Why is This Clingy Snow Leopard Acting So Innocent? - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Injury — Is That What You Think?

Six months of silence were broken, and within three minutes of his post going live, Su Wen’s name rocketed to the top of the trending charts.

Trending #1: #SuWen #NotRetiring Trending #2: #SuWen #Retire

He shut off the screen and tossed his phone aside. “Hiss—” A sharp pain flared in his fingertip.

“Does it hurt?” Yun Shu looked up at him. “Should I be gentler?”

Su Wen hesitated, but finally couldn’t help complaining, “Is it really necessary for such a tiny scratch?”

“The wound might open up.”

Su Wen was speechless. “If you let it air out for another minute, it’ll be closed.”

“Is that how you usually treat the others?”

“Hm?”

“You have a lot of scars on your hands.”

On a chair in the corner, an electric rice cooker was bubbling, letting out a faint, savory aroma of meat.

Su Wen pulled his hand back and changed the subject. “What’s cooking in there?”

“Ah, that,” Yun Shu stood up. “Clear-stewed beef. It won’t be ready until tomorrow.”

Su Wen’s voice carried a hint of disappointment he didn’t even notice. “Tomorrow, huh.”

Yun Shu raised an eyebrow and, like a magician, produced a plate of braised beef from seemingly nowhere. “Eat this for now.”

Su Wen’s eyes lit up. Honestly, because they had been so busy lately, they had been eating at the patrol station. He wasn’t used to it. Aside from mutton, it was mostly local crops—various buns and coarse grains.

He was a Southerner; he loved rice, hated the gaminess of mutton, and craved seafood. Seafood was unrealistic in the snow mountains, but beef was a good compromise. However, the locals mainly had yak, and yak was expensive. He ate whatever he could get, but as Zhang Xiaoqian had said, he was in a “special situation” and couldn’t afford to seem too high-maintenance.

He took the chopsticks from Yun Shu. When the large slices of beef filled his mouth, he felt like he had truly suffered over the past few days. The food at the patrol station really didn’t compare to Yun Shu’s cooking.

He let out a satisfied sigh, stuffed another slice in, and chewed. It was firm but not dry, a perfect blend of meat and braise. Yun Shu was a seriously good cook.

Su Wen finally spared some attention for the man himself. “Did you study this specifically?”

“Study what?”

Su Wen swallowed before continuing, “Cooking.”

Yun Shu propped his head up on the edge of the heated table, tilting his head. There was an inexplicable tenderness in his grey-green eyes. “Is it good?”

“Mhm.”

Being stared at like that made Su Wen’s skin crawl slightly; even the meat started to lose its flavor. He looked up to meet the gaze. “Your eyes are very unique.”

“Are they not good-looking?” Yun Shu blinked.

Pale grey with a hint of green, as clear as gemstones. “They’re beautiful.”

Su Wen looked away and then immediately glanced back. He felt like he had seen this color somewhere else. He cycled through memories—humans, dogs, cats… ah, cats.

The eyes of his snow leopard were the exact same color.

The leopard? Snow leopard!

He turned to Yun Shu, his voice urgent. “What time is it?”

Yun Shu pointed to the clock on the wall. “Ten o’clock.”

“Ten?!”

It usually came around eight or nine. It was already ten!

Su Wen hurriedly put down his chopsticks and walked away, saying, “Rest up, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Yun Shu called out from behind him, “Will you regret it tomorrow?”

Su Wen paused and turned. “Regret what?”

Yun Shu smiled. “Taking the photos.”

“I won’t.”

…

Su Wen always felt his snow leopard was smart, and tonight proved it. As soon as he lifted the curtain, he saw a pair of glowing eyes approaching from a few meters away. With a soft “ow-woo,” it leaped onto the windowsill.

Its massive body perched there, squeezing through the partially opened glass window. Su Wen stepped back to give it space, but it didn’t jump down. It just sat there.

Just as he was wondering if the space was too small, a gust of wind blew in from nowhere. He looked up. “Again?!”

The snow leopard spread its legs, its tail swishing, and pounced toward him in a giant “X” shape. Before he could dodge, he was flat on the bed.

Is this even reasonable? I’m being treated like prey…

Su Wen gave it another slap. “No cats on the bed!”

But the leopard’s skin had clearly thickened—if a leopard even has skin. At first, a slap would make it act pitiful and beg for comfort with those round eyes, melting his heart. Now was different. Su Wen looked at the leopard standing on the other side of the bed, his head throbbing. It had been outside for so long, rubbing against who-knows-what, and now it dared to bring all that dirt onto his bed!

He scrambled to the edge of the bed to try and haul it off. As soon as he got close, the leopard leaped to the other side. He ran to the other side; it leaped back. Silver-grey fur showered the sheets with every jump.

Su Wen ground his teeth in frustration. But the leopard was far more agile than him; he couldn’t catch it. Fearing the people outside would hear the commotion, he had to keep his voice down.

Even though tomorrow was a day off, he was exhausted from the day’s work. His eyelids were heavy.

Dammit! Fine, whatever. Sleep was more important.

Su Wen gave up. He tossed his pillow to the side of the bed and, ignoring the oblivious “stinky leopard” standing there, he collapsed. His slight germaphobia was completely defeated by his need for sleep.

In his daze, he felt a blanket being pulled over him and something warm and soft nuzzling his cheek. Just as it paused near his lips, Su Wen—in his half-dreaming state—only felt a tickle. He tried to grab at it, but his hands found nothing.

A long time later, a faint “click” sounded in his ear.

…

Su Wen opened his eyes. His head was still foggy, but his hand was already searching for the phone hidden in the corner.

10:00 AM.

A flood of messages poured in—social media notifications, fan messages, and comments. Overnight, various marketing accounts had combined his short post with clips of his past works into viral videos. Some had even figured out he was filming in Xiping.

The mockers, the ones waiting for a failure… Some speculated he was using this film to stage a comeback and slap his former manager’s face, given how pointed his post was.

Retire? Impossible.

On his chat app, everyone—from those he talked to regularly to those he hadn’t spoken to in years—had messaged him. Including his former manager.

— Don’t misunderstand.

He ignored it and tossed the phone aside. The snow leopard was gone. Rustling sounds came from outside the door, along with the rich aroma of meat.

He dressed, washed up, and opened the door. Yun Shu had already laid out lunch.

“Not going to sleep more?”

“No need.”

With nothing to do today, Su Wen slowly ate a piece of beef. It was perfectly marbled, tender, and savory. The benefits of not having a handler around were showing. In previous film crews, his diet was limited to coarse grains, vegetables, or unseasoned boiled beef and chicken.

Before he even swallowed, he remembered something and picked up his phone to reply to Su Jian.

— I sent the new manager’s resume to your email. See which one you want. — I don’t want one.

Beside him, Yun Shu took an empty bowl from the cabinet, rinsed it with hot water, and served him some soup. He sprinkled some scallions on top and handed it over.

As the warm soup hit his stomach, Su Wen sighed. A pity he had to go back to the patrol station food tomorrow. Once full, he turned his attention to Yun Shu. “Thanks for the hard work.” He stood up. “I’ll do the dishes.”

Before Yun Shu could speak, Su Wen walked off with the empty bowls. Before he reached the sink, he turned back. “Do you have a dishwasher?”

Yun Shu paused while clearing the table and raised an eyebrow. “I have a humanoid dishwasher.”

Su Wen blinked, then shrugged. “Fine, humanoid it is.”

He stood by the sink, about to ask which detergent to use, when he turned and nearly bumped face-to-face into Yun Shu. Before he could react, a hand reached out and took the bowls.

“Uh,” he was dazed. “I’ll wash them.”

“The wound can’t touch water.”

Su Wen: “…”

The purple disinfectant from last night was still on his thumb. The wound—barely the size of a sesame seed—was already healed, but he wasn’t about to argue with someone volunteering to do chores.

He leaned against the sink with his arms crossed, watching Yun Shu wash the dishes one by one. He suddenly felt that Yun Shu wasn’t actually worried about his “injury,” but rather just found him in the way.

“Are you going out this afternoon?”

Yun Shu looked up, his hands still moving. “Is there somewhere you want to go?”

As the words fell, a cold wind howled over the snow mountain outside. Su Wen leaned forward and lifted the thick curtain. It was snowing—large flakes drifting in the wind, tapping against the glass.

If he were a ranger, he’d have to go out in this. But he was on break.

“No.”

“Then stay home. Didn’t we say I’d take photos of you yesterday?”

“Oh,” Su Wen dropped the curtain and crossed his arms again, watching Yun Shu put the clean bowls into the cabinet. “Did Cheng Daozhi tell you to take them?”

Clatter—

The white porcelain bowl Yun Shu was about to put away hit the floor and shattered.

“Wait,” Su Wen stopped him from picking up the shards. “Don’t touch it. I’ll get the broom.”

The broom was by the door. Su Wen reached out and grabbed it without even feeling the cold. When he returned, Yun Shu was kneeling on the floor, turning back with blood-covered hands and a floor full of bloody shards.

Seeing the blood, Su Wen felt a rare flare of anger. “Didn’t I tell you not to pick them up?”

Yun Shu blinked those pale grey-green eyes, looking completely innocent. Su Wen’s anger evaporated. He sighed and put down the broom. “Bandage first.”

“This might sting,” Su Wen said, sitting across from him with a bottle of disinfectant he’d brought from Linzhou. He looked down at the cuts on Yun Shu’s palm and fingers. “Can you take it?”

“I can.”

As the alcohol and iodine went on, Yun Shu didn’t make a sound. He sat there looking like he felt nothing. Su Wen looked up curiously and met his direct gaze. “What is it?”

Yun Shu shook his head. “Nothing.”

Su Wen went back to wrapping the bandage. His hands were busy, and so was his mouth. “Every time you look at me, I think you have something to say. Do you look at everyone like that?”

“Is that what you think?”

Before he could answer, a loud banging sounded on the iron gate outside. It was likely the patrol station or the film crew. Su Wen stopped Yun Shu from getting up and took the task himself. There was no reason to send an injured person out.

The cold wind was still howling. Even with a heavy coat, the sub-zero temperature made him shiver. The banging stopped the moment he got close. Su Wen opened the door.

Standing there was an unfamiliar middle-aged woman—dark-skinned, short, and looking at him with wide-eyed shock. Then, in broken Mandarin with a heavy local accent, she spoke:

“It’s you?”