Why is This Clingy Snow Leopard Acting So Innocent? - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Sheep Pen—No Good Comes to Those Near Him

The snow leopard was back.

Once again, she had broken into Solang’s sheep pen.

Solang’s entire family huddled outside the enclosure, none of them daring to step inside for fear of startling the predator. Currently, the only rangers on-site from the station were Yun Shu and Yu Shao. Su Wen, having no official authority, could only listen from the sidelines.

Outside the pen, over a dozen people—including the camera crew, Solang’s family, and the rangers—were gathered. The Tibetan mastiffs were barking ferociously, the sheep were huddled in a corner bleating incessantly, and even the nearby yaks were lowing in response to the commotion. With everyone talking at once, the din made normal communication nearly impossible.

Flashlight beams illuminated a corner of the pen, revealing the mother snow leopard. Her belly looked even larger; it seemed she was only days away from giving birth. She hissed, baring sharp teeth to ward off the crowd, but her body retreated further into the corner until she could go no further.

A short distance in front of her lay a dead sheep, not very large. She had just killed it but hadn’t had a chance to eat before being discovered. No one knew where she got the nerve to sneak back in, especially after Solang’s family had reinforced the fence and added another mastiff.

Solang sighed. “The Mountain God Festival hasn’t even arrived, and I’m already down another live sheep.”

“Someone should drive her out,” someone suggested. But both sides remained in a stalemate; no one moved. A few children giggled and played nearby until they were scolded and sent back into the house by the adults.

Solang’s other son stood by, watching the spectacle with an amused air, seemingly unbothered by the loss of the livestock. He had made a fortune trading caterpillar fungus (cordyceps) outside the mountains and had returned “successful and famous”; he didn’t care about a few sheep.

A flashlight beam swept across the newcomers and locked onto Su Wen. He recognized him—whether as the “second son of the Jihe Group” or the “movie star.” The former likely carried more weight here. He pushed through the crowd and offered Su Wen a cigarette.

When Su Wen politely declined, the man wasn’t offended. He tucked the cigarette into his own mouth and said in reasonably clear Mandarin, “Hey, you’re Su Wen, right? Remember me? You used to come here all the time. We even played together.”

Su Wen had no idea what he was talking about, but with cameras rolling, he couldn’t be rude. He simply said, “I don’t remember.”

The man, undeterred, leaned in closer. “My name is Pujiong. Ah, it doesn’t matter if you don’t remember. Come, come, let’s exchange contact info,” he said, pulling out his phone. “We should do business together in the future. You big corporations should help us little people out. Let those who got rich first help the others catch up!”

“I’ll pass on the contact info.”

Su Wen couldn’t be bothered with him; his entire attention was fixed on the snow leopard. As the others discussed a solution, Pujiong persisted, bringing two children forward for a photo. He was skilled at moral kidnapping—refusing an adult is one thing, but refusing children makes one look like a pretentious star. However, the kids clearly didn’t know who Su Wen was; they had been dragged there against their will, their faces full of reluctance. They would much rather be inside watching SpongeBob SquarePants on the TV.

Almost as soon as Pujiong grabbed the children and before he could even raise his phone, they vanished. He didn’t chase them. Instead, his gaze shifted to Yun Shu, who was on the phone with Song Nan discussing how to handle the situation.

Standing next to Su Wen, Pujiong spoke abruptly: “Why is a big star like you back in this wilderness, hanging out with a guy like Yun Shu again?”

“What’s the use of going to university? He couldn’t make a name for himself outside and ended up crawling back to the village to be a ranger. No ambition. Though I guess this is the only job that would take him.”

Su Wen ignored the noise and stepped toward Yun Shu.

Behind him, Pujiong continued: “I’m telling you for your own good, big star. If you listen to me, stop hanging around Yun Shu. Nothing good comes to people who stay with him. No good end for anyone.”

“His parents were like that.”

Su Wen didn’t look back.

“Your family too. Didn’t you guys have that car accident?”

Su Wen’s footsteps stopped dead. He turned around, his expression cold and sharp. “What do you mean by that?”

Pujiong didn’t elaborate—not because he realized he’d overstepped, but because he wanted to dangle more bait. “Hey, if we stay in touch and do some business, maybe I can tell you more. If you ask Yun Shu, he’ll just put on that innocent face like everyone owes him something. Besides, I know a secret of his. A secret almost no one here knows. It’s a real bombshell.”

Su Wen didn’t speak. He clenched his fists, his body trembling slightly, his eyes boring into Pujiong. He was thinking of something, and it clearly wasn’t anything good. Before he could step forward to demand more, a hand rested on his shoulder. A very faint, familiar scent followed.

Su Wen’s tension melted away.

“Are you okay?” Yun Shu squeezed his hand. Perhaps because Su Wen wasn’t wearing gloves, his hand felt like ice.

Su Wen turned to meet his gaze. There was a look in Yun Shu’s eyes that was inexplicably grounding. Su Wen sighed; the car accident years ago was an tragedy during a rainy season in a high-accident zone—how could it have anything to do with Yun Shu?

He relaxed his grip and replied, “I’m fine.”

Yun Shu turned to the man. “What were you just saying?”

Confronted by the subject of his gossip, Pujiong stiffened. It took him a long moment to stammer, “No, nothing. Didn’t say anything.”

Yun Shu led Su Wen away. Pujiong tried to follow, but Yun Shu looked back. His words were likely gentle as he spoke to Su Wen, but the glance he shot Pujiong was lethal. Pujiong remembered seeing a look like that once before—the eyes of a snow leopard. Cold, fierce, as if it would leap forward and go for the throat at any second. A chill ran down Pujiong’s spine, and he froze in place until his older brother, Ciren, called him away.

…

Song Nan’s instructions over the phone were simple: confirm the leopard wasn’t injured, then let her go.

Everyone was cleared out to a distance. Yun Shu approached cautiously, mimicking snow leopard vocalizations to soothe her. It didn’t do much; she continued to hiss, and she lunged whenever he got too close. But this proved she wasn’t seriously injured; she still had the strength to attack and was likely just terrified.

He stood up and told Yu Shao, “Clear the area. Let her leave on her own.”

It was a simple plan that was difficult to execute. Simple, because if the people left, the leopard would eventually follow. Difficult, because Solang’s livestock were his livelihood, and the mastiffs refused to leave the perimeter. Solang wanted her gone but feared losing more sheep.

The standoff lasted until Song Nan’s vehicle arrived. He began clearing the crowd immediately; having spent years in these mountains, his word carried weight. With one sentence, he sent Solang and the children back inside.

Lin Zhihuan also returned. After resolving things at the zoo, she brought necessary medicine and equipment. The birth was imminent. After checking the leopard from a distance, she agreed with Song Nan to let her go. Cheng Daozhi sent up a drone with a thermal camera to track her movements.

Once the area was deserted, the leopard seemed to lose her strength. She tried to drag the dead sheep with her, but it wouldn’t budge. After a long struggle, she finally abandoned it and disappeared into the night.

“She just left it?”

“Yeah,” Lin Zhihuan said. “She probably won’t hunt again. She needs to save her energy for the birth. We’re heading up the mountain the day after tomorrow at the latest.”

With the leopard gone, the matter was settled. Yu Shao handed Song Nan the compensation paperwork Solang had filed and drove off. Between the car and the motorcycle, the team was split up. Since Su Wen and Yun Shu weren’t going back to the station but straight home, they took the motorcycle.

Before leaving, Su Wen approached Solang and Ciren as they were fixing the pen.

His first words were: “Sell the sheep to me.”

Both men froze. Behind him, Yun Shu was equally stunned.

Ciren recovered first. “You want to buy a sheep? Sure, sure. Which one? I’ll give you a discount.”

“The one that was just killed.”

A dead sheep wasn’t worth much—only meat value. The two were hesitant to name a price, afraid of asking too much or too little. Su Wen, sensing their hesitation, offered: “Two thousand. How about that?”

Whether it was high or low, Pujiong heard the price from inside and rushed out to accept on their behalf. He pulled out a QR code for a transfer. Based on Pujiong’s reaction, Su Wen had likely overpaid.

Su Wen nodded and looked at the other two. “I’ll scan yours. It’s easier.”

Once the money was sent, Old Solang seemed to realize something. He asked Pujiong a question in their local dialect, and upon hearing the answer, his face lit up. In broken Mandarin, he exclaimed, “You are Old Su’s son!”

Su Wen nodded. Old Solang said, “You must come to the Mountain God Festival this year!” Su Wen didn’t quite catch the meaning, so Ciren translated. Su Wen remained quiet, offering only a few polite words.

Then, he helped Yun Shu lift the sheep onto the motorcycle. “We’re heading out!”

Yun Shu rode in front. To make room for Su Wen on the back, they slung the sheep across the front of the bike, with Su Wen’s hands acting as a brace to keep it steady.

“I thought you didn’t like mutton?” Yun Shu asked.

The night was pitch black, save for the headlight. Su Wen leaned forward. “Don’t go home yet.”

“Why?”

“Go to the mountain. Follow the route that mother leopard took. Leave the sheep for her.”

Yun Shu didn’t hesitate. He veered onto a different path. Eventually, they dismounted. Yun Shu carried the sheep while Su Wen supported it from behind, and they climbed into the darkness.

It wasn’t a wise time to be on the mountain. Wolf howls, bear calls, and leopard sounds drifted through the wind. Su Wen tugged at Yun Shu’s jacket. “Is this her route?”

“Close enough. This counts.”

Su Wen sighed. “Then let’s leave it here and go home.”

But as they started back, Su Wen’s mind began to race with “what-ifs.” “Hey, if we leave it there, won’t that male leopard or the wolves and bears just steal it? Can she even carry it away with her big belly?”

Yun Shu thought for a moment. “We can check with Director Cheng later. She has the drone footage. Let’s rest first; it’s very late.”

Su Wen lay in bed, unable to sleep, his mind filled with images of the sheep and the leopard. Much later, a rustling sound came from outside the window. He jumped—the incident with the strangers had left him on edge.

Then came the familiar “awoo-awoo.” He bolted upright and rushed to the window.

He yanked the curtain and opened the window. The leopard leaped in. When it turned around, its face was covered in blood, its body dotted with wounds, and its front paws were slashed.

Su Wen stood there, stunned. After a long silence, he gasped:

“What on earth happened to you?!”