WBICDPH Chapter 118

Chapter 118: Tracks in the Snow

“You… you…”

Hearing those words, Xiao Lanqi’s eyes widened. He avoided Lin Jin’s gaze, his pointed ears tilting slightly backward as he struggled for a long time to say anything at all.

What nonsense was this ridiculous human suddenly spouting?!

Like… like was that something you could just casually say?! Humans really were such fickle creatures. It wasn’t even mating season, and Lin Jin wasn’t a woman, so how could he so casually tell a man—tell him—that he liked him?! Did friendship require saying things like that? How frivolous!

Xiao Lanqi adjusted his sitting posture, but no matter how he sat, he felt uncomfortable. He shook out his hands, unable to find anywhere natural to put them.

He blamed all of it on Lin Jin’s shocking words. Grinding his teeth, he immediately rejected him without hesitation:

“No!”

“Huh?” Lin Jin hadn’t expected such a firm refusal.

“You…”

What Lin Jin didn’t know was that Xiao Lanqi regretted those two words the moment they left his mouth.

Lowering his head, Xiao Lanqi picked at the raised embroidery on his clothes with his fingertips. But changing his mind immediately after refusing would be too embarrassing.

He pursed his lips, thought for a long while, and finally changed the subject instead, using a fierce tone to save face for himself:

“What do you mean you like green-eyed demons? Don’t tell me you know other demons too?”

“No.” Lin Jin chuckled softly. “But I do have a little dog with green eyes. Remember? I told you before that I wanted to visit Fanghua Peak to see my contracted beast. That little dog is him.”

Hearing that, Xiao Lanqi’s brows lifted slightly, and his mood finally improved by the tiniest bit.

He pursed his lips, his tone softening somewhat, though he still refused to let things go:

“You’re comparing me to a dog? So becoming friends with you means I’m benefiting from your dog’s good fortune?”

“No, I’m just saying they look alike. Why are you so hung up on it?”

Lin Jin truly couldn’t handle his awkward little temperament and laughed helplessly.

“But his eyes are the same color as yours. This beautiful green is like gemstones. He’s adorable, and I love him very much. Come to think of it, he’s been alone at Fanghua Peak for many days now. I wonder how he’s doing.”

“You love him?”

Xiao Lanqi caught the keyword immediately, his expression shifting slightly.

“Yeah.”

“Why would you love a dog?”

“What does love have to do with species? And technically speaking, he’s not a dog—he’s a mighty and majestic little Jade-Eyed Hound!”

Lin Jin said it jokingly, but then his expression turned more serious.

“Even if he’s just a little Jade-Eyed Hound, he’s family to me. Because he was the first friend I met after arriving in an unfamiliar place.”

“Oh?”

Xiao Lanqi secretly glanced at him and followed up on his words.

“Then where did you come from before this?”

“How should I put it… somewhere very, very far away.”

“How far? Don’t tell me there’s a place even I’ve never heard of.”

“There really is.”

Lin Jin let out a long sigh, suddenly feeling melancholy.

“So far away that even I don’t know how to get back. How could you possibly have heard of it?”

“…”

Xiao Lanqi folded his arms. After a moment, as though remembering something, he suddenly frowned and turned his face away.

“Liar!”

“Huh?”

Big Black Bro’s temper really came out of nowhere. Lin Jin was utterly defenseless against it.

“How did I lie to you now?”

“Didn’t you just say I could come find you at Misty Rain Mountain anytime? If one day you sneak back to that faraway place, wouldn’t our agreement become meaningless? Humans really are all liars.”

“…”

Lin Jin really couldn’t argue with that.

Although the chances of a transmigrator like him returning to his original world were slim, they weren’t zero. But there was no way he could explain all that to Xiao Lanqi. He couldn’t exactly tell this demon that he wasn’t the original owner of this body, that he was merely a wandering soul from another world.

“All I can promise is this: as long as I remain in this world, our agreement still stands. And if one day I really do leave, I’ll properly say goodbye to you. I won’t…”

Lin Jin roughly understood what Xiao Lanqi was worried about, so he softened his voice.

“I won’t disappear without saying a word.”

“Whatever.”

Xiao Lanqi snorted coldly.

“What does it matter to me whether you leave or not? It’s not like I’d care.”

“Alright.”

Seeing him like this, Lin Jin found it genuinely amusing.

He quietly scooted a little closer to Xiao Lanqi, tilting his head as he studied his expression.

“Then, since you don’t care, I guess I won’t say goodbye to you after all?”

“How dare you?!”

Xiao Lanqi whipped around angrily, only to meet Lin Jin’s smiling face. How could he not realize he’d been teased?

He was so irritated that he wanted to shove Lin Jin away. He raised his hand, but then remembered how fragile this human was. A casual push would probably send him tumbling over.

Xiao Lanqi instantly felt even more stifled. Push him or don’t push him—neither option felt right. In the end, he could only angrily withdraw his hand, stand up, grab his meditation cushion, move to the other side of the room, and sit facing the wall with his arms crossed in silent sulking.

Watching him like this, Lin Jin was suddenly reminded of a certain little puppy that liked to turn its tail toward him whenever it got upset.

He wondered how their mighty and majestic Lord Ball, the Jade-Eyed Hound, was doing.

Lin Jin decided not to tease Xiao Lanqi anymore. He yawned and glanced at Dengwen, resting neatly atop the sword platform.

Hopefully, everything would go smoothly.

—

The Patriarch of Penglai stood with his hands behind his back, observing the scene within the stone chamber with deep satisfaction.

It looked like the two little ones were getting along rather well. His painstaking efforts hadn’t been wasted after all!

What was that saying again? Live long enough and you’ll see everything. It really was true.

After living so many years, he had actually witnessed a Taowu-blooded demon willing to form a beast-contract with a human.

Whatever hidden circumstances existed between them aside, it was still a kind of fate. Even if that human child still didn’t know the identity of the person beside him, it was good that this opportunity allowed him to understand the other a little more.

After all, they would eventually become comrades fighting side by side. Building trust and strengthening their bond could never be a bad thing.

The Patriarch of Penglai had thoroughly enjoyed acting in front of those two children today and was immensely satisfied.

With a flick of his sleeve, the scene before him vanished. After arranging his expression, he formed a hand seal and reached toward another location.

Truth be told, this round of the Dengwen Trial had been quite interesting.

Not only had an intriguing pair of children entered, but the remaining disciple from his own sect was no ordinary person either.

This young woman possessed remarkable determination. She had swiftly passed the first trial, “Viewing the Past,” through sheer strength of will, and now she was nearly through the second trial as well—“Steadfast Resolve.”

The Patriarch of Penglai stepped into the white light opening in the void, and the scenery shifted. The next instant, he stood within an endless snowfield.

Snow fell in heavy goose-feather flurries. Howling winds cut like blades of ice. Everywhere he looked was endless white, broken only by a lone, slender figure standing amid the snowdrifts.

Jiang Zhenfeng wore only thin robes. Her hair and sleeves whipped wildly in the wind, and every breath she exhaled emerged in pale mist. Frost coated her lashes, brows, and loose strands of hair.

Her sword was planted in the ground. One hand gripped the hilt to support herself, while the other rested behind her back. She stood there silently, eyes closed, allowing the bitter wind to ravage her.

Seeing this, the Patriarch raised his brows slightly in surprise.

The first stage of the Dengwen Trial was called “Viewing the Past.” It tore open the deepest memories or obsessions the trial-taker least wished to revisit, forcing them to relive them in vivid detail. The purpose was to determine whether they could confront their past—or whether those memories would one day become heart demons that obstructed their path.

The second stage, “Steadfast Resolve,” manifested the deepest fear hidden within a person’s heart to see whether they possessed the courage to face it.

This stage was especially interesting. Over the years, the Patriarch had seen all kinds of fears: hunger, loneliness, demons, malice, and even specific people.

But never before had he seen fear take the form of such piercing white snow.

What exactly was this girl afraid of?

Snow? Wind? Cold? Loneliness? Or endless, suffocating whiteness?

The Patriarch quietly observed Jiang Zhenfeng. After a while, he noticed her open her eyes.

Standing within the snowfield, she resembled a pine tree enduring the depths of winter.

Slowly, she raised her gaze toward the equally gray-white clouds above.

How many years had it been since she had seen snow this heavy?

Jiang Zhenfeng no longer remembered.

But she knew one thing: even if this blizzard buried the entire world today, it still wouldn’t defeat her.

She had not lost to her past. And now, she would not lose to the cold.

Those things could only threaten Jiang Xianrou. Now, she was Jiang Zhenfeng.

Narrowing her eyes, she watched the falling snowflakes slow to an almost impossible crawl. She could practically see every crystalline detail within each flake.

The last time she watched snow like this—how many years ago had that been?

To Jiang Zhenfeng, snowflakes had always been fascinating things. From afar, they looked like an endless blanket of white, but only up close could one realize that no two were exactly alike.

When she was little, she spent a long time convincing herself that no two snowflakes in the world were identical. Yet afterward, a new confusion consumed her.

If even snowflakes were unique, then why, as a human being, did she have to live her life exactly according to other people’s arrangements? Every time she wanted to rebel or escape, they would tell her only one thing:

“Everyone lives this way.”

Why was she forbidden from doing things others had never done?

Why did she have to obediently follow the footsteps of those who came before her?

Why did people cling stubbornly to old ways while condemning those brave enough to change?

Jiang Zhenfeng never understood.

She grew up in a small city where snow fell year-round. Spring, summer, and autumn were fleeting; only the bitter winter endured.

Back then, her name had still been Jiang Xianrou. It was a name filled with her parents’ expectations. They hoped she would grow into a gentle, refined young lady who, upon reaching the proper age, would marry a suitable husband and spend her life as a dutiful wife and mother.

From childhood, Jiang Xianrou had been confined within the courtyard, studying texts like Lessons for Women, Women’s Precepts, and Admonitions for Women. Even during her free time, she wasn’t allowed outside. She could only sit in the back courtyard and watch the snow.

She was intelligent and beautiful. Long before she was old enough for marriage discussions, women with sons had already found endless excuses to visit her home. One after another, they would smile warmly, hold her hands affectionately, and make all sorts of casual remarks.

“What a lovely face. My son would definitely like her.”

“Yes, though she’s a bit too thin. Madam Jiang, girls who are too skinny won’t bear children well. You have to start paying attention early—you can’t afford mistakes in that area.”

“The more I look at her, the more I adore her. I wish I could take her home as my daughter-in-law right now.”

“Oh, listen to you dreaming. Our family has already prepared an excellent dowry. You might not even be able to compete with me.”

The ladies sat in the courtyard drinking tea while Jiang Xianrou stood behind them, listening to their laughter with growing boredom.

She didn’t feel like a person.

She felt more like a product already assigned a price and purpose.

Jiang Xianrou no longer wanted to remain in the courtyard. Looking at the high walls surrounding the estate and the crooked old tree beside them, she suddenly found herself wondering what lay beyond.

All year round, she had precious few chances to leave home. The towering walls trapped her within that tiny courtyard, and every day she could see only that small patch of sky above.

But today, she suddenly wanted to climb up and take a look outside.

So she tied up her sleeves, lifted her skirts, stepped onto the stones, and instinctively taught herself how to climb a tree.

After much effort, she reached the branches and carefully inched toward the wall before peeking over it.

That single glance left her stunned.

Outside the wall stood a woman in sky-blue Daoist robes. A sword rested across her back and a whisk hung from her arm. Her features were refined, her demeanor calm, and her appearance simple yet elegant—completely unlike any woman Jiang Xianrou had ever seen before.

As the woman passed by the Jiang family courtyard, she seemed to sense Jiang Xianrou peering over the wall and looked up.

Their eyes met.

After a brief silence, the woman gazed at the girl perched atop the wall and let out a soft laugh.

“Not bad,” she praised. “You’ve got skill.”