Why is This Clingy Snow Leopard Acting So Innocent? - Chapter 39

Chapter 39: Surprise—Not Surprised At All

Yun Shu didn’t bother going into his room; he started stripping right there in the living room, not even suggesting that Su Wen might want to look away.

Su Wen was more than happy to stay. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the show with great interest as if he were at the cinema. He watched as Yun Shu unhurriedly lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it up bit by bit to reveal a narrow waist and lean, firm muscles along the curve of his spine.

“Hey, Yun Shu, you know what?”

Yun Shu pulled the shirt over his head. Hearing Su Wen speak, he turned around, looking at him with eyes full of confusion, waiting to hear whatever whim Su Wen had come up with now.

“If you became one of those ‘thirst-trap’ streamers, you’d probably be a top-tier influencer by now.”

Yun Shu glanced at him, the words dying in his throat. He retracted his gaze, picked up the ceremonial robe from the sofa, and swung it over his shoulders. Without tying the sash or closing the collar, he let it hang wide open. He turned to face Su Wen, essentially offering a “fan service” view, and asked with total sincerity:

“Like this?”

The lean, hard muscles of his chest and abdomen were half-hidden behind the fabric, occasionally peeking out—a perfect exercise in teasing one’s appetite.

But Su Wen was a gentleman. As the saying goes, he could have beauty in his lap and remain unmoved. Even if Yun Shu stood before him completely naked, Su Wen would simply walk up, pinch his chest, and comfort him softly:

“Not in the living room. We need to go to bed.”

“…Ge,” Yun Shu let out a soft sigh, reining in Su Wen’s wandering thoughts and putting a stop to his nonsense. “I’m asking if this is how the clothes are worn.”

Su Wen: “…”

Two seconds passed before Su Wen, clearly a bit embarrassed and defensive, snapped back, “Didn’t you know how to put them on just now?”

Yun Shu looked innocent. “I’ve only seen others wear them. I’ve never worn them myself.”

Su Wen: “…”

It was an unassailable reason. Poor little Yun Shu; neglected at home and without a mother, he had never had the chance to wear such clothes.

Thinking this, Su Wen shook the “trash” out of his brain. He reached out, pulled the fabric together to hide the “benefits,” and expertly tied the sash and fixed the collar in one smooth motion.

Su Wen stepped back, looking Yun Shu up and down. The robe looked as if it had been custom-made for him, perfectly accentuating his physique and making his shoulders look broader and his waist narrower. The silver-white of his hair matched the silver patterns on the robe, and against his wheat-toned skin, his sharp features took on a raw, wild quality. He looked like a beast from the mountains that had taken human form.

“These clothes,” Su Wen’s teasing tone vanished. He crossed his arms, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “They really suit you.”

“Really?” This was the first time Yun Shu had worn such a garment, and he rarely received such compliments. He looked down at the white robe and its intricate patterns. In the past ten years, people had mocked him, saying he’d never get to wear such a thing in his life. Ten years later, it was finally on him. Even if it was only temporary.

The robe was eventually returned to Ke Ning. It was expensive—worth over a hundred thousand—and the village couldn’t just give one to Yun Shu simply because of Su Wen’s reputation.

…

By the time they descended the mountain again, it was the “Beginning of Spring” (Lichun). The Mountain God Festival was only three days away.

The mother snow leopard was doing well, and the two cubs were growing healthily. Aside from scheduled feedings, the rangers had begun taking intermittent breaks.

Cheng Daozhi took the cultural filming very seriously, practically living at the village committee office to oversee the final deployment. She gave Su Wen a break, but with conditions: he couldn’t go to the crowded tourist areas, as being spotted too early would cause a stir.

For his vacation days, he had two choices: stay within a 500-meter radius of the ranger station, or head back up the mountain with the patrol. With the influx of tourists, the rangers had to conduct regular mountain checks for safety.

In the office, with only the three of them present, Su Wen didn’t bother hiding his lazy nature. He slumped over the desk, head propped on his hand. “Is that really it? No other options?”

Cheng Daozhi shrugged. “You could choose to walk the cultural filming route again. Think of it as a dress rehearsal.”

Su Wen: “…”

What a heartless director. The day after they had come down the mountain, he had spent the whole time scouting routes with her. He hadn’t rested once. Forget the routes—he could probably perform the entire ritual process of the festival in his sleep by now.

The rehearsal suggestion was out of the question. He sat up and poked Yun Shu. “Yun Shu, find somewhere to take me for a walk.”

Before Yun Shu could answer, Cheng Daozhi reiterated, “No crowded tourist spots, and nowhere dangerous.”

“It’s fine,” Su Wen said dismissively. “I don’t want to see people anyway.” He jerked his chin toward Yun Shu. “And he doesn’t want me dead. It works out perfectly for your requirements.”

It was a fair point. Cheng Daozhi was busy and didn’t want to waste time arguing, so she waved them away.

Su Wen didn’t actually care about “playing.” If he had the time, wouldn’t lying in bed be more comfortable than wandering around outside? But Yun Shu took his words to heart. Early the next morning, he was in the living room with his gear packed, waiting.

Su Wen yawned, took a sip of water, and asked, “Is it your turn to patrol today?”

Yun Shu shook his head and urged, “Hurry up and get dressed.”

“It’s not even our turn,” Su Wen said, unhurriedly collapsing back onto the sofa. “Why are you going to the station?”

Yun Shu’s mind went blank for two seconds before he looked at him. “Didn’t you say you wanted me to take you somewhere?”

Su Wen’s hand, which was scrolling through his phone, paused. At the time, he’d just wanted to get Cheng Daozhi off his back, so he’d used Yun Shu as a shield. He’d forgotten to explain that he actually didn’t want to go anywhere at all.

Who knew that not only did Cheng Daozhi not believe he wanted to stay home, but even Yun Shu had ignored his laziness. His reputation for being a restless wanderer in his younger years was clearly well-established.

Seeing Yun Shu so enthusiastic, Su Wen couldn’t bring himself to throw cold water on the idea. Instead, he tried to lure him with the comforts of home: “Don’t you think it’s more comfortable to stay inside in this miserable weather?”

Yun Shu didn’t say anything. He stood up and, in a rare move, pulled back the heavy thermal curtain. Piercing sunlight flooded through the old, mottled glass windows, scattering across the floor—the first sunlight of spring.

But the temperature was still far from warm. Su Wen pulled his thick coat tighter around himself, put away his phone, and sighed. “Where are we going? I’m not going anywhere too far.”

Yun Shu remained silent.

This was a bug in their communication—and a small warning Su Wen should have noticed. He realized too late, after they had been trekking through the mountains until he felt like a dead dog, exactly what that silence meant.

The snow hadn’t fully melted. Their vehicle was parked at the base of the mountain. Yun Shu said they weren’t here to “climb” the mountain. As they walked, Su Wen realized they were here to “circle” the mountain. Apparently, if you don’t go straight up, it doesn’t count as climbing?!

He had already emptied one bottle of portable oxygen. Su Wen simply collapsed onto the snow. After several days of exhaustion, his battery was in the red. Yun Shu helped him up, letting him lean into his arms to catch his breath, and offered comfort: “We’re almost there.”

Su Wen rolled his eyes. “Is that statement more or less credible than the fact that you’re a lunatic?”

Yun Shu blinked, looking innocent. “I wanted to take you to see something.”

“See what?”

“A surprise?”

Su Wen was speechless for a moment. In the barren snow mountains, even at the start of spring, it wasn’t exactly a scenic season. “If I’m not surprised, I am actually going to kill you.”

Yun Shu grunted in response and took the pack off his back. “I’ll carry you for the rest of the way.”

“At least you have some conscience left.”

Whether a man’s muscles were for show or his height was a waste depended on whether he could be useful in a crisis. Or so said Su Wen, the expert in nonsense.

He clung to Yun Shu’s back. This guy—with a heavy pack in front and a full-grown man on his back—still walked with a steady gait. Within a few steps, Su Wen felt much better. It was even more comfortable than collapsing on the ground. Wrapped in his scarf and hat, hands tightly around Yun Shu, he felt the warmth from Yun Shu’s body slowly transferring to his own.

Su Wen started to drift off. After a long period of swaying, he felt someone patting his head.

In a daze, his mouth opened before his eyes did. “Hmm… wha…?”

Yun Shu gently patted his head like one might a child and whispered, “We’re here. Do you want to sleep longer?”

Su Wen buried his face in Yun Shu’s shoulder, nuzzling a few times before looking up. “I need oxygen.”

Yun Shu held the oxygen bottle to his face.

Once he was clear-headed, Su Wen opened his eyes. A few frozen droplets of moisture hung from Yun Shu’s eyelashes. Su Wen reached out, poking a gloved finger through to flick the droplets away.

Yun Shu looked back at him. “Still tired?”

Su Wen felt like teasing him. “If I say yes, can I stay on your back?”

Yun Shu hoisted him higher, his strong hands holding him steady. “As long as you’re comfortable.”

“Ooh,” Su Wen arched an eyebrow, his eyes full of playful mockery. “I didn’t realize you were such a sweetheart before.”

Yun Shu met his gaze for only a second before turning away, jerking his chin toward the view ahead. Su Wen followed his direction.

Before them was a vast, open expanse of snow. From the snow-covered peaks and vegetation to the frozen river, everything was a world of white—lonely and ethereal. Su Wen’s heart skipped a beat. It was a place of unpolluted purity, almost too beautiful for words.

Dozens of meters away, beside a hole in the ice in the middle of the river, a snow leopard was crouched low, unhurriedly drinking water. Its gaze was fixed on the two of them.

Su Wen stiffened. This was the gaze of a true predator. He didn’t know if they were being viewed as prey. Encyclopedias always said snow leopards were extremely wary of humans and would flee at the slightest proximity.

From any angle, this wasn’t his snow leopard. It had intact ears and, most importantly, a look of extreme, unfamiliar vigilance. At least, his was a “big cat,” whereas this was a “snow leopard.”

Soon, the leopard finished drinking. It let out a cry toward them before swiftly retracing its tracks and vanishing. Only when it was completely gone did Su Wen snap out of his daze and turn to Yun Shu. “Did you see that snow leopard?”

Yun Shu gave a quiet “Mhm.”

“It looked like it recognized us,” Su Wen said. “It didn’t even run.”

Yun Shu gazed silently at the spot where the leopard had disappeared and said nothing. After waiting a long while without a response, Su Wen reached out and yanked a lock of Yun Shu’s hair from under his hat.

“Ow—” Yun Shu looked at him in pain.

Su Wen felt zero guilt, speaking with total confidence: “What were you zoning out for?”

“I wasn’t zoning out.”

“Then why didn’t you answer me?”

“Uh…” Yun Shu blinked a few times. “What did you just ask?”

Su Wen smacked his head. “And you say you weren’t zoning out? What were you thinking about?”

Yun Shu hesitated for a second before replying, “I really wasn’t thinking about anything.”

Seeing him like this, Su Wen felt himself becoming a bit neurotic. A figure inexplicably popped into his head, and unable to hold back the thought, he asked directly:

“Is this where you used to… date the person you like?”