw.
“Is he… someone from the Holy Mountain?”
The youth thought for a moment, drew a small house on the platform, and then pointed at me.
“Is it that wooden cabin?”
The youth nodded. The wooden cabin had been built by the old man; when he was small, he had often gone there to listen to the old man tell stories and learn hunting techniques.
“Then…” I asked, “what is his name?”
The youth shook his head. This time, he didn’t draw; instead, he said very earnestly:
“Atawa!”
In Rongdi, Ata means father; Atawa means grandfather. This was essentially saying nothing at all. I opened my mouth, wanting to ask more, but the youth suddenly reached out, covered my mouth, and picked me up. After placing me on the kang, the youth clasped his hands together as a pillow, tilted his head, and leaned back, performing a closing-eyes gesture:
—You should be asleep.
I: “…”
Now he knows how to rush me to sleep.
I sighed, feeling my eyelids truly heavy, and after a hasty wash, I pointed at the wooden chest over there. “You sleep there.”
The youth had been watching me wash my face intently, thinking that my beautiful wife looked so good even when licking his fur. When he heard this, his face turned sour—Why is he still angry?
“You turn off the light, put the used water there, and pour it out tomorrow.”
Having finished the last of his instructions, I leaned against the pillow and was fast asleep in no time.
In a state between dreaming and waking, the youth suddenly crept to the side of my bed and gently lifted my quilt. I was startled, turned my head, and was horrified to see, in the light of the not-yet-extinguished lamp, that the youth was sturdy and lean, and completely naked.