Chapter 49.2

 

She glanced upward hesitantly. “Thank you for saving my life, Young Master Tay. This old servant is fine now… but could you please stop pulling at my scalp?”

 

Mu Ling took a step forward, causing Tayun to feel unsteady beneath his feet. Instinctively, the bird flapped its wings and soared back into the sky.

 

Rubbing her head, Mu Ling quickly made her way toward the white fox.

 

Upon approaching, she realized the fox’s injuries were far worse than they had appeared from afar.

 

Its tail bore a fresh wound, likely from being caught between rocks, as evidenced by the stone fragments still embedded in the injury.

 

The left forepaw had been pecked by Tayun, drawing blood, though not severely—it was clear Tayun had shown restraint.

 

When Mu Ling examined the fox’s bones, she discovered its right foreleg was unnaturally soft—a fracture that had never been properly set. This explained why it dragged the paw while walking, leaving it filthy.

 

Its body was covered in both fresh and old blood stains.

 

Mu Ling sighed deeply, gazing at the fragile, nearly lifeless fox. Gently lifting it in her arms, she walked out of the dark forest.

 

Two black martens, who had fled earlier from the gunfire, cautiously returned. Standing on a nearby tree trunk, they silently watched Mu Ling leave.

 

Back at her vehicle, Mu Ling opened the medical kit and carefully treated the fox’s two fresh wounds. She placed it gently on the back seat before taking the driver’s seat and heading back.

 

Tayun continued flying overhead. Along the way, Mu Ling called to it several times. The bird obediently descended to drink water and nibble on bird food, but always insisted on flying off again afterward. Seeing it still had energy, Mu Ling let it go.

 

By the time they arrived at the service area, it was already 8 PM.

 

As soon as Mu Ling drove into the plaza, she heard Xiao Zhao’s voice ring out: “The director is back! The director is back!”

 

Instantly, heads popped out from every direction—the veterinary station, supermarket, garage, and dormitory buildings.

 

Mu Ling hadn’t even finished parking when a crowd gathered around her car, led by Zhao Fang and Wei Li.

 

“Director, why are you so late?” Wei Li asked anxiously. “You didn’t even respond to your walkie-talkie!”

 

Mu Ling checked her device and grimaced. “Oh no, it’s out of battery.”

 

Wei Li sighed. “Brother Xiang went up the mountain to look for you. I’ll tell him to come back.” He stepped away from the crowd, raising his walkie-talkie: “Brother Xiang, the director is back. Come down quickly.”

 

Feeling sheepish, Mu Ling stood on tiptoe, watching Wei Li’s back while murmuring, “I had spare batteries in the car… I just forgot to check.”

 

Zhao Fang turned to her. “Director, did you find Lingren?”

 

Mu Ling nodded and opened the back door. Everyone fell silent at the sight of the motionless, blood-covered white fox.

 

“Please make way,” Mu Ling said, carefully lifting the fox. “I need to take it to the veterinary station.”

 

The crowd parted immediately.

 

After placing the fox on the operating table, Mu Ling went to retrieve Tayun, returning it to the animal dormitory before hurrying back to the veterinary station.

 

With the Director back, the others dispersed. Though they wanted to see the white fox, they didn’t dare disturb the Director during treatment.

 

While she was treating the fox’s wounds, the station door opened, and Xiang Bie entered.

 

Mu Ling felt a surge of guilt. “Brother Xiang, I’m so sorry. I—”

 

“It’s fine,” he said calmly. “My walkie-talkie has broken before too. What matters is that you’re safe.”

 

Remembering how she couldn’t contact him for two days last time, Mu Ling sighed. “Next time, I’ll upgrade everyone to solar-charged models.”

 

Xiang Bie remained silent. He washed his hands thoroughly, dried them, and began assisting her by passing tools.

 

While suturing the wounds, Mu Ling recounted everything that had happened since finding the fox.

 

When she mentioned being attacked, Xiang Bie’s brows furrowed as he turned to examine her carefully.

 

Mu Ling grinned reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’m fine! I’m quite clever, you know – I immediately wrapped myself in protective clothing!”

 

“No helmet,” he said pointedly.

 

“Well…” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “I was a bit careless. It absolutely won’t happen again.”

 

Xiang Bie said no more, but his eyes returned to the fox’s injuries. “The paw pads are torn.”

 

Indeed, beyond its other wounds, all four paw pads were severely damaged—worse than if it had walked hundreds of kilometers.

 

“What could it have gone through?” Mu Ling wondered aloud, still puzzled by why the fox had traveled from the inner zone to the outer zone, ending up in such terrible condition.

 

After finishing the sutures, Mu Ling began setting the fractured bones.

 

Suddenly, the unconscious fox twitched and let out a faint sound: “Gah…”

 

The thin whimper was barely audible, and the fox immediately fell silent again.

 

Startled, Mu Ling jumped back several paces.

 

“It’s not awake,” Xiang Bie assured her, having watched the fox carefully for two full minutes without movement.

 

Mu Ling exhaled in relief and cautiously returned. “Though it’s still unconscious, it seems close to waking. Its medical records mentioned this might happen.”

 

Xiang Bie pulled up the files and looked, then said, “The medical records state that it has a sensitive constitution and metabolizes common anesthetics too quickly. It needs higher quality anesthetics to be effectively sedated.”

 

Mu Ling’s expression softened. “Beautiful appearance, noble bearing, those rare violet eyes, and even a sensitive constitution—what kind of fairy tale princess character is this?”

 

“It’s male,” Xiang Bie pointed out.

 

Mu Ling paused, lifted the fox’s hind leg to check, then fell silent. “Oh… a fairy prince, then.”

 

She stroked its fur thoughtfully. “So this is what they mean by feminine-looking beauty? It’s quite mysterious. And its name, Lingren—like the male performers of Ancient Blue Star. It all fits!”

 

Seeing Mu Ling completely enchanted, Xiang Bie remained quiet for a moment before asking, “Do you know why it’s called Lingren?”

 

“Of course!” Mu Ling replied, finishing the bandaging. “Because it’s as beautiful as a famous performer, right?”

 

“No.”

 

“No?” She looked up, surprised.

 

Xiang Bie pressed his lips together. “Because since childhood, it had the most unpleasant, raspy duck-like voice in the war beast nursery. Its owner hoped it would develop a clear, melodious tone like a famous singer. Hence the name.”

 

Mu Ling stared at him. “And did it?”

 

“No. Still sounds like a duck.”

 

Mu Ling choked for a moment, then stubbornly stroked the white fox’s beautiful head fur again, insisting, “Nonsense! I think its voice is unique and lovely. Even if it is duck-like, it’s the most charming duck voice ever!”

 

Xiang Bie said nothing.

 

Mu Ling quickly finished treating the white fox’s wounds, then roughly cleaned the blood from its body, and hurriedly carried it to the recovery ward before it woke up.

 

As she entered the ward area, the Silver Snow bear in A4 suddenly stood up.

 

It hurried to its cage door, gripping its empty food bowl, eyes fixed on Mu Ling.

 

“It’s been doing that since lunch,” Xiang Bie explained. “Looking at the speaker, then the door—waiting for you.”

 

Mu Ling’s heart melted. She hurried to the bear’s cage and crouched down. “Moonlight, I’m so sorry! Sister had an emergency today and couldn’t feed you. But you’re such a good bear, eating all your food—you’re absolutely the most wonderful bear in the world!”

 

The bear set down its bowl and, after a shy glance at Mu Ling, retrieved its teddy bear and retreated to its corner.

 

“Moonlight, come here!” Mu Ling called softly. “Can sister pet you?”

 

The bear didn’t approach but rubbed its head against the wall, seeming bashful.

 

Despite Mu Ling’s continued coaxing, Moonlight maintained its distance, though it showed signs of wanting to come closer.

 

Finally, her legs numb from crouching, Mu Ling stood. “Alright then, sister will come feed you first thing tomorrow morning.”

 

Tonight, Xiang Bie was on night duty at the veterinary station again. Mu Ling felt embarrassed and offered to take over, but Xiang Bie told her it wasn’t necessary and to go rest. Mu Ling was indeed tired after the long day, so she suggested someone else could come, but Xiang Bie still declined.

 

Seeing Brother Xiang’s insistence, Mu Ling had no choice but to quietly make a mental note to give him a raise, then returned to the dormitory.

 

At midnight, while Mu Ling slept soundly, Moonlight woke to strange sounds. Opening its dark eyes, it peered across to the distant cage where the white fox was limping anxiously back and forth.

 

Curious about another white-furred creature, Moonlight rose, clutching its teddy bear, and moved to the edge of its cage to watch.

 

The gentle nighttime sounds had been soothing until suddenly—

 

“Gah!” A harsh cry split the silence.

 

Moonlight froze, blinking in surprise.

 

The fox, sensing a threat, lowered its body into an aggressive stance and unleashed another cry: “Gah!”

 

The sound was piercing and discordant.

 

Xiang Bie rushed in at the noise. The fox, now feeling cornered, flattened its ears against its head, its beautiful violet eyes trembling. Despite its weakness and bleeding wounds, it continued its harsh cries—not the usual soft fox sounds, but sharp “gah-gah” noises.

 

It was trying to ward off perceived threats, clearly terrified in the unfamiliar environment.

 

As Xiang Bie considered whether to fetch Mu Ling, Moonlight began spinning in its cage, occasionally pausing to rub its ears against the ground or paw at them desperately.

 

“Gah-gah!” The fox, not understanding the bear’s behavior, grew more frightened and called more loudly.

 

The louder it cried, the more frantically Moonlight spun. Finally, the bear retreated to its corner, pressing its head against the wall and covering its ears with both paws.

 

The sound-sensitive bear had never encountered such an assault on its ears before. For the first time in its life, Moonlight truly understood acoustic distress.