Qiao Xuan’s fourth tribulation of love occurred 500 years ago.

In that life, he was born in the Western Wasteland with no name. Everyone called him “Ugly Freak.”

His village was deep within the Western Wasteland, near the endless snow-capped mountains. The environment there was harsh, with hardly any vegetation. But because of this, no demons bothered to come to this desolate place, making it a rare peaceful haven. The villagers built a hidden settlement at the foot of the snow mountains, where they worked from sunrise to sunset, just to survive.

It was said that when he was born, he was already extremely ugly. His parents hadn’t planned on keeping him and threw him into a pigpen to let him fend for himself.

Armored pigs were one of the few beasts in the Western Wasteland that could be domesticated, but even so, they had thick hides, tough flesh, and were notoriously ferocious. It often took a dozen people to take down just one. They were only kept because of their laziness and lack of interest in movement.

Everyone thought that once the child was thrown into the pigpen, he would certainly die. But against all odds, he got lucky—the sow in the pen had just given birth, and one of the piglets ended up giving him some milk, allowing him to survive.

Seeing that he had such a tough life, his parents reluctantly took him back, occasionally giving him scraps to eat.

By the time he was two or three, he had to start working around the house; otherwise, his parents would beat and scold him.

The other children in the village bullied him too, calling him “Ugly Freak,” disgusting, and cursing him with cruel words, even beating him.

Because of his hideous appearance, he became the target of all the village’s malice.

No one liked him.

He couldn’t understand why.

All he knew was that he was an Ugly Freak, someone not blessed by the heavens.

To survive, he scavenged for food, endured beatings and scoldings, slept in a nest of straw, and even got kicked out into the cold during the harsh winters… He had grown accustomed to all this, as if he were born to endure it.

He thought life was just like this.

When he was around seven or eight years old—he couldn’t remember exactly—one day, he came back from scavenging to find the village had been attacked by demon beasts.

A flock of black, sharp-toothed birds was viciously slaughtering the villagers, destroying homes, and carrying off living people. After a brutal massacre, they finally left.

The village was in ruins.

The survivors began cleaning up the aftermath. The scene was brutal, but as always, he participated in the labor with a numb expression.

Late at night, while he was curled up in his straw nest, his parents suddenly dragged him out.

They took him to the village square.

The village elder looked at him with disgust, circling him a few times before announcing that he had brought the evil monsters to the village. He had to be sacrificed to appease the beasts and stop them from attacking again.

He didn’t understand. He hadn’t done anything. Why did they have to sacrifice him?

Was it just because he was ugly?

Or was it simply that they needed a scapegoat to calm their fear?

He didn’t argue or struggle, letting them tie him up.

Because he knew that no argument or struggle would change anything.

From the moment he was born, he had no right to choose his life.

In the early hours of a snowy morning, his hands and feet were bound, and he was thrown into the depths of the snow mountains.

The villagers quickly fled after leaving him, and he knew why. It was said that a vicious demon beast lived in the snow mountains, and no one who entered ever came back alive.

He sat quietly under a large tree.

He waited and waited for a long time…

His hands and feet were frozen stiff, and still, no living creature appeared.

His consciousness began to blur. Maybe freezing to death wouldn’t be so bad, he thought. At least he wouldn’t have to be eaten alive. The demon beast could just eat his corpse when it arrived…

That’s what he thought.

From dawn until late into the night, he waited.

Then, in the snowy white landscape, he saw a giant white wolf approaching him. The wolf’s body was taller than his house, with eerie golden eyes. Its fur was pure white, more pristine than the snow beneath it.

The giant wolf stopped in front of him, examining him with its golden eyes, its warm breath seemingly melting his frozen and numb body. In this cold, despairing moment, it was the only warmth he had.

Perhaps because he had mentally prepared himself, he wasn’t afraid at all. In fact, he thought the demon beast, said to be so fierce and cruel, was unexpectedly beautiful.

In the vast, desolate snowfield, one person and one wolf stared at each other.

He wondered how the wolf would eat him.

That was what he was thinking.

He waited for a long time, but the white wolf made no move. After some thought, he sincerely asked, “Could you start by eating my head?”

Perhaps his request surprised the wolf.

The wolf finally spoke, its voice deep and rumbling. It even moved closer, its cold, savage gaze scrutinizing him like prey. “Why?” it asked.

He said, “That way, I won’t feel the pain for too long.”

The wolf said, “Aren’t you afraid?”

He said, “If I’m afraid, will you not eat me?”

The wolf said, “No.”

He nodded. “Then being afraid is useless, so I’m not afraid.”

The wolf stared at him, seemingly amused. After a long while, it lowered its head and sniffed him. Its giant head was larger than his entire body. Suddenly, it raised its paw and cut the ropes binding him, then turned and said, “Come with me.”

He was stunned. “You’re not going to eat me?”

The wolf glanced back, its eyes full of disdain. “So ugly, so skinny, you’re not even enough to fill the gap between my teeth. You don’t look tasty at all.”

He looked down at himself—his bony body, ragged clothes, and his face, which he knew was hideous without even looking.

Not even worthy of being food for a demon beast.

Probably only some desperate little demons would want to eat someone as unpleasant as him.

But because of that, he survived once again.

…

From that day on, he stayed on the snow mountain.

Because he had nowhere else to go.

The white wolf was the ruler of this snow mountain, and in its territory, no other demons existed.

He always knew what he was—food sacrificed to the wolf demon by the villagers. But because he wasn’t tasty, he had the chance to live. Staying alive had always been a luxury for him, something difficult to achieve, but he still wanted to live…

He didn’t want to give up so easily.

He thought, if he could make the wolf demon feel that he was more useful alive than as food, then he would have a reason to keep living.

But he didn’t know the wolf demon well and could only carefully approach, bit by bit…

He would roam the snow mountain, gathering fruits and food despite the hardships, offering them to the wolf demon. At first, the wolf demon was indifferent, but later, it would occasionally eat some. He made sure to remember what the wolf demon liked and would prepare those foods next time. Although he wasn’t good to eat, he could at least offer the wolf good food.

If the wolf was happy eating, it wouldn’t think about eating him.

He would clean the wolf demon’s den every day, finding clean, soft leaves, doing his best to make the wolf’s living space comfortable.

If the wolf slept well, it probably wouldn’t want to eat him.

The wolf had occasional discomfort from bugs, and he would carefully get close, gathering the courage to remove them from its fur, gently grooming it.

At first, the wolf didn’t like him getting close and was very alert. If he made any mistakes or scratched in the wrong spot, it would swat him away with a paw. For the wolf demon, it was just a casual movement, but he often ended up covered in bruises.

But he endured it all, desperately trying to prove his worth—that he was more useful alive than as food.

The wolf demon was solitary, territorial, and had no contact with other demons. It was lazy, often sleeping for days without bothering to find food or clean its den… All these tasks, he could help with.

No matter when the wolf woke up, it would always find fresh food, a clean, soft nest, and a human ready to groom it at a single glance.

At first, all of this was difficult for him, but over time, it became easier.

And when he approached the wolf, it rarely swatted him away anymore.

Sometimes, when he was tired or sleepy, he would lean against the wolf, sinking into its soft fur. The wolf might lazily glance at him but wouldn’t drive him away.

One year, two years.

Three years, four years.

Just like that, he lived on the snow mountain for ten years.

It was less a relationship between master and food and more like they depended on each other.

Because they only had each other.

Sometimes, he even felt grateful that the villagers had sacrificed him that day.

Compared to living with humans, with all their complexities and darkness, with all their malicious gazes… Maybe he was more suited to being alone, or maybe, more suited to living with a beast.

Sometimes, beasts were simpler and purer than humans.

The wolf didn’t eat him because he was ugly, but it also didn’t insult him for being ugly. It didn’t despise him for being ugly, nor did it bully him for being ugly. Beauty and ugliness in humans meant nothing to the wolf.

The wolf was strong, so it didn’t need to resort to desperate measures to survive like weak humans. It didn’t vent its frustration on the weak…

The wolf was indifferent and apathetic, with no desires or demands. It never asked anything of him or sought anything from him. As long as you didn’t provoke it, you could do whatever you wanted.

The wolf wasn’t particularly kind to him, didn’t care if he lived or died, but saw him as an insignificant presence.

But he thought this was good.

…

Winters here were always particularly cold. This time, like always, he ventured to the edge of the snow mountain to gather food and herbs to prepare for winter, but unexpectedly, he encountered some humans.

They were people from his old village.

They recognized him too, looking at him like they had seen a ghost. Clearly, they remembered him.

He wasn’t surprised. Someone as ugly as him was easy to recognize. He had never seen anyone who looked like him. From the moment he was born, he was an outcast, and even now, nothing had changed.

He saw the fear and disgust in their eyes, as if he shouldn’t exist at all. Then they raised their scythes and hoes, trying to kill him.

As if he was some kind of abomination that deserved to die.

As if he didn’t deserve to live.

Why?

He didn’t want revenge, nor did he want to go back. Why couldn’t they tolerate his existence?

He didn’t understand, so he ran. He ran deep into the snow mountain, into the place they feared.

Sure enough, they soon stopped chasing him.

He looked at the wounds on his body, the gashes on his arm and shoulder where the flesh was torn open. But his life had always been tough, and non-fatal wounds could be treated with herbs.

To avoid upsetting the wolf, fearing it might smell the blood on him, he carefully covered his scent with strong herbs, then quietly left the food he had gathered and went away.

That night, he hid in a secluded place, licking his wounds alone.

He found a cave, lit a torch, and prepared to endure the cold night.

But what he didn’t expect was that the wolf demon came looking for him.

The massive wolf stood at the narrow entrance of the cave, its golden eyes glowing coldly as it stared at him.

He was surprised. In the past ten years, the wolf had never actively sought him out. At most, it would lazily glance at him when he approached… Had he done something wrong? Or had he left traces of blood that disturbed the wolf…

Just then, he heard the wolf speak. It said, “Who hurt you?”

He replied, “The villagers from before.”

Suddenly, the wolf grabbed him in its jaws, tossing him onto its back. It sniffed the air, and in no time, they were at the spot where he had been attacked. The wolf sniffed around and quickly took off in one direction.

In just a few moments, they arrived at the entrance of a village.

It was his old village. They had moved here. Although he had been gone for ten years, some faces were still familiar, including those of his parents.

The villagers were terrified when they saw the giant wolf appear at the gate. They didn’t even have the courage to fight back and began to flee. But to the mighty wolf, these insignificant humans were like ants. With a swift motion, it caught one in its jaws and tossed them back.

Those caught were either dead or gravely injured. After a few attacks, the remaining villagers stopped running and trembled in fear.

The wolf, walking gracefully, was the ruler of the snow mountain, a being these people couldn’t hope to challenge. It shook its fur, tossing him to the ground. Looking at the terrified faces, it asked him, “Who hurt you?”

He looked around and pointed out two of them.

With one paw, the wolf crushed them to death, lazily asking, “Anyone else?”

The remaining people trembled, staring at him with terror in their eyes. Among them were his parents, who looked at him as if he were a terrifying demon.

He had always been met with disgust, hatred, contempt, and disdain from them… This was the first time he had been feared.

And he didn’t dislike the feeling at all.

Seeing that he wasn’t speaking for a long time, the wolf seemed a bit impatient and said, “They gave you to me. Do you want to kill them?”

Upon hearing this, the remaining villagers looked utterly despairing.

He thought about it carefully.

In the end, he shook his head.

He didn’t harbor hatred because, if he did, there were too many people to hate—so many that he couldn’t keep track. He should even hate fate, hate the world itself…

But he didn’t have the time to hate.

He didn’t even want to waste another second on these people.

Compared to them, he cared more about staying with the wolf demon. They only had each other.

He grabbed hold of the wolf’s fur and climbed onto its back.

The wolf gave him a cold glance, seeming a little displeased at his boldness, but it didn’t throw him off. Instead, it carried him into the snowy night.

That night, the wolf said to him, “You are mine. As long as I’m here, whoever dares to hurt you, I will kill them.”

The wolf’s tone was cold and ruthless, as if killing was an everyday matter. But to him, those words were the most beautiful he had ever heard. It felt like even his frozen heart had found warmth.

At that moment, he suddenly felt that living wasn’t so bad after all.

No matter how ugly or lowly he was, there was someone willing to protect him.

Even if that someone was a cold, merciless, fearsome demon beast, to him, it was the only light and hope in this world.

Staying by the wolf demon’s side was his only wish. They only had each other…

The wolf demon’s snow mountain was his whole world.

And he thought that was enough.

It was enough.

He hoped it would always stay that way.

And he thought it would.

Until one day, a woman’s arrival changed everything.