Why is This Clingy Snow Leopard Acting So Innocent? - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Sentimentalism—Just Stop Liking Him Back

He was startled awake by the sound of steady breathing, so close it was right by his ear.

There was someone in the room.

Right beside him.

As this realization dawned on him, he jumped, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. To avoid waking the person next to him, Su Wen reached out and groped around until he felt his phone by the pillow; in a pinch, it could serve as a brick.

He took a deep breath, gripped the phone tight, spun around, and raised his right arm high.

In the next second, his arm froze mid-air.

By the faint light of the phone screen, he saw clearly: it wasn’t a person, it was the snow leopard.

He had no idea when this fellow had slipped in. Moreover, it hadn’t left before dawn as it usually did. It was treating this room like its own home now.

Fortunately, he had been granted a rest day today. If they had been discovered first thing in the morning, it would have been a disaster—he’d likely trend on social media for three days straight before being charged with “poaching.”

Su Wen breathed a sigh of relief, turned his phone over, and checked the time: 4:07 AM.

He’d woken up too early.

He flopped back onto the bed, turned on his side, and pressed his head against the leopard’s, nuzzling its furry crown. At this moment, he didn’t care that the creature ran wild outside all day getting dirty, nor did he mind the shedding. Humans, it seemed, were destined to constantly compromise for feline creatures, whether they were big cats or small ones.

The snow leopard, deep in sleep, instinctively snuggled closer when he approached, burying its face in the crook of his neck, its breathing remaining rhythmic and even.

Once awake, Su Wen found it impossible to fall back asleep. Feeling bored, he reached back to flick on the light and lay back down, idly playing with the leopard’s ears—soft and warm, like a plush toy.

The paws were soft too. There was a thin layer of callus on the black paw pads; he pressed down with a finger, and it boomed back after a couple of seconds.

Its double coat was incredibly thick, providing a strange sense of satisfaction when touched. Su Wen buried his face in its belly—it was soft as down, and he could faintly hear a rumbling purr.

A snow leopard’s body temperature is slightly higher than a human’s. As he buried his head, a gentle warmth washed over his face.

A few seconds later, the snow leopard shifted, accompanied by a loud purr-hiss sound.

Su Wen, still pressed against its belly, tilted his head and burst out laughing at the sight.

The snow leopard was sprawled on its back. Its two front paws were bent and dangling in front of its chest as it struggled to lift its head to look at him. Its small ears were flattened, and its round eyes were still hazy with sleep.

It looked like it hadn’t quite processed the situation. When their eyes met, it opened its mouth wide and let out a massive yawn, its long white whiskers twitching up and down.

In a momentary lapse of reason—perhaps a wire crossed in his brain—Su Wen reached out and stuck his finger right into its mouth.

The leopard instantly turned into a “dummy.” It instinctively licked his finger with its tongue, then gently mouthed it, staring at him with watery eyes that were still damp from the yawn.

Looking at it like this, Su Wen’s heart completely melted. It was point-blank adorable.

He sat up abruptly, grabbed its large head, and gave it a thorough “smother-nuzzle,” wishing he could just absorb the creature into his soul.

Why had he never thought of getting a cat before?

Wait, his sister’s big fat cat wasn’t nearly as cute as this one.

He buried his face in its belly again. Not all cats could compare to his snow leopard.

Actually, no cat could compare to his snow leopard.

Whether it was the adrenaline of the moment or the lingering effects of yesterday’s altitude sickness, his mind was now filled with thoughts of how to bring it back to Linzhou.

By plane? Straight to jail.

By train? Straight to jail.

Driving himself? After the car crash, straight to jail.

Driving? A spark of inspiration hit him. Yun Shu was such a good driver…

But Yun Shu was a ranger. If he knew Su Wen wanted to smuggle a snow leopard… Turn left out the door, straight to jail.

Every road led to jail.

Contemplating his inevitable incarceration, he fell back asleep with his head pillowed on the snow leopard’s belly, one hand still absentmindedly squeezing its ear until his consciousness drifted away.

…

When he woke up again, it was 11:00 AM. As usual, the snow leopard had vanished, leaving behind only a few silver-gray hairs.

The impulsive dream of taking it with him had vanished too. Looking at it realistically, the leopard wouldn’t want to go. It made sense; if he were the king of the snowy mountains, he wouldn’t want to be cooped up in a concrete jungle as a human’s plaything.

Thinking this, Su Wen felt a sense of relief that he hadn’t given it a name. The bond between humans and animals deepens infinitely once there is a “name,” but he wasn’t coming back here again.

Rustling sounds came from outside, followed by the aroma of food drifting through the door cracks.

He remembered—he was on a sanctioned rest day, and Yun Shu, as the partner tasked with looking after him, was off as well. Another good meal was coming.

After washing up and heading out, he found Yun Shu standing by the door amidst a swirl of cold wind, the curtain still raised.

The cold air rushed in, making Su Wen, who was only wearing a sweater, shiver. He reached for his padded jacket on the sofa but changed his mind and put it back.

“You’re awake?”

“Yeah.” Su Wen looked up as Yun Shu turned to enter. They both sat at the table. “Are you off for the whole day?”

“I can rest for a couple more days if needed.”

“No need.”

As they sat, Su Wen asked, “Did it snow again?”

“Just stopped.”

On the warming table were freshly cooked dishes, several small stir-fries steaming hot.

Like before, Su Wen felt a strange sense of familiarity with Yun Shu’s cooking. Today, that feeling intensified, especially after having eaten at the main patrol station earlier.

After swallowing the last piece of braised brisket, Su Wen asked, “Did you live in Linzhou before?”

Yun Shu was stunned for a moment. The words he was about to say took a turn: “How did you know?”

“The food tastes like it’s from there.” Su Wen felt a sudden urge to chat more, so he prodded further. “Will you ever go back?”

Yun Shu stacked the empty bowls together. “Did I not tell you before?”

“Tell me what?”

The empty bowls clattered into the sink. Yun Shu leaned against the edge of the sink and looked back at him. “I went to university in Linzhou.”

“Linzhou University, Faculty of Biological Sciences. First year of my Master’s.”

“Oh?” Su Wen was surprised. “A graduate student?”

“Yes.”

“You’re quite impressive.”

Su Wen looked up, their gazes meeting. He added, “I mean it.”

Yun Shu let out a soft laugh and asked, “Don’t you want to ask more?”

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“That depends on what you want to know.”

Su Wen didn’t really have anything specific in mind, so he asked casually, “The altitude difference is so huge; do you feel unwell?”

Xiping was over 2,160 kilometers from Linzhou. Moreover, Linzhou’s average altitude was only about 4 meters—a completely different world from Xiping’s 3,000+ meters. Just as outsiders got altitude sickness in Xiping, people from Xiping often suffered from “oxygen poisoning” or discomfort when returning to low-altitude areas.

Yun Shu continued washing the dishes. “You get used to it.”

“Oh,” Su Wen replied dismissively. “That’s good.”

His dismissiveness was so obvious that when he caught Yun Shu’s gaze, he instinctively turned his head to hide the awkwardness.

But Yun Shu didn’t seem to mind. After tidying up, he handed Su Wen the thick coat from the sofa.

Su Wen took it, looking confused. “Are we going to the station now?”

“It snowed outside. Don’t you want to see?”

…

When they said “see,” they literally meant just looking.

The two of them lifted the curtain and sat on the doorstep. Su Wen didn’t understand why they had to sit right there.

Yun Shu’s reasoning was that the heater was right behind them, so it wouldn’t be too cold.

But it was cramped. Two 1.8-meter-tall men sitting there made it even tighter; they were practically glued together.

“Isn’t it uncomfortable sitting like this?”

Yun Shu leaned back slightly, propping his upper body up with one hand on the ground. He was a bit wobbly but remained stubborn: “It’s fine.”

“Sigh,” Su Wen scooted over a bit. “Just sit up straight. Two guys sitting together don’t need to worry about ‘avoiding suspicion’ like that.”

“The person I like is a man,” Yun Shu said. “Still no need?”

Su Wen found this a bit random. He turned to look at him, baffled. “Does that have anything to do with you sitting here?”

Hearing this, Yun Shu shifted forward. Their shoulders touched. While not exactly comfortable, it was strangely pleasant.

Fine snow fell with the wind, making a soft crackle as it hit the existing snowbank. The plastic shed in the yard bowed under the weight until it could no longer hold, dumping the fresh snow along with the accumulation from three days ago onto the ground.

Su Wen pulled his scarf up higher.

He felt a lingering gaze on his face. He turned back. “Do you have something to say?”

Yun Shu looked away instantly. He started to say “no,” but after a moment of thought, he changed it to “yes.”

“Hmm?” Su Wen tilted his head, signaling him to continue.

“Do you know why I went to Linzhou University?”

“Because you liked it, I assume.”

“No.”

“Oh?” Su Wen turned, curious now. “Then why?”

“The person I love is in Linzhou.”

Su Wen immediately thought of those cliché romance movie tropes. Eight out of ten scripts he’d received in recent years involved “striving for love” or “moving to the lover’s city.” He felt he could guess the ending already:

“Why didn’t you stay there to be with them?”

Yun Shu’s gaze lingered on Su Wen for two seconds before he looked away. He didn’t speak, just lowered his head, staring at something unknown.

After a long silence, just as Su Wen thought he was going to skip the question, Yun Shu spoke:

“Maybe because he doesn’t like me anymore.”

Su Wen: “……”

He found it hard to respond to this—or rather, he didn’t really care. He found it difficult to understand why someone would pine over someone who no longer loved them, seemingly in great pain because of it. Certain romance films loved this kind of “sentimental-to-a-fault” teen angst literature.

“It doesn’t matter,” Su Wen said. “Just stop liking him back.”