Chapter 41: The Lingnai Fawn
Through his rifle scope, the poacher boss locked onto the trembling fawn.
It’s a bit too small, he thought. Not even enough meat for a decent meal.
It lacked the magnificent antlers of a full-grown stag, too. If they could just get their hands on a mature pair of antlers, it would be a massive payout. He briefly considered letting the fawn go so they could track it back to the herd, but seeing how severely it was limping, he shook his head. With an injury like that, it would probably bleed out before it ever found its mother.
Might as well enjoy some fresh meat, he decided. He remembered the last batch of fawns they had caught—the meat had been incredibly tender and delicious. He licked his lips, unable to stop himself from swallowing hard.
“Now!”
He seized the perfect angle and wrapped his finger around the trigger. But just as he applied pressure, a suffocating sense of dread washed over him.
A flash of light blinded him, followed instantly by a piercing agony in his forehead. The sheer force of the impact threw him backward, slamming him heavily into the dirt. It felt as though his skull had been driven through with a spike. The pain was blinding.
Warm liquid trickled down his face. He reached up, his trembling fingers coming away slick with blood.
“Who’s there?” he gasped. “Is that you, Lao Er?”
He forced his heavy head to turn, only to find his second-in-command collapsed on the ground beside him. A bloody hole had been punched clean through Lao Er’s forehead, dark blood pooling rapidly in the dirt.
His eyes widened in sheer terror. Someone is out there. Someone is hunting us!
He struggled to push himself up, but his limbs refused to obey. His body was paralyzed by the agonizing pain.
“Who is it?!”
The fear of the unseen shooter made him shake violently. His consciousness began to slip, the edges of his vision bleeding into darkness. In his final, lucid moments, a horrifying realization dawned on him: Was this how the third and fourth brothers died, too?
He strained his eyes, desperate to spot his killer in the brush. But it was too late. Regret washed over him—why hadn’t he been more vigilant? The darkness swallowed him whole, and his life faded away. Beside him, Lao Er lay motionless, his eyes frozen wide open in unwillingness.
Everything had happened in the blink of an eye.
Before the two Wind Wolves could even register the ambush, their masters had been thrown to the ground. The wolves exchanged a terrified glance, then immediately turned back-to-back, their hackles raised as they scanned the swaying grass for the source of the attack.
But the forest was empty. There was only the haunting whisper of the wind through the trees.
What just happened?
Suddenly, a searing pain erupted in their chests. The agony tore outward from their hearts, ravaging their entire bodies. They choked, coughing up mouthfuls of dark blood.
It was the backlash of the contract!
Wait… backlash? That meant their masters were dead!
Ignoring the excruciating pain tearing through their veins, the two Wind Wolves scrambled around to check the poachers. Sure enough, the humans’ life auras had completely vanished.
A wild, desperate hope ignited in the wolves’ eyes. With their masters dead, they were finally free!
Without a second of hesitation, they bolted. Their hearts hammered against their ribs, and the phantom pain of the broken contracts continued to pulse through them, but they didn’t care. They didn’t dare stop, terrified that whatever invisible force had blown holes through their masters’ heads would target them next.
Run! Run! Run!
The fawn collapsed, its leg burning with a white-hot agony. It desperately wanted to stand up and keep running, but its tiny body had absolutely no strength left. It had exhausted all its energy trying to use its abilities.
Relying entirely on sheer survival instinct, it dragged itself forward, an inch at a time. It just wanted to live. It wanted to find its mother. It wanted to go home.
But this time… I’m really going to die, aren’t I?
The fawn was paralyzed with fear. Why was it so unlucky to have run into poachers? As the shadow of death loomed over it, it suddenly realized something strange. The terrifying footsteps and voices behind it had stopped.
The silence was even more terrifying. Trembling, the little deer managed to glance back.
The two humans were lying face-down in a pool of their own blood, completely motionless. There were gaping holes in their foreheads.
Dead?
A wave of pure ecstasy rushed through the fawn. The poachers were dead! It was safe! It was so relieved it actually managed to scramble to its feet, eager to run away. But before it could take a single step, the world spun into darkness, and it crumpled heavily to the ground.
Only now did it dare to look closely at its injured leg. The bullet was lodged deep in the muscle. Without removing it, the fawn’s natural recovery abilities were completely useless. It whimpered, trying to stretch its neck to bite the bullet out, but it couldn’t reach it.
Am I really going to die right here?
Tears welled up in the little deer’s large, dark eyes. It missed its mother so much. She was still out there somewhere, waiting for it to come home.
High above in the aircraft, the monitor displayed the gruesome aftermath of the poachers.
Su Wudeng leaned back, processing what she had just seen. It was her first time realizing just how infested this forest was with poachers. She had counted four or five different individuals on the cameras, but their equipment and auras were vastly different.
“Could they be from different poaching syndicates?” she mused aloud. “That’s a bit too coincidental. For multiple gangs to set their sights on this exact patch of forest at the same time… Who leaked the coordinates? And what exactly is hidden in these woods that has them all swarming here?”
Su Wudeng frowned, a deep sense of unease settling in her chest. Thankfully, the automated orbital defenses she had purchased were incredibly lethal. Not a single poacher had escaped.
But then she replayed the final shot. Just before the orbital strike hit, the two poachers had been aiming their rifles at something specific in the brush.
Su Wudeng quickly zoomed in on the frozen frame. “Wait, look at that patch of grass… why were they aiming there?”
Yingying, the snow leopard, leaned her large head closer to the screen. “That might not be normal grass,” she pointed out. “It’s the Lingnai Deer. They possess dual affinities for healing and plant growth. That patch of grass was likely manifested by the deer to use as camouflage. But judging by the size of the brush… this deer must be a very young fawn!”
Su Wudeng was amazed. She hadn’t expected a pet to have such incredible utility. If a Lingnai Deer could rapidly accelerate plant growth, couldn’t they turn a completely barren wasteland green again? The potential was staggering!
But her awe faded instantly as she noticed a grim detail on the screen.
“Yingying, something is wrong. That patch of grass is moving way too slowly. Do you think it got shot?”
On the screen, the poachers were already dead, but the grass ball was just inching pitifully across the dirt.
Yingying’s expression turned grave. “It’s highly likely. If that’s the case, this is terrible. The fawn is injured and bleeding out. If we don’t treat it in time, it won’t survive.”
Su Wudeng immediately locked onto the coordinates and banked the aircraft hard toward the fawn’s location.
“Hold on,” Su Wudeng commanded. “We aren’t far. We can make it in time!”
The fawn lay helplessly in the dirt. It had tried to stand up multiple times, but the blinding pain kept forcing it back down.
Its body was instinctively trying to activate its healing abilities, but it was a curse in disguise. Every time the new, tender flesh tried to knit itself back together, it would scrape violently against the jagged metal of the bullet buried in its bone, tearing the wound open all over again.
It was an endless, agonizing cycle. The fawn was simply too young to properly control its own magic, and the repeated strain was rapidly draining its life force. Its breathing grew shallow and ragged. Its vision blurred into a gray haze.
Will I never see my mother again?
Suddenly, a strange, terrifying sound reached its ears. A low, rhythmic rumbling echoed from above, growing louder by the second. The fawn’s ears flicked up, every muscle in its tiny body locking in terror.
What is that?
Panic flooded its mind. It thought of the cruel poachers and the deafening crack of their rifles. Its body began to shake uncontrollably. Were more humans coming to kill it?
Using the absolute last ounce of its strength, the fawn buried itself as deeply into the magical grass ball as it could. The soft blades brushed against its fur, offering a pathetic, fleeting sense of comfort.
A short distance away, the aircraft touched down silently.
Su Wudeng had deliberately parked a bit further away to avoid startling the creature. Following Yingying’s sharp nose, she hurried through the brush toward the coordinates.
Soon enough, they spotted it: an unnatural, dense clump of grass sitting in the middle of a clearing. It was trembling violently.
Su Wudeng’s eyes lit up. “It’s still alive!”
The fact that it was moving meant the bullet hadn’t hit a vital organ. She rushed over and gently parted the grass.
Inside, the fawn lay paralyzed. It had no strength left to run; it could only listen in sheer despair as the heavy footsteps closed in. When the canopy of grass was pulled away and the bright sunlight hit its face, it violently flinched.
Tears immediately spilled over its cheeks. It was a human. And right beside her was a massive, terrifying snow leopard!
The snow leopard was its absolute natural enemy!
The little deer was drowning in despair. How are they going to kill me? Are they going to shoot me again? Or is the big cat going to tear me apart?
I’m so sorry, Mom…
But then, a pair of warm, gentle hands carefully cupped its injured leg. The unexpected warmth made the deer shudder, and a soft, soothing voice drifted into its ears.
“Don’t be afraid, little one.”
Su Wudeng gently stroked the trembling creature. “It hurts a lot right here, doesn’t it? I’m going to help you take the bad thing out. You just have to stay very still for me, okay?”
Seeing the massive teardrops rolling out of the fawn’s dark eyes, Su Wudeng felt her heart break. The tears left wet tracks down its dusty face. It must be in so much pain. It was so incredibly small, its fragile bones feeling like twigs beneath her hands.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
She kept her voice low and melodic, constantly stroking its back to soothe its frayed nerves. Under her gentle touch, the fawn’s violent trembling slowly began to subside.
Working efficiently, Su Wudeng carefully examined the wound. The bullet was lodged deep against the bone and needed to come out immediately.
“Little guy,” she whispered, “I have to give you a quick injection. It’s going to pinch for a second, but then the pain will go away, I promise.”
The moment the fawn saw the needle, panic flashed in its wet eyes. It tried to thrash away, but it simply lacked the strength. Su Wudeng swiftly and accurately administered the local anesthetic. The fawn let out a pitiful, high-pitched whimper.
“Shh, you’re doing so good,” Su Wudeng praised, rubbing its ears. “The pain will be gone in just a moment.”
As the numbing agent took effect, the fawn blinked in confusion. The agonizing fire in its leg was suddenly… gone. The whole limb just felt heavy and numb.
Wasting no time, Su Wudeng retrieved her medical extraction tool and carefully went to work.
“Almost there… and got it! You were so brave!”
She pulled the deformed bullet free with a sigh of relief. Moving quickly, she injected the fawn with a blood-replenishing serum and expertly bandaged the wound.
Throughout the entire process, the terrified fawn had kept its eyes squeezed shut, absolutely convinced it was about to be eaten. Its tears had practically soaked the dirt beneath its chin.
Yingying, watching from the side, couldn’t bear it anymore. “Don’t cry, little one,” she purred softly. “My master just saved your life.”
But hearing the apex predator speak only terrified the fawn further. It let out a muffled sob. Why can’t I feel my leg?! It didn’t dare complain to the snow leopard. If it could have run, it would have been long gone by now.
Seeing the fawn so thoroughly petrified by Yingying, Su Wudeng couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Alright, that’s enough crying, little brave one. The hardest part is over.” She scratched beneath the fawn’s chin. “Do you feel a bit better now? Wait… are you hungry?”
The little deer just lay there limply, completely exhausted by the ordeal.
Su Wudeng pulled a baby bottle from her tactical backpack. If the wound was going to heal quickly, the fawn needed immediate nutrients. An IV drip would be fastest, but she didn’t want to traumatize the poor thing with another needle. The bottle, filled with a specialized, nutrient-dense formula for young pets, was perfect.
She pressed the silicone nipple gently against the fawn’s mouth. A rich, sweet, milky aroma drifted into the air.
The fawn’s nose twitched. It smelled just like its mother’s milk. Instinct took over, and it parted its jaws, latching onto the bottle. The warm, sweet liquid flooded its mouth, and its dark eyes snapped wide open in delight. It immediately began to suck greedily.
Su Wudeng smiled warmly, wiping a tear from the fawn’s cheek. “Such a good baby.”
As the nutrient milk hit its stomach, the fawn could physically feel its strength returning. The magical energy within its body flared back to life, rushing toward its injured leg. A deep, tingling itch replaced the numbness beneath the bandages.
This human… she really saved me. She’s so gentle, the fawn realized.
“How does it feel?” Su Wudeng asked, noticing the shift in the creature’s aura.
The fawn shifted its weight and experimentally flexed its leg.
Yo-yo~ It let out a soft cry. It doesn’t hurt anymore! It just tickles!
Seeing the deer regain its vitality, Su Wudeng finally breathed easily. “You need to rest and let that heal properly. Why don’t you come back home with us for a few days? Once you’re fully recovered, you can go wherever you want.”
The fawn hesitated, glancing between the kind human and the massive snow leopard. Finally, it gently shook its head.
Yo-yo~ I need to find my Mom…
Yingying huffed anxiously. “Your wound was really deep! How about this—you come back with us, and I’ll go track down your mother and tell her where you are?”
The fawn’s eyes widened in sheer horror. The thought of this terrifying giant cat approaching its mother made it shiver violently.
Yo-yo! No, please no! If Mom saw you, she’d die of fright!
Determined, the fawn forced itself onto its feet. It favored the injured leg, but it was able to walk. It limped a few steps toward the treeline, then paused and looked back over its shoulder.
Yo-yo~ Thank you!
With a final nod, it vanished into the dense undergrowth.
Yingying nudged Su Wudeng’s hand with her cold nose. “Should I follow it to make sure it’s safe?”
Su Wudeng sighed, watching the bushes sway. “No, let it go. It clearly doesn’t want us following it. It was almost murdered by humans today; it’s natural for it to be terrified of us. I just hope its innate healing magic is enough to stave off an infection.”
She had felt the thrum of the deer’s magic while she was extracting the bullet. It was weak, but definitely active. It would survive.
She tried to stand up, but her legs had fallen completely asleep from crouching for so long. She pitched forward, almost face-planting into the dirt. Yingying reacted instantly, darting forward to brace her master’s weight.
Su Wudeng laughed, throwing her arms around Yingying’s thick neck and burying her face in the luxurious fur. “Thank you, Yingying! You’re the best!”
Yingying purred loudly, wrapping her massive, fluffy tail around Su Wudeng’s waist to help stabilize her. The snow leopard puffed out her chest with absolute pride.
After a minute, the blood flow returned to Su Wudeng’s legs. She stood up properly, packed her medical kit, and walked over to the corpses of the poachers.
The blood pooling beneath their heads had already begun to coagulate. She glanced up at the clear blue sky. Whoever—or whatever—her orbital defenses had targeted them with was incredibly precise.
She picked up the two dropped hunting rifles. They were grimy and coated in dried blood. One of them was missing a round from the chamber—the very bullet she had just pulled out of the fawn. Disgusted, she shoved both weapons into her inventory, then picked up the boss’s heavy canvas backpack.
The moment she unzipped it, the stench of dried blood hit her.
Her expression darkened. The bag was stuffed full of pelts and animal parts. Wolf fangs, tiger claws, fresh deer antlers, and dozens of strange, shimmering feathers and scales she couldn’t even identify.
Her stomach churned. Just how many innocent pets did these bastards slaughter?
Every single item in the bag represented a stolen life. Her throat tightened, a knot of cold fury forming in her chest.
She grabbed a folding shovel from her gear, marched over to a clearing beneath a large tree, and began to dig. These men were already dead, but she refused to let their victims become mere trophies. She would bury these remains and return them to the earth, giving them the rest they deserved.
Once the pit was deep enough, she carefully laid the pelts, fangs, and feathers inside. As the soil covered the final shimmering scale, she stood up and stamped the dirt flat.
“Absolute scum,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “A quick death was far too merciful for you.”
Yingying leaned against her legs, letting out a soft, comforting trill. Don’t be sad, Master. They can’t hurt anyone else now.
Su Wudeng took a deep breath. Anger wouldn’t change the past, but she swore to herself that she would stop this from ever happening again on her mountain.
With the grim task done, she inspected the rest of the backpack’s contents. Most of it consisted of harvested spiritual plants.
“These plants…” she muttered, examining a strange, broad leaf. “These don’t grow anywhere near my cabin.”
She pulled up the scanner on her smart glasses. It identified several deep-sea aquatic herbs, their emerald leaves dotted with bioluminescent spots that glowed faintly even in the daylight. However, the system couldn’t identify their medicinal properties. Judging by the dense hum of energy radiating from them, they were at least high-tier spiritual materials.
“I’ll have Professor Yang examine these later.”
Beneath the plants lay several perfectly round luminous pearls, emitting a soft, milky glow.
Night pearls… deep-sea spiritual plants… Did these guys smuggle all this from across the ocean? A dark theory was beginning to form in her mind.
But it was the next item that made her catch her breath.
“Good heavens, look at these gems!”
She pulled out a massive, flawless blue crystal. It was breathtaking, the deep cerulean hue mirroring the darkest depths of the ocean. It looked exactly like a top-grade aquamarine from her past life—pure, perfectly translucent, and devoid of any inclusions. Beside it was an equally stunning emerald, radiating a warm, vibrant green like newly sprouted spring leaves.
“If I were back on Earth, these would easily fetch tens of millions at auction,” she marveled. She carefully tucked them away. She could polish them later and set them into jewelry.
The final item in the bag was a heavy, metallic token. It was engraved with a complex, swirling cloud motif that resembled an ancient totem. On the back, a line of cryptic characters was etched into the metal. She ran the smart glasses over it, but the translation software returned an error.
“Could this be the insignia of their poaching syndicate?” she wondered, securing the token in an inner pocket to show Professor Yang.
Suddenly, Yingying tensed, sniffing the air aggressively.
“Master,” the snow leopard growled low in her throat, “the two Wind Wolves that belonged to those men… they ran away. Their scent trail is fresh. Do you want me to track them down?”
Su Wudeng heavily considered it. The Wind Wolves were the only living link to understanding who had sent these men. But as she looked up, she frowned.
The bright blue sky had vanished. In a matter of minutes, thick, bruised storm clouds had rolled over the canopy. The air was suddenly heavy and thick with the smell of ozone and damp earth. A torrential downpour was imminent.
Once the rain hit, the wolves’ scent would be instantly washed away. It would be a wild goose chase. She would be better off returning to the cabin and analyzing the surveillance footage.
“Let’s head back,” Su Wudeng decided. “The sky is about to open up.”
Girl and leopard sprinted back to the aircraft just as the first fat raindrops began to slap against the leaves.
Su Wudeng fired up the thrusters and the ship lifted smoothly into the air. Through the viewport, she looked down at the sprawling forest one last time. The fawn was long gone, swallowed by the undulating ocean of green.
I really hope you find your mother, little one, she thought. I didn’t even get to give you a name.
As predicted, the skies tore open halfway through their flight. Rain came down in absolute sheets, hammering violently against the aircraft’s reinforced glass.
It was the first time she had witnessed such a massive storm since arriving in this era. Looking down, the forest was cloaked in a misty, ethereal beauty. The vibrant green canopy looked almost painted beneath the gray wash of the rain, the distant mountains shrouded in a veil of fog.
“It’s stunning,” she whispered.
Then she blinked. “Oh crap, I never turned off the live broadcast!”
She quickly pulled up the stream interface. During the tense rescue, the chat had been crying hysterically over the injured fawn, but now the mood had completely shifted.
[User 883]: The sound of this rain hitting the glass is pure ASMR. [CozyGamer]: This is the first time a rainy day hasn’t made me miserable. [OfficeDrone]: Rain in the city just means wet socks and awful traffic. Rain in the forest… it feels so different. It’s like it’s washing my soul clean. [InsomniacFox]: Anyone else getting sleepy? I’ve had a stress-migraine for three days and haven’t slept a wink, but listening to this, I think I could finally pass out.
While the sheer volume of comments had slowed down, the actual viewer count was steadily climbing. People were just tuning in to watch the rain.
Su Wudeng smiled, her own heart feeling remarkably peaceful. “I’m glad you guys are enjoying it.”
The aircraft touched down gracefully on the landing pad near the cabin.
Su Wudeng and Yingying sprinted through the torrential downpour, but they still got soaked to the bone in the ten seconds it took to reach the porch. She shoved the front door open, instantly greeted by a stampede of tiny paws.
The Snow Crystal Cat and the little Husky pup were frantic with excitement.
“Meow!”
“Woof! Woof!”
Su Wudeng laughed, taking a quick step back. “Down, guys, down! Don’t jump on me, I’m dripping wet!”
The pets immediately stopped, their tails wagging fast enough to generate wind as they danced in circles around her boots.
She quickly stripped off her wet coat and changed into dry clothes before scooping the little ones up. She checked their fur, relieved to find them completely dry. “Good job, you guys made it inside before the storm hit! Who’s a smart baby? You are! Give me a kiss!”
But as she set them down, she realized something was missing. Or rather, someone. A very large, very loud someone.
“Wait… where’s Amber?” She searched the living room, checked the kitchen, and peered into the bedrooms. No golden retriever.
“That idiot dog. Why didn’t he come back when the rain started?” She shook her head in fond exasperation. “He’s probably having the time of his life splashing in the mud.”
She checked her mental contract link. Amber’s aura was perfectly stable and calm. He had likely just found shelter in a cave or under a thick tree to wait out the worst of the storm.
She walked over to the window, leaning her forehead against the cool glass. The forest was heavily obscured by the driving rain. Leaves danced wildly in the wind, tangling with the falling water. It made the rugged wilderness look soft and dreamlike.
The audience in the live broadcast was completely mesmerized by the view, the bullet screen slowing to a trickle of appreciative comments.
After admiring the storm for a few minutes, Su Wudeng turned back to the kitchen. She froze.
Piled high on the wooden dining table was a massive mound of raw pine nuts and chestnuts.
“Where did these come from?”
She connected the dots instantly. It had to be Amber’s doing. Last week, she had casually mentioned offhand that she missed eating roasted pine nuts. The giant glutton must have remembered and coerced the local squirrel population into paying him a tribute!
“Well, since we’re stuck inside anyway, I might as well roast them.”
She gathered the nuts, washed them thoroughly in the sink, and pulled out a large, heavy-bottomed frying pan. She decided to do the pine nuts first.
Pouring them into the dry pan, she set the stove to a low simmer. The pine nuts began to hop in the heat, letting out satisfying little pops and crackles. A rich, woody, distinctly buttery aroma slowly began to fill the cabin. Su Wudeng gently stirred them with a wooden spatula, making sure the heat distributed evenly.
Her mouth watered as the scent grew heavier.
Once they were perfectly toasted, she poured them into a ceramic bowl and started on the chestnuts. Taking a small knife, she carefully scored an ‘X’ into the rounded shell of each nut before tossing them into the pan.
Under the low heat, the tough outer shells slowly peeled back along the cut lines, revealing the vibrant, golden-yellow meat inside. The deep, sugary, caramelized scent of roasting chestnuts exploded into the air, blending perfectly with the savory aroma of the pine nuts.
Back in the stream, the viewers who had been peacefully dozing off to the rain ASMR were abruptly jolted awake. Thanks to the stream’s sensory-immersion tech, the smell was flooding straight into their living rooms.
[HungryHippo]: Wait, what is that heavenly smell?! [SnackKing]: DAMN IT! The host is roasting food! [SleepyPanda]: I was having the best nap of my life and my stomach literally woke me up roaring. [NutCraze]: Look at those pine nuts! They are massive and so plump! [SweetTooth]: The color on those chestnuts is insane. They look like pure candy. [Cryingrn]: Host, please, I am begging you, let me have just one!
Su Wudeng laughed as she transferred the piping-hot snacks onto two wooden serving trays and carried them to the table.
The golden pine nuts gleamed with natural oils, while the dark mahogany shells of the chestnuts contrasted beautifully with the sweet, yellow flesh bursting from within.
The Snow Crystal Cat and the Husky pup were practically vibrating, sitting perfectly politely at her feet but staring intensely at the trays. Even Yingying, a strict carnivore, couldn’t resist the smell. The snow leopard padded over, her eyes half-closed as she inhaled deeply, the tip of her long tail twitching rapidly.
“Smells incredible, doesn’t it?” Su Wudeng teased.
Yingying nudged her master’s elbow. Whine~ Master, Yingying wants to try it!
Su Wudeng melted at their pleading eyes. “Alright, alright, you all get a taste.”
She picked up a chestnut, easily popping off the scored shell, and fed the warm, golden center to the little Husky. Then she shelled another for the cat, and finally one for Yingying.
The chat was losing its absolute mind.
[DepressedWorker]: I literally have a worse quality of life than that cat. [DogLover]: Host, please consider adopting a 25-year-old human! I don’t eat much! [Dizzy]: The smell is so good I’m actually getting dizzy. [MailMeFood]: HOST! I know you couldn’t mail us the grilled fish from the other day, but dry-roasted nuts ship perfectly fine! Open a storefront! TAKE MY MONEY!
Su Wudeng popped a chestnut into her own mouth. The rich, caramelized sweetness melted across her tongue.
“Wow,” she sighed in delight. “I outdid myself. These are perfectly sweet and fragrant. 10 out of 10!”
The chat howled in culinary agony.
Seeing the sheer desperation scrolling across her screen, Su Wudeng relented. “Alright, you guys are too passionate. I feel bad eating these all by myself. Let’s do a quick giveaway event!”
The chat immediately spiked in speed.
“Once the storm clears up, I’ll track down the local squirrels and barter for a few more batches of nuts. I’ll roast them up and mail them out to the winners, how does that sound?”
[WifeMaterial]: THIS IS WHY YOU ARE MY WIFE! Gorgeous and generous! [PickMe]: Pick me! Pick me! I haven’t eaten a real chestnut in years!
“Get your fingers ready,” Su Wudeng chuckled. “I’ll do a three-second countdown, then I’ll take a screenshot of the chat. Whoever’s name is in the frame wins a batch. Ready?”
“3… 2… 1… Screenshot!”
The live broadcast erupted into cheers. Through the holographic projection tech, the viewers felt like they were sitting right there in the cabin with her. Surrounded by adorable, fluffy pets, the smell of roasted nuts hanging thickly in the warm air, listening to the heavy rain battering the roof… it was absolute paradise.
[CitySlicker]: Just looking at this stream cures my anxiety. [DreamLife]: The rain, the food, the pets… this is literally the perfect life. [RentMe]: Host, can I rent a room in your cabin for a weekend? Name your price!
Thick, fragrant steam curled up from the hot nuts, drifting lazily toward the open chimney vent and out into the stormy mountain air.
A mile away, at the absolute edge of the forest, the massive, tangled roots of an ancient tree formed a natural, shallow cave.
From the pitch-black shadows beneath the roots, a weak, raspy “meow” echoed against the drumming rain.
A calico cat slowly dragged itself forward into the dim light. It was skin and bones, its beautiful tri-colored fur plastered flat against its emaciated frame by the freezing rain. It stared out across the flooded forest toward the distant, glowing yellow window of the cabin.
Even battered, starved, and soaked, the cat’s facial markings were utterly breathtaking.
It lifted its chin, its nose twitching weakly. It had caught the faint scent of roasted meat and caramelized sugar drifting on the wind. Its sunken stomach let out a violent, painful rumble.
Suddenly, the rustling of leaves announced the arrival of two small orange kittens. They bounded out of the rain and into the dry shelter of the roots, dropping a freshly caught, albeit mangled, field mouse in front of the calico.
“You need to eat,” one of the orange kittens mewed frantically.
“Your injury is too bad. Please, just take a bite!”
The two kittens pressed themselves gently against the calico’s sides, trying to share their body heat. They looked down at the calico’s front leg, their eyes filled with sorrow.
A massive, deep gash tore through the calico’s shoulder. The flesh was mutilated, the bone dangerously exposed—a horrifying, lethal wound left completely untreated in the storm.
