Why is This Clingy Snow Leopard Acting So Innocent? - Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Nighttime—Don’t Open the Door for Strangers

Just as they believed, the mother snow leopard did not retreat despite her minor setback. At dawn, she began foraging and hunting again, dragging her injured front paw. Even though her heavy body had kept her from a full meal for a long time, her solitary silhouette traversed the peaks, leaving only a trail of light paw prints in the snow before vanishing into the falling flakes.

“Shao Zi’s car is parked below,” Song Nan said to the group while packing the audiovisual data they had collected. “We’ll head back once they arrive to take over the shift.”

Including the photographers, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. The overwhelming desire for rest left them with only enough energy to nod.

Su Wen leaned back half a step against Yun Shu, lowering his voice: “Is the leftover braised meat at home still edible?”

Yun Shu let out a soft laugh, glancing at a few strands of hair sticking out from Su Wen’s hat. He hadn’t washed in days and looked utterly exhausted. “Hungry?”

“Craving it.”

“I’ll make it for you again.”

“That’ll take too long.”

“You can sleep first. It’ll be ready when you wake up.”

Su Wen looked down in thought, then his conscience flickered: “Aren’t you going to sleep first when we get back?”

Yun Shu shrugged. “I’m not tired.”

“For real?” Su Wen turned to look. Yun Shu blinked, looking incredibly energetic, as if he could easily climb another few hundred meters.

Su Wen tucked his conscience away and took it for granted: “Then I want the brown-braised kind.”

A few seconds later, his conscience returned: “Wait, is there still meat at home? I’ll go buy some.” (Though he had no idea where one would buy meat in a place like this.)

“No need, there’s plenty left.”

…

Shift change at 4:00 PM; home by 6:00 PM. They firmly declined the invitation to eat at the station and headed straight home.

The room was spotless. Su Wen, refusing to give up, searched for a long time but only found a single strand of old fur in a corner. Behind the thick curtain, the window remained open by the same fist-wide gap he had left when he went up the mountain.

During the days he was away, it hadn’t visited once.

He felt a strange sense of loss and lay on the bed for a long time without falling asleep. He could understand why it wouldn’t come looking for him—after all, he had disappeared for days without reason. It was just a small leopard; it wouldn’t understand human behavior. It probably came, didn’t see him, left, and never returned.

Would it ever come back? He didn’t know.

Click. A very soft sound—Yun Shu closing the living room door.

Su Wen hadn’t been asleep; he sat up instantly. Sniffing the air, he was lured out by the aroma of meat drifting into the room.

“Sleep well?” Yun Shu looked at him while stirring the pot on the heater.

Su Wen yawned and trudged to the sofa, flopping down. He had complained before that the sofa was bone-jarringly hard, so Yun Shu had padded the whole thing. It wasn’t as comfortable as his sofa at home, but it was a world better than before.

“Sigh,” he exhaled. “Didn’t sleep at all.”

“Why?”

Driven by the scent, Su Wen dashed to the cupboard by the sink, snatched a bowl and chopsticks, and hurried back to his spot.

“I was abandoned,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Hmm?” Yun Shu looked over, blinking as if he hadn’t heard. “You were what?”

Su Wen dodged the question: “Is it ready to eat?”

Yun Shu covered the pot. “Wait a few more minutes.”

“How many?”

Yun Shu checked his watch. “Until the 50-minute mark.”

Seven minutes. Su Wen scooted to the heater and sat down, staring at the clay pot alongside Yun Shu. Inside, it was bubbling away, the fragrance wafting out in waves. Having not slept or eaten well for days, he wished he had eighteen mouths just to devour the contents the moment it opened.

When the minute hand hit 8:50, Su Wen reached for the lid. Yun Shu was about to find a towel for the heat, but seeing Su Wen moving first, he rushed to stop him.

“What? Still have to wait?” Su Wen looked at him with a dazed, starving expression.

Yun Shu paused for two seconds and smiled, but he didn’t compromise, holding Su Wen’s hand to keep him from the lid. “The lid is hot. Don’t touch it.”

“Do I look like that much of an idiot?”

“I didn’t say that.” Yun Shu took the bowl from him with his other hand and set it aside. “I’ll serve it for you.”

He lifted the lid, revealing the red-braised beef in its final form—enough to drive a starving man to madness.

“Can you not be so slow?” Seeing Yun Shu’s leisurely pace, Su Wen’s hunger-induced impatience flared. He reached for the ladle.

Yun Shu blocked his move and filled the bowl to the brim, packed with meat. Su Wen reached for it, but Yun Shu pulled the bowl back.

“Huh?” Su Wen was stunned. “Is that not for me?”

“It’s very hot.”

“I know.”

Yun Shu placed the bowl on the table in front of him. “Eat slowly.”

Su Wen picked up his chopsticks, speechless. “Why are you treating me like a child?”

“Don’t you look like one?”

Su Wen huffed. “Why would I?” He picked up a piece of meat, his mouth watering, but he blew on it to let it cool.

Before the first bite, he remembered something: “Didn’t you used to call me ‘Ge’ (Brother)? Why haven’t I heard you say it lately?”

“Do you want me to call you that?”

Chewing on the meat, his voice was muffled: “Whatever you want.”

For the past few days, it had been compressed biscuits, instant mountain rations, or the rice cakes the priests ate. He wasn’t used to it, but to keep his strength up, he forced himself to eat; when he really couldn’t take it, he used chocolate for energy. He had never suffered like this in his life. He finally understood why some people inhaled their food; the satisfaction of a mouthful of meat, the dopamine hit, instantly washed away the exhaustion of the past few days.

As he ate, Yun Shu took a phone call, gave a few affirmative hums, and hung up. Su Wen, now somewhat full, looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a problem at the breeding center. They want Sister Huan (Lin Zhihuan) to help. The captain is driving her there, and he wants me to cover the shift tonight.”

“Oh.”

The air went quiet. After a few seconds of hesitation, Yun Shu spoke tentatively: “Do you want to come with me?”

Su Wen’s chopsticks paused. “Do I have to?”

“I’d like you to come with me.”

That was it? He gave no ground: “No.”

“The bed in the duty room is separate. You won’t have to sleep with the others.”

Su Wen stuffed the last large chunk of meat into his mouth, leaned back, and shrugged. “It’s comfortable at home.”

There was no arguing with that logic. After all, Cheng Daozhi’s entire film crew was resting at the station. It would be awkward for everyone.

Yun Shu didn’t push. He silently tidied up the dishes. Su Wen didn’t think much of it; he went back to his room, lay down, and started searching “snow leopard psychological analysis” on his phone.

He didn’t find much. Just as he put the phone down, he saw Yun Shu leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching him.

“How did you get in?”

“You didn’t close the door.”

“Oh.” He sat up, scratching his hair. “Aren’t you going?”

Yun Shu didn’t answer directly. His tone became oddly serious. “I’m not home. Don’t go running around outside.”

“Huh?” Su Wen was baffled. “Do I look like the type to go out playing in the middle of the night?” Especially in the snow mountains at -30°C.

“And don’t open the door for strangers.”

Su Wen: “……”

After a moment: “Do you think I’m mentally impaired?”

“Don’t open the door for anyone!” Yun Shu seemed to think his warning lacked weight, so he started telling a story on the spot. “Sigh, you know, there’s a reason I’m saying this.”

“What reason?”

Yun Shu looked mysterious. “In these parts, there’s a legend. Actually, it’s not just a legend; it’s based on true stories. In the snow mountains, there are bears taller than humans.”

Su Wen had heard of this—the Tibetan Blue Bear often mentioned in nature documentaries.

“The Blue Bears. They are very smart. They eat people. They’ll knock on the doors and windows of herders at night, pretending to be lost travelers, to lure kind-hearted people out. And then…”

“And then what?”

“They eat them!”

His voice suddenly spiked, making Su Wen jump. He looked up to see Yun Shu’s eyes dancing with laughter. Realizing he’d been played, Su Wen took a swing at him.

“Why haven’t you left yet?!”

Yun Shu was grinning, letting the couple of swats land on his shoulder before giving Su Wen a comforting pat on the back. “While those are legends, you absolutely must not open the door for anyone, got it?”

“Sigh,” Su Wen was getting impatient. “Can you stop lecturing a mature adult with logic meant for children?”

Yun Shu looked at him with total sincerity. “Because you’re different. You’re here alone, and I want you to be safe.”

Su Wen’s heart gave a sudden thud. He blinked, then smiled. “Do I look like I need that much protection?”

Yun Shu just looked at him, saying nothing more. Time was ticking; he had to leave. Before walking out, he gave one last urgent instruction: “Don’t open the door for anyone, okay? No matter who it is, or in whose name. Even if they say it’s my mother, don’t open it. If you’re scared, call me.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine, fine,” Su Wen nodded. “I get it, I get it.”

“Even if you knock, I won’t open it,” he added.

Yun Shu choked on his next words, swallowed them, and finally left with: “Lock the doors and windows. Stay safe.”

Su Wen thought he was making a mountain out of a molehill. He had been here for days and hadn’t seen a single soul knocking at night. Except, of course, for the snow leopard that hadn’t shown up for days.

He left a crack in the window as usual, waiting for the leopard. He waited so long he almost fell asleep sitting on the edge of the bed. Then, a faint, rustling sound of footsteps came from outside.

Su Wen woke up instantly. He hurried to the window and lifted the curtain to let it in.

But he was wrong. There were no glowing, round eyes outside.

Disappointed, he was about to drop the curtain when his eyes caught something. Near the courtyard gate, there seemed to be two posts standing. Posts the height of a person.

But that spot had always been empty. Yun Shu had mentioned that for neatness and safety, he had cleared away all the wooden stakes around the yard, replacing them with iron and stone reinforcements.

A second later, the “posts” moved.

By the moonlight reflecting off the snow, Su Wen saw clearly: those were two people. One tall, one short.

At this hour, there shouldn’t be anyone here. Even travelers wouldn’t pass this house, which was far from others and tucked away in a corner of the village.

He held his breath and dropped the curtain, intending to pretend no one was home.

Thud, thud, thud.

The heavy iron gate was knocked. Outside, a woman’s voice spoke in broken Mandarin:

“Yun Shu! Amma (Mother) is here!”