The growl grew louder, and from the shadows emerged a monstrous wolf. Its body was grotesquely oversized, its fur matted with streaks of dark crimson, as though it had been feeding on something recently. Saliva dripped from its snarling maw, sizzling as it hit the ground, and its orange eyes burned with unnatural intensity, filled with rage and malice. The creature's claws, long and sharp as daggers, glinted under the faint light filtering through the canopy.
I froze for a moment, instinctively stepping in front of Lan Feng. This wasn't an ordinary wolf—it was the result of someone's twisted experiments.
This was no coincidence.
If this wolf was here, it wasn't a random encounter. The Breeder must have sent it to track Ruan Yanjun. Same with those two beasts that we had encountered along the road over a week ago.
I tightened my grip on my bamboo stick and glanced at Lan Feng, who stood frozen behind me, his wide eyes glued to the beast. "Step back," I commanded firmly.
But instead of moving, he shook his head. "Gege, be careful," he whispered, his voice trembling with worry.
The wolf let out a deafening snarl and lunged, its massive body moving with a speed that belied its size. I sidestepped just in time, feeling the rush of wind as its claws slashed through the air where I had been moments before.
The wolf turned sharply, its glowing eyes locked onto me. It charged once more, fangs bared, jaws gaping. I jumped, flipping over it with a burst of spiritual energy, and slammed my bamboo stick down on its spine. The crack of impact echoed through the grove.
It howled—an awful, broken sound—and whipped around, slashing at me with claws that gleamed like polished obsidian.
I landed lightly, my breath tight in my chest. It was strong, fast, and frenzied—like it didn't fully understand its own power. I had the edge in precision, in calm, but I couldn't afford a single mistake. One misstep, one blink too slow, and I'd be in pieces like the bodies we'd passed before.
The wolf lunged again, its maw wide open, but I dodged and struck its side with all my strength. The bamboo stick cracked against its ribs, eliciting another howl. It staggered, momentarily stunned, but the fury in its glowing eyes only burned brighter.
Just as I prepared for its next attack, the wolf suddenly shifted its focus. My stomach dropped as I realized too late what it was doing. It turned and bolted straight toward Lan Feng.
"Feng'er, move!" I shouted, panic surging through me.
Lan Feng barely had time to react. The wolf's massive body collided with him, knocking him to the ground. He let out a sharp cry as he fell, the beast's claws raking across his chest.
"NO!" I roared, my vision narrowing.
I surged forward with everything I had. My bamboo staff struck the beast's skull with a crack that echoed like thunder. It flew sideways, tumbling across the clearing. Blood sprayed from its maw as it rose again, but I was already upon it.
I didn't give it another chance.
I drove the tip of my staff into its throat, silencing its growl mid-snarl. The wolf gurgled, claws raking helplessly at the dirt. I didn't stop. Another strike—then another—until the beast crumpled with a final convulsion, twitching once before it went still.
Panting, I turned—my heartbeat a roar in my ears.
Lan Feng lay on the ground, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling unevenly.
I dropped to my knees beside him, my heart in my throat, hands trembling as I loosened the sash of his robe to inspect his injuries. My fingers skimmed over his chest, searching desperately for wounds.
Relief swept through me like a wave when I found only a shallow gash across his skin—angry and red, but not deep. The beast's claws had torn his robe and grazed his flesh, but missed anything vital.
"It's alright, Feng'er," I murmured, patting his cheek gently. "It's just a scratch. You'll be fine."
His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then clouded with pain. "Gege…" he breathed, voice hoarse. "My back… it hurts."
I leaned over him, wrapping one arm around his waist, the other behind his shoulders, and carefully helped him into a seated position. He winced, and I could feel the tension in his body—the pain likely coming from the impact of being slammed into the ground.
"You'll be alright," I reassured him quietly. "But we can't stay here. It's not safe."
I shifted his weight, turning around so I could hoist him onto my back. He barely resisted, draping his arms weakly around my shoulders. "Hold on tight," I said, adjusting my grip beneath his legs.
"Yes, Gege," he murmured softly. I felt the faint squeeze of his fingers as he tightened his hold.
Mo Li's scream echoed again in my mind—sharp, piercing, and unnerving. If anyone had heard it, others might already be en route. I couldn't afford another confrontation, not with Lan Feng injured and vulnerable.
I ran, my feet pounding against the forest floor as I carried him. The dense trees blurred around me as I focused on putting as much distance as possible between us and the grove. Even with Lan Feng's weight on my back, I didn't stop. I couldn't. Not until I was sure we were safe.
Only after descending a steep hill and reaching a small clearing—quiet, with no signs of pursuit—did I allow myself to slow to a walk. My breath came in ragged bursts, but I didn't let Lan Feng down.
His head shifted on my shoulder, then, to my surprise, I felt a soft pressure against my cheek—a fleeting brush, warm and unmistakably intentional.
My body tensed instinctively. For a brief, terrifying moment, I thought that Ruan Yanjun must have returned. Only he would dare kiss me like that.
"What are you doing?" I asked sharply, my muscles tightening in preparation. My guard was suddenly up, bracing for the devil to resurface.
"Thanking my gege for saving my life," Lan Feng replied softly, his voice carrying none of the malice or mockery I feared. His tone was light, sincere, and completely devoid of the condescending edge that I had grown to associate with Ruan Yanjun.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief. It was still Lan Feng. The affectionate gesture wasn't meant to unsettle me, only to express his gratitude in the only way this childlike version of him knew how.
I glanced at him, forcing a faint smile to ease the tension still curling in my chest. "Of course I'll save you. You saved me too, remember? Back when we faced the Shuiyan."
Lan Feng nodded, his lips curling into a warm smile as he rested his chin on my shoulder. "Gege, that woman earlier… she mentioned someone named Ruan Yanjun. Who is he?"
I froze inwardly. Dangerous territory. His mind was sharpening—recovering—and already, he was starting to ask questions I wasn't ready to answer. Questions I had hoped would take longer to surface.
I kept my expression neutral, my gaze fixed ahead. "He's… the most powerful cultivator in the entire continent. Some say even the strongest in the world."
His eyes lit up in wonder. "Really? What level is he?"
"Nine."
Another gasp escaped his lips, his wonder palpable. "Then why did that woman look at me like that? Why did she think I'm him?"
I chuckled softly, dodging the question. "Maybe you have an air of greatness about you. She must have mistaken you for someone more powerful."
"Do I look like a level nine?" he asked, his face lighting up with curiosity.
I smirked, amused by his innocent question, but didn't respond directly.
Lan Feng, satisfied with my silence, let out a long sigh, clearly enjoying his position on my back. When I glanced at him again, he was grinning, his expression serene.
"Gege," he said dreamily, "your martial arts is amazing. I like watching you fight."
"It's not much," I said modestly. "One day, you'll surpass me by far."
"You think so, Gege?"
"I'm sure of it. When that day comes, you'll mock me for my mediocre skills."
He shook his head vehemently. "I won't! I'd never say anything mean to Gege."
I smiled faintly, though his words stung in an odd way. "I hope you mean that," I said softly.
"I promise," he said with quiet conviction. "I'll always be good to Gege."
I bit back a sigh, my heart heavy with the knowledge he didn't yet possess. I hope you'll remember that when you're back to being Ruan Yanjun, I thought grimly.
"Feng'er," I said, trying to shift the mood, "how about walking for a while? You're not exactly light, you know."
Immediately, Lan Feng let out an exaggerated groan and slumped against me, his warm breath tickling my ear. "Feng'er is still weak, Gege," he moaned, feigning helplessness. "Please put up with me a little longer."
I rolled my eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. His theatrics were all too familiar. My mind flicked back to a memory of Ruan Yanjun pulling a similar stunt during a journey we had taken together. That time, he had feigned exhaustion while riding a horse just to cling to me, his arms encircling my waist, his head resting on my shoulder.
It hit me, then, just how similar they were. Though Lan Feng was sweet and endearing, there were moments when glimpses of Ruan Yanjun's personality seeped through—the charm, the cunning. They were one and the same, no matter how much I wished otherwise.
Still, I couldn't help but humor him. "Fine," I said with mock exasperation. "But don't expect me to carry you all the way."
"Thank you, Gege," he murmured sweetly, nuzzling into my shoulder like an oversized child.