Why is This Clingy Snow Leopard Acting So Innocent? - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Sleep—Held in His Arms

The wind and snow gradually subsided. The seven-seater MPV stood outside the courtyard gate, its tires fitted with anti-skid iron chains.

As they were about to leave, Yun Shu pulled out his keys to lock the door, but Su Wen reached out to stop him.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

Without saying a word, Su Wen pushed open the door, lifted the curtain, and rushed inside. Two seconds later, he dashed back out.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Yun Shu was puzzled. “Did you forget something?”

Su Wen shook his head. “No.”

Counting the hiking distance on the mountain, the observation point was nearly twenty kilometers from the patrol station. A round trip took at least four or five hours, which would likely interfere with the observation schedule.

Given this, Song Nan, the team leader, had located the nearest Mountain God Temple at the foot of the mountain.

It was a very small temple, far from the luxurious renovations seen in tourist areas. In most places, it would be considered an “abandoned” temple. However, there were still priests living and practicing there.

Seeing Su Wen’s surprised expression, Yun Shu explained, “Every mountain here with a name has a small temple like this. If you look at it through the lens of legend, it’s the place closest to the ‘Mountain God,’ a place for priests to practice.”

“Exactly,” Song Nan chimed in. “Plus, for people like us who can’t camp outside in deep winter, or herders who get lost and can’t make it home, this place offers shelter.”

The wind knocked on the temple doors before they did.

A moment later, with a creak, the door opened.

Inside stood a young man with short hair and a slender build. His dark eyes were as still as a deep pool. He wore a robe slightly different from the local ethnic dress, woven with complex patterns. He possessed a strange sense of holiness, yet his aura was incredibly calm and approachable.

His gaze swept over the group. After a brief nod to Yun Shu, his eyes rested on Su Wen for a moment before turning to Song Nan. After hearing Song Nan’s explanation, he led them into the temple.

The deity enshrined in the main hall glowed brilliantly amidst the dilapidated surroundings. This was Cuo Songlan, the Mountain God of Songcuo Mountain—the legendary guardian of the snow peak and all its living creatures. He was the focus of the Weisang (incense-burning) ceremony in Sare Village a month from now.

“What do people pray for here?”

The priest replied, “You may pray for favorable weather, for protection, for wealth, for career, or for your heart’s desires. But it is forbidden to pray out of greed or anger, and forbidden to ask transgressive questions.”

Yun Shu looked at Su Wen, who was staring up at the Mountain God, and asked, “Is there anything you want to pray for?”

“What I want?” After thinking for a few seconds, Su Wen replied, “To have my heart’s desires fulfilled.”

He turned back to see Yun Shu with his head bowed and hands pressed together in prayer, looking remarkably devout.

When Yun Shu reopened his eyes, Su Wen asked curiously, “What were you just praying for?”

Yun Shu smiled slightly. “The same as you.” (To have your heart’s desires fulfilled.)

…

There were two practicing priests in the temple, leaving only two small guest rooms, each with a single tiny earthen bed (kang).

To maintain gender separation, Dr. Lin and the female photographer took one room. The remaining two male photographers and the three other men had to choose between the other room or the tents set up in the main hall.

Song Nan didn’t want to squeeze onto a tiny bed with two large men, nor did he want to cram into a small tent outside. He was more resourceful than he looked; he simply laid out a mat near the heater and crawled into his sleeping bag.

The remaining choice fell to Su Wen. He didn’t hesitate and climbed into the tent; he really couldn’t bring himself to sleep on that bed.

Then, Yun Shu climbed in too.

Su Wen was stunned for a moment. “You’re with me?”

“Mm.” Yun Shu, who was half-kneeling to set things up, looked up at him. He tilted his head and blinked his misty eyes. “Is that not allowed?”

Su Wen’s heart skipped a beat. He took a moment to regain his composure before replying, “Suit yourself.”

The temple had no electricity, relying on old oil lamps and firewood. The electric lamps and power banks they brought would last about six or seven days—just enough until they headed back.

The two priests helped them fuel the earthen bed and the charcoal in the heater, which seemed enough to last the night. The temperature in the room was higher than outside, but it still wasn’t exactly “warm”; they had to sleep in thick clothes.

The crumbling temple hadn’t been well-maintained. The wooden door had several gaps; Yun Shu stuffed them with old rags, but a biting draft still whistled through.

Su Wen hid inside his sleeping bag. It was a standard patrol station issue—not a big brand, but warm enough. However, “warm enough” was a relative term when it was -15°C outside.

The howling north wind rattled the wooden door, and combined with the snoring of the three men in the room, sleep was restless. This was his first time sleeping in the heart of the snow mountains. He could faintly hear the distant howls of wolves and the roars of Tibetan blue bears. Though muffled, it instilled a genuine sense of fear in him.

He felt a bit homesick—specifically for Yun Shu’s home, which was a first for him. He missed sleeping in that bed yesterday, and he missed holding the snow leopard. It was warm, soft, and furry.

When I get back this time, I won’t make it sleep on the floor anymore, he thought. The bed is better. Definitely better. I’ll sleep on the bed with it.

Su Wen curled into a ball, hugging himself in the corner. He still wasn’t used to sharing a space with someone else. But if it was a special circumstance and someone had to sleep with him, he’d still choose Yun Shu.

The sound of steady breathing nearby miraculously chased away his initial fear. Su Wen rolled over and closed his eyes. Perhaps because he had been climbing all day and was exhausted, he actually managed to fall into a deep sleep.

The chill that had permeated his body vanished as he drifted off.

He had a dream. He dreamt the snow leopard had come. It stood at the courtyard gate, watching him with those watery, round eyes. It looked tired and a bit agitated, as if it had found him missing at home and had searched for a long time to find him here. Its face was full of grievance, clearly heartbroken at not seeing him.

In the dream, Su Wen opened the window for it, but the leopard didn’t stay in the room. Instead, it shook the accumulated snow off its coat, slinging the cold away, and charged through the old wooden door.

It jumped onto him, pinning him down and nuzzling him everywhere.

The leopard’s body temperature was a degree or two higher than a human’s. The whole cat felt like a giant, furry heating pad. Su Wen didn’t care about the broken door anymore—he had a “warm baby” now. He didn’t care how it found him; since it was here, holding it while sleeping was all that mattered.

He pulled the leopard into his arms, clinging to it, wrapping his legs around its middle and his arms tight around its neck as if afraid it would run away. The snow leopard stayed obediently in his embrace, without any intention of struggling.

It was blissful, so real it didn’t feel like a dream. Even the rustling sounds nearby felt like they were happening in real life. I’m going crazy, he thought. I’m hallucinating.

Then, he heard someone calling him.

“Su Wen?”

“Su Wen?”

“Yun Shu, are you guys awake?”

Su Wen snapped his eyes open. His mind wasn’t clear yet, but he felt a toasty warmth all over—not at all like sleeping in a cold tent.

He looked down, and his eyes widened.

Yun Shu lifted his head. His hair brushed against Su Wen’s chin, tickling him.

Su Wen froze.

Yun Shu curled his lips into a smile. “Awake?”

All the surprise, embarrassment, and confusion melted into a stuttering mess: “How did you… I… f— no, wait…”

Finally, he managed one sentence: “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“It’s okay,” Yun Shu shrugged dismissively. “It used to happen all the time anyway. I’m used to it.”

“Huh?” Su Wen didn’t understand. He looked at him while rubbing his forehead. “What happened all the time…?”

“Being held while sleeping.”

“By who?”

Seeing Su Wen’s suspicious gaze, Yun Shu changed his answer at the last second: “The person I love.”

Su Wen massaged his temples. “……”

…

“What happened just now?”

“Hmm?” Su Wen looked at Song Nan, who was sitting by the warming table. He took the instant coffee Song Nan handed him and replied, “Oh, nothing. Just woke up and wasn’t thinking straight.”

After saying this, he stole a glance at Yun Shu, who was focused on his meal. Yun Shu seemed perfectly normal, as if he’d slept well and hadn’t been bothered by Su Wen’s poor sleeping habits.

“How did you guys sleep? Was it okay?”

“It was great.”

Everyone exchanged polite pleasantries; no one wanted to admit it was uncomfortable, considering they had to stay for two more days. They were here to work, after all, not to enjoy luxury.

Breakfast was dry compressed biscuits. Without coffee, they were impossible to swallow. Su Wen took two symbolic bites and stopped.

As they were packing to leave, Yun Shu pulled him aside.

“What is it?”

“I told the captain we’d arrive a bit later. I know the way.”

“You want to sleep more?”

“No.”

Saying this, Yun Shu reached into his backpack and fished around until he pulled out an apple wrapped in exquisite paper. He held it out to Su Wen.

“Happy New Year.”

“Huh?” Su Wen froze for a few seconds. He thought about it—it really was. “New Year, huh.”

It was January 1st. The locals didn’t celebrate the solar New Year, and the outsiders had been too busy with work to remember.

After saying “Happy New Year” back, he was curious. “Why an apple?”

“Don’t you have to eat an apple on New Year’s to have a safe and peaceful (ping’an) year?”

Su Wen laughed. It was his first time hearing of an apple-eating custom for the New Year—wasn’t that a Christmas Eve thing? But it didn’t matter. He reached out, ruffled Yun Shu’s hair, and accepted the gesture.

He quickly tore open the packaging. Inside was a beautiful red apple, radiating a sweet aroma. It was a deep, even red and quite large—clearly hand-picked.

He held the apple, took off his gloves, grasped both sides, and with a sharp twist, the apple split perfectly in half.

“Aren’t you not supposed to share an apple?” (In Chinese, “splitting an apple” can sound like “separation.”)

“That’s for pears,” Su Wen said, finding Yun Shu’s jumbled bits of trivia half-amusing and half-strange. “Did you hear that when you were in Linzhou?”

“No,” Yun Shu said. “He told me. But I must have remembered it wrong.”

Su Wen didn’t even have to guess who “he” was. It was that person Yun Shu loved—the one he mentioned at every opportunity.

Su Wen looked at the half-apple in his hand, then at Yun Shu. The sweet apple suddenly lost its flavor. In the end, he said nothing more and simply urged, “Eat up quickly. Let’s go.”