Chapter 11

The white-haired boy could no longer hold on; his body collapsed into the grass. Snow fell upon him, covering his body and head, slowly numbing him until he felt no pain. His uninjured eye struggled to lift its eyelid, but the snowflakes fell on his eyes, rendering his vision blurry.

… He was close to death, dying in the tribe.

The white-haired boy waited for death to arrive. He tried hard to conjure the image of his mother, but he could not remember her at all. He only knew that she was from the Wolf Clan, having heard the people in the tribe talk about it, yet he had never seen her.

His father had found a new den, and he darted around the tribe in confusion, always alone. No, it was more accurate to say he was a beast, unable to transform for so long. He felt too afraid to linger in the place where he had grown up.

“He is a beast.”

“He hasn’t transformed yet. Will he harm the cubs?”

“Get away, get away.”

“If you look over here again, I’ll kill you.”

“Why is he still in the tribe if he hasn’t transformed into a human?”

“It’s better to drive him out as soon as possible.”

…

So much, too much.

Since he was little, the white-haired boy had never felt warmth. It was just like today, on this snowy day—so cold, so cold… His consciousness slowly faded, and his icy body could no longer feel any temperature. The eyelids he struggled to lift finally closed bit by bit…

He could hold on no longer.

Zhuo Yan carried a wooden bucket to fetch water. It was nearly noon when the snow began to fall, and now it had accumulated to his ankles. According to Qiao and the others, this was only the beginning of the light snow. He could hardly imagine how cold the winter would be later.

He was dressed only in a leather jacket and a short leather skirt. Logically, wearing this in modern winter would certainly lead to freezing to death. Although it was indeed cold, it wasn’t unbearable yet. Perhaps it was because of the beast genes within him, giving him a certain degree of cold resistance.

Zhuo Yan jogged along, his mind swirling with chaotic thoughts. Even though it wasn’t freezing right now, wearing the leather skirt all the time wasn’t sustainable. It would be best to make some cloth…

He had so many things he needed.

Finally reaching the riverbank, the water flowed with a gurgling sound. Zhuo Yan hoisted the wooden bucket and filled it as much as he could. The weather was bitterly cold, and the snow continued to fall heavily, accumulating on his eyelashes and blurring his vision. Zhuo Yan huffed out a cloud of breath, gripping the bucket with one hand as he started to make his way back.

There weren’t many people living in this area; the nearest den was about a hundred meters deep into the woods.

As Zhuo Yan took a few steps while carrying the bucket, he suddenly heard a rustling sound that made him stop in his tracks. He set the bucket down and strained to listen, looking in the direction of the noise—a patch of grass, about half a person’s height, was swaying.

It wasn’t the sound of snow falling; the movement was too pronounced.

“Who! Who’s there?” Zhuo Yan called out, glancing around for a stick to defend himself. He used the same tactic as before: “I can see you!” Although in reality, he could not.

The grass swayed again.

“Could it be the white-haired boy?” Zhuo Yan muttered to himself, hesitating about whether to approach. Curiosity could lead to danger, after all—

Despite this thought, Zhuo Yan had an innate curiosity. When he was choosing his major in university, his classmates teased him that with such a strong curiosity, he should have studied journalism instead. He always seemed to gravitate towards where the excitement was.

This wasn’t Zhuo Yan’s fault; it was just in the nature of people from his country to gather around excitement.

At this moment, Zhuo Yan approached the edge of the grass patch cautiously, step by step, remaining alert. As he drew nearer, the area shook even more, clearly indicating that something was there. Zhuo Yan contemplated for a moment, gathering his courage to move closer. If it were a large wild beast, he would have already encountered it the moment he made noise.

It seemed like there wasn’t any real danger inside.

With this thought in mind, Zhuo Yan quickened his pace; after all, the snow was heavy, and the weather was frigid. He wanted to get home as soon as possible. Using the stick in his hand, he pushed aside the grass, and as he did so, the tips of the grass began to sway more dramatically. Zhuo Yan’s curiosity grew stronger, and he decided to clear the area more thoroughly. What came into view was—

To his surprise and delight, it was a guinea fowl!

The guinea fowl had an injured wing, with traces of blood. The cold weather and ice had stuck it to the grass. Upon hearing Zhuo Yan’s voice, the bird seemed to want to escape, struggling futilely against its predicament.

Zhuo Yan hadn’t expected such a pleasant surprise—meat, real meat!

The chicken locked eyes with him, then began to flap around wildly. Zhuo Yan felt a strange grin spread across his face, realizing it might look a bit crazy. He couldn’t help but say, “Hey, hey, don’t thrash about! Be good, and I’ll take you home with me.”

The guinea fowl flapped its wings frantically.

“Don’t move! I’m coming!”

Flap, flap.

“Darn it!” Zhuo Yan lunged forward but was a moment too slow, missing his chance. The guinea fowl, driven by its instinct to survive, managed to flap its injured wings and awkwardly began to fly away.

There was no way he was letting go of a chicken he had almost caught!!!

Zhuo Yan was determined, especially since this bird had an injured wing. Chickens in this world were much tougher than the domesticated ones in modern times. Although they could fly, it was only low to the ground. Now, with half of one wing damaged, the bird was wobbling as it attempted to escape—

It was a must-catch!

Zhuo Yan gripped the stick tightly and sprinted after it. The uneven ground of the grass patch slowed his steps, but the guinea fowl’s pace was also faltering. Unknowingly, they were both moving toward the outskirts of the tribe, though they hadn’t left the area yet, still near the riverbank.

The heavy snowfall and frigid temperatures took their toll on the chicken. After being chased by Zhuo Yan for so long, it was clearly reaching its limit.

“Haha—” Zhuo Yan panted heavily, using the wooden stick for support. “Run, why don’t you keep running?” With a couple of quick leaps, he lunged and successfully tackled the guinea fowl to the ground.

Now, he would have meat to eat for the next few days.

The guinea fowl squirmed beneath him, emitting frantic cries. Zhuo Yan swiftly grabbed some nearby dried grass and used it to bind the bird’s wings. Holding it firmly in one hand, he stood up to head back. However, as he did, his foot slipped on the icy ground, causing him to stumble and fall flat on his face.

“Settle down and stop struggling! Otherwise, you’ll end up in the pot tonight,” Zhuo Yan threatened the chicken, trying to regain his composure as he pushed himself off the ground. Just then, his gaze landed a few meters ahead.

There, a bulging area of grass stood half a person high, showing signs of being disturbed, with a small opening revealing something beneath.

Covered in a blanket of white snow, it looked like a tiny hill, clearly indicating that something lay hidden below.

Zhuo Yan was momentarily taken aback. After hesitating for a second, he decided to move closer. People often said his curiosity was too strong; otherwise, he wouldn’t be one to think of ideas on a whim. Whether reading novels or attempting to create something, he had to ponder the details. Before going to sleep, he would watch documentaries about building small cabins in the wilderness, meticulously examining how the visuals matched the narrative. He would consider details like how to smooth the pillars and how to position the windows for smoke ventilation…

Overthinking often gave him the courage to explore.

In just a few steps, Zhuo Yan covered the three to four meters and began to poke at the edge with his stick. Snowflakes cascaded off to the side, revealing a corner of grayish fur. The snow was so pure and white, yet Zhuo Yan recognized it at a glance.

“Is that you, Bai Mao Zi?”

This sight was reminiscent of their first encounter. Back then, although Bai Mao Zi had been thin, his fur was clean and glimmered silver under the sunlight. Even during their later meeting by the river at night, Bai Mao Zi had appeared fluffy and sizable.

But now, beneath the pure white snow, Bai Mao Zi looked very ‘dirty,’ lying completely still… as if he were dead.

Zhuo Yan crouched down. “Bai Mao Zi?” He reached out and poked gently, feeling something hard and unyielding; the fur was frozen solid with ice.

No one answered him.

He touched Bai Mao Zi’s nose, trying to sense a breath. Whether it was due to the extreme cold or something else, all he felt was the biting chill of the wind, with no warmth or breath at all. Hesitating for a moment, he extended his hand toward Bai Mao Zi’s belly, the softest part of the animal. But at that moment, Bai Mao Zi showed no reaction, and his touch was merely icy cold.

It seemed that Bai Mao Zi… was dead.

Zhuo Yan stood up and glanced back at his own den. The guinea fowl in his hand was still flapping about, and his water bucket lay by the riverbank. Even if he managed to rescue Bai Mao Zi, the creature wouldn’t be able to transform. Throughout the long winter, his home would be stocked with nothing but potatoes or taro. The only source of meat—

He had a leftover meat bone that he hadn’t finished, about four to five pounds of white-horned beef, and a guinea fowl in his hand.

Being still underage and a half-beastman, Zhuo Yan possessed greater physical strength than a human, but he couldn’t hunt. Following this path, he was bound to go hungry, and he might not survive the winter. If Bai Mao Zi truly managed to survive, it would be just him and the guinea fowl holed up in the den. Once the door was shut, when spring came next year, Sister Qiao and the others would probably be waiting to collect his corpse, and he’d likely be left with nothing but a pile of bones.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to overpower a starving Bai Mao Zi.

But that was okay; after all, they had only crossed paths a few times. Did Aman and the others really believe in all this? Zhuo Yan chastised himself internally, telling himself not to be foolish. Right now, Bai Mao Zi was likely beyond saving; he might already be dead. Why take the risk? What he needed to do was return to his den, warm himself by the fire, sleep soundly at night, and enjoy some chicken tomorrow—

“It’s impossible to sleep peacefully.” Zhuo Yan had spent a lot of time in self-reflection and internal conflict, but deep down, he knew that if he returned to the den with the chicken and ignored Bai Mao Zi, he would definitely be restless and unable to eat or sleep.

He glanced down at the ground, and after a moment, he saw Bai Mao Zi again, now completely covered by the snow.

“Fine, fine. Coming here was already like picking up a life for free; if he dies, it’s just my bad luck.” Zhuo Yan gritted his teeth and squatted down again, first setting the chicken down; the grass bundle wouldn’t run away—

As it turned out, the guinea fowl had claws and stubbornly stood up, trying to run away.

Zhuo Yan was getting frustrated; he brought the stick down hard, and the chicken was knocked out immediately.

With the ruckus of the chicken gone, Zhuo Yan turned his attention back to Bai Mao Zi. Since he had already made up his mind, he wouldn’t delay any further. He reached down and began to dig Bai Mao Zi out from the snow. The deeper he dug, the more his heart sank; one of Bai Mao Zi’s eyes seemed to be damaged, and his whole body was covered in injuries, frozen stiff.

“I’m trying to save you, so don’t just die on me like this. Do you have any idea how much my silver tabby cat has blessed you? You look just like it; otherwise, I wouldn’t have noticed you at first sight.” Zhuo Yan muttered to himself. Initially worried that he wouldn’t be able to carry Bai Mao Zi, he was surprised to find that the creature was surprisingly light.

He was practically skin and bones.

Zhuo Yan couldn’t help but wonder what Bai Mao Zi had gone through in the past few days.

After managing to secure Bai Mao Zi on his back, he still held onto the unconscious chicken with one hand. He couldn’t use the stick anymore, as one of his arms was occupied supporting Bai Mao Zi, making his progress quite difficult.

“I’ll have to come back down later to grab the water bucket.”

“This is really troublesome.”

“Bai Mao Zi, you better not die.”

“Did you hear me? Hang in there.”

“If you don’t die, and you promise not to eat me, we can team up and live together.”

Once Zhuo Yan made up his mind, he didn’t hesitate any longer; he was determined to see this through. The most critical point was that despite the bitter cold and the uncertainty surrounding Bai Mao Zi’s fate, he was starting to feel optimistic about their future together.

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal if you don’t transform. Once we get used to each other, when spring comes, we’ll have bigger game to hunt. If we don’t want to, we can go after chickens instead, round them up and raise them ourselves. We could even start the first breeding farm in the Leopard Man tribe…”

With that thought, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

“A starving camel is still bigger than a horse. Bai Mao Zi may not be able to transform, but he can understand human speech, so catching a chicken should be no problem. While others raise hunting dogs, I’m in a prehistoric world raising a leopard. Thinking about it like that, it’s actually pretty cool.”

The key point is—

“I don’t have the surname Dongguo, and you’re not a wolf, so there’s a high probability that we’re not going to end up like Mr. Dongguo and the wolf… right?”

He was somewhat deluding himself.

But there was no way around it; if he were to turn back and leave Bai Mao Zi to die, he would inevitably suffer from guilt and inner turmoil. It would be better to listen to his heart and do what he could to save him. Even if Bai Mao Zi didn’t make it and really did die, at least he would have acted honorably and without regret.

“You absolutely cannot die, ahhh!”

Bai Mao Zi was waiting for death to arrive, surrounded by a sea of white. He had no sense of time, and after what felt like an eternity, he found himself transported to a lush grassland, perpetually in spring. Here, he saw many animals: some were bending down to drink water, others basking in the sun, and some were leisurely enjoying their meals.

There was no cold, no hunger, and no beastmen.

…But then again, he wasn’t really a beastman either…

In this place, Bai Mao Zi didn’t feel out of place. No animal showed disdain for him or tried to drive him away. He encountered the leader of a wolf pack, who asked him, “You look a lot like a wolf, but also not quite—are you a wolf?”

“My mother is a wolf, and my father is a leopard.”

“Ah, a leopard! The leopard is over there.” The head wolf gestured in that direction.

Bai Mao Zi lowered his head. Was he being looked down upon again?

The wolf pups in the pack were lively and energetic, urging him, “Come play with us! Stay and play!”

“Alright, if you want to, you can stay,” the head wolf said.

Bai Mao Zi decided to stay. He no longer wished to go to the leopard tribe; they did not welcome him there. Instead, he played joyfully with the wolf pups, basking in the sun. They would lie on his head and back, frolicking around him. Bai Mao Zi had never experienced such playful moments before.

Until—

“Someone is calling for you; it’s time to go back,” the head wolf said.

Bai Mao Zi froze, feeling a pang of realization. No one had paid him any attention or wanted him before.

“…Please don’t die.”

He heard the words, filled with shock and disbelief.

“You need to go back.”

“Someone cares about you.”