Chapter 73

“Hand over the fish in your mouth. If you do, we will let you pass.”

The Fire Dragon Saliva—Ning Shiting never thought he would need to use it on himself in this lifetime.

At first, he had fully believed the news brought back from Gu Feiyin, thinking they had truly found a mage capable of dealing with the Snow Yao. Now that the world's spiritual energy had withered away, the Snow Yao’s power wasn't something just anyone could deal with.

He had brought the Fire Dragon Saliva with him this time, not intending to fight, but hoping this object might still come in handy—doing what little he could for the immortal people of Xizhou.

By a blunder of Yin and Yang, Gu Feiyin's plans had turned out far different than he imagined, yet the Fire Dragon Saliva could still serve a purpose under these circumstances—perhaps the small blessing amongst misfortune.

He finished applying the Fire Dragon Saliva to his body, then turned back to see the little wolf pup tilting its head, staring at him in a daze. He couldn't help but feel a bit awkward—his Jiaoren tail was something he rarely exposed to others. For the Jiaoren, their tails were a precious part of their bodies, seldom shown to outsiders.

But Ning Shiting barely remembered much about his own kind. What few memories he had were not particularly happy ones.

The North Sea Jiaoren were born with beautiful tails in the water, transforming into legs when they walked on land. He had lived on land for so long that his fishtail only returned when he bathed alone in stillness. To the Jiaoren, this form was the lightest and most agile state—but also the most vulnerable.

Once he finished preparing, he whispered to the little wolf beside him: "The road ahead is dangerous. Dianxia... please let me go alone. Don't mind me. If you encounter the Snow Yao—under no circumstances should you engage it directly—"

Before he could finish, the little wolf abruptly shifted, expanding into its towering white wolf form right before his eyes. With a lazy snap of its jaws, the wolf caught Ning Shiting around the waist, lifting him clean off the ground.

His delicate fish tail hung down, swaying helplessly in midair. In the maw of this ancient beast, the small Jiaoren appeared utterly insignificant.

"It’s not up to you. That thing is also my prey, and I have something I must find out." The voice invaded his mind—cold, imperious, carrying an undeniable authority—then flickered away as quickly as it had come.

The white wolf held him with surprising care, avoiding its razor-sharp teeth. Ning Shiting began to worry—his Poisoned Jiaoren blood might harm the wolf—but then noticed Gu Tingshuang had carefully retrieved his discarded robes, rolling them up and tucking them between the wolf's teeth and his body, creating a good cushion to keep him from touching the wolf directly.

Ning Shiting had no place to steady himself—he could only reach out carefully, wrapping his arms around the little wolf’s muzzle and kissing it. His hands sank into the coarse white fur, the white wolf's innate heat turning into a scalding breath that gently enveloped him.

Night had already fallen. Spirit Mountain was riddled with danger. Gu Tingshuang carried Ning Shiting along the trail, following faint tracks. At first, their search was aimless—where the snow lay deepest was where the Snow Yao was most likely to hide or pass through. Ning Shiting strained his Jiaoren hearing, hoping to pick out any unusual movements hidden within the howling wind and snow.

The snow grew heavier. The loose snowdrifts caused Gu Tingshuang to sink half a foot with every step. He began at a run but soon realised the trouble of moving this way, switching to bounding leaps instead.

Though the White Wolf God could fly, it still needed the ground to push off for momentum.

Ning Shiting was somewhat afraid of heights. Each time Gu Tingshuang propelled them into the air with all four paws, Ning Shiting would instinctively close his eyes and hold his breath.

Perhaps Gu Tingshuang noticed. A low rumbling sound echoed from the wolf’s throat—like laughter. After that, the leaps became lower and slower, the movements gentler.

The snowstorm howled around them. Suddenly, the path ahead was blocked. Gu Tingshuang was preparing to leap over a ravine when they saw a large pack of white wolves gathered at the edge, staring at them with predatory eyes.

Ning Shiting was surprised. “White wolves? Is it your clan?”

Gu Tingshuang didn't answer, but Ning Shiting quickly realised—the wolves before them weren’t the same pack that followed Gu Tingshuang. These were the ones who had refused to submit to him.

Gu Tingshuang could understand wolf speech. He halted, ears pricking forward, golden eyes flashing with hostility. His massive body crouched low—ready to fight at any moment.

The wolves ahead belonged to a different bloodline. They had no way to reach the White Wolf God's shrine at Yongyue Cliff to seek shelter from the snow. The Snow Yao’s rampage had devastated the creatures of Spirit Mountain—those who could flee had long since vanished. Now, the wolves had no prey to hunt as a result. In ordinary winters, the pack would have stockpiled food in advance—but the Snow Yao had come in early autumn, during the season when the white wolves' prey was at its most abundant.

The white wolf pack before them was gaunt, skin stretched tight over bone, but their ferocity was undiminished.

“Hand over the fish in your mouth. If you do, we will let you pass.”

Gu Tingshuang replied, “Submit to my pack. From now on, you'll have your fill of fish—any kind of fish you desire, except for the one in my mouth.”

All were sourced from the Qing Wang’s estate—if the wolves wanted, even dragon liver and phoenix marrow could be delivered. Of this, Gu Tingshuang was certain.

“Arrogant! Recognising a human as Wang—that’s the most absurd and laughable thing of all!”

A chorus of howls rose from the wolves ahead, their bodies tense as they waited for the moment to pounce. They couldn’t believe any wolf could catch a fish in this season, let alone have the luxury of eating one at will.

A golden light flared in Gu Tingshuang's borrowed eyes—like a sudden spark igniting into flame. The wolves poised to strike immediately flinched back in unison.

“To be of divine blood and still driven to fight by hunger—that is the most pitiful failure of all,” Gu Tingshuang growled, voice low with impatience. “A Wang who cannot provide is cursed by heaven. I have come to slay the Snow Yao and protect our kin. Do not trouble me further. Those who follow will taste the king's fangs.”

His words made the wolves waver.

They could see clearly—this wolf was stronger, sleeker, his fur still bright and full even in the bitter cold. Meanwhile, they were patchy and gray, their ribs stark under thin pelts. Hunger had drained their strength, leaving them little more than hollow beasts.

Finally, they parted, clearing the way. Only when Gu Tingshuang leapt past did they dare follow at a cautious distance.

Ning Shiting, heart still pounding, whispered, “What just happened? I thought they were going to attack you…”

At that, he felt himself gently placed down. Gu Tingshuang lowered his great head, brushing his nose against him, sniffing curiously.

To him, this little fish was far too conspicuous—bright, soft, and perhaps in the eyes of other creatures, he might still look quite delicious.

“How about you find a place to hide and wait for me instead of following me around?”

Before Gu Tingshuang could convey this thought, his nose suddenly caught an unusual scent on the wind. It was strange—like roasted meat from a mortal marketplace or a banquet where countless rare delicacies mingled together. Even though the little wolf was full, the smell made him restless, saliva pooling in his mouth. The primal beast instinct buried deep in his blood began to stir—a heady, irresistible thrill at the presence of prey.

The scent was both the copper tang of blood and the mouthwatering aroma of meat.

Its richness exceeded even Gu Tingshuang’s understanding. The little wolf, who had been obediently curled up in the depths of his mind, was now rolling around anxiously as if starved for centuries—despite having been stuffed full of snacks by Ning Shiting before they left, to the point of waddling.

This was highly abnormal.

The little wolf was the only one in the pack raised by Gu Tingshuang since birth, following him through a life of hardship. The only lesson Gu Tingshuang ever drilled into him was to suppress his instincts—to learn the patience of long hibernation and endurance.

The little wolf had learned well—until Ning Shiting arrived. The Jiaoren was simply too indulgent, and under his care, the little wolf had grown complacent.

Sensing Gu Tingshuang’s disapproval, the little wolf was about to protest when Ning Shiting suddenly whispered, “It’s Lust—Lust Incense.”

The great wolf tilted his head, amber eyes flickering with a questioning light.

“A type of Incense art ,” Ning Shiting explained. “One of the legendary formulas recorded in the Scroll of Nine Deaths. For non-humans, it awakens hunger. For humans… it stirs lust.”

Gu Tingshuang was just about to ask, And what are you feeling right now? Are you more fish or man?—but before he could rumble out the words, Ning Shiting’s expression suddenly changed.

“No… it’s Ting Shu. They put the incense on Ting Shu! They're using him to bait the Snow Yao—and the ones following the scent won’t just be the Snow Yao.”

This trip was really dangerous.

Gu Tingshuang’s paw shot out, trying to pin Ning Shiting down to stuff him back into his mouth—but the Jiaoren was faster. He dove straight into the snow, leaving behind only the flash of a sharp tail blade that nearly nicked the wolf’s fleshy paw pad.

For a moment, nothing stirred beneath the snow. An unfamiliar panic flickered through Gu Tingshuang—so fleeting even he failed to notice it. His tail lashed as he sniffed the air, searching. Then—far off in the snow—something pale blue curved through the moonlit frost. The Jiaoren surfaced, delicate and glimmering, silver-white hair shining under the cold moonlight.

He turned back to look, saying nothing—his black eyes shimmering with a hint of deep sea green.

For one breathless moment, the entire world became an eerie, exquisite dream. The soft snow transformed into an ocean through which the Jiaoren swam. Snowlight and moonlight merged into strange, shifting colours, illuminating heaven and earth. Ning Shiting was like a flawless jewel born from the heart of the world—one-of-a-kind. So fragile that a single touch might dissolve him into mist and scatter him into nothingness.