Chapter 235: Blocking the Road

The next morning, before dawn, Zhu Ping’an woke up from his sleep. Last night, he had dreamed of his mother making him a steaming bowl of chicken soup. Waking up, he realized that he was in this desolate wilderness, a stark contrast, and the loneliness felt overwhelming.

The fire from last night had already gone out, and the north wind howled. The wind in the makeshift shelter echoed, causing Zhu Ping’an to shiver involuntarily. He hurriedly dressed and got out of bed, tidying up his bedding and other belongings.

His only companion, the Shamat black horse, had made a pile of dung overnight. It looked at Zhu Ping’an with an innocent expression, its punk-like face staring at him. Damn, it looked like one of those popular Vietnamese boy band members but still tried to act cute. The first thing Zhu Ping’an did in the morning was to scoop up the dung, a routine now, followed by boiling water and washing up, before finally practicing calligraphy for a while.

The sky was overcast and gray, with no sunrise. It wasn’t until after breakfast that visibility gradually improved.

Zhu Ping’an, dressed in thick leather clothes, a leather hat on his head, and leather boots on his feet, sat on the Shamat black horse’s back, holding a scroll of books, reading while riding. Since there was only one mountain road, he wasn’t afraid of getting lost. He let the Shamat black horse wander freely while occasionally looking up to check the direction. After confirming he was still on the right track, he continued reading.

This place should be a southern extension of the Dabie Mountains, with rolling hills. He had been traveling for a long time and still hadn’t seen a soul.

After walking another mile or so along the mountain road, while reading, Zhu Ping’an suddenly felt his fingers grow cold. He looked up and saw little snowflakes falling, fluttering down gently.

Soon, the small snowflakes grew larger and thicker, becoming dense and compact. Clusters and flurries of snow fell from the sky, like countless shredded cotton balls tumbling down.

In an instant, the mountain path was covered in a blanket of white. As the Shamat black horse trotted along, Zhu Ping’an could hear the crunching sound of snow beneath the hooves.

He placed the scroll of books into his crossbody bag and held the reins with both hands, slowing the horse down. He preferred to take it slow and steady, not wanting to rush and cause an accident.

The snow kept falling heavier and heavier, and everything around was pure white.

Riding on the Shamat black horse, Zhu Ping’an looked at the snowflakes being blown by the north wind, creating different patterns. As he turned a bend in the road, he saw an old, shabby dog with dirty fur standing in the middle of the mountain path.

There was a dog here? And it seemed to be an old one.

The presence of a dog meant there must be people nearby.

Zhu Ping’an glanced at it and felt a bit of joy. He had been walking through the wilderness for most of the day and was finally about to encounter people.

But a good dog doesn’t block the way, so why was this old dog standing in the middle of the road, staring straight at the Shamat black horse and him? Its eyes were actually quite bright, amber in color.

When the Shamat black horse saw the dog blocking the path, it stopped, the sound of its horseshoes striking the snow echoed. The horse snorted, its breath heavy.

What’s going on? Why isn’t it moving? Zhu Ping’an tugged at the reins, but the Shamat black horse was being stubborn, refusing to move forward. Its punk-like face was still staring at the dog in front.

Zhu Ping’an was about to dismount to check why the horse wasn’t moving when he caught a glimpse of the old dog again.

Hmm, the dog may be old, but its eyes were still quite sharp, grayish fur, a greenish back with a yellow belly, and a fluffy tail.

A tail?

Zhu Ping’an paused and looked closely at the old dog in front. Then, despite the cold winter snow falling, sweat appeared on his forehead.

The old dog stood calmly in front, its tail even twitching, its amber eyes fixed on him and the Shamat black horse.

“Howl.”

The old dog sat quietly, with a calm demeanor and a steady breath. It raised its voice, howling with a drawn-out, eerie sound that was as unpleasant as it could be, sending chills down one’s spine.

That’s not an old dog, that’s clearly an old wolf.

What should you do when you encounter a wolf?

Before, Zhu Ping’an had asked a classmate from Inner Mongolia this question, and the classmate answered like this:

When you encounter a wild wolf alone, don’t turn around and run. Humans can never match wolves in speed. The correct approach is to stand still, make direct eye contact with the wolf, and keep your gaze fixed without looking away. Hold your ground for as long as you can.

Is that all there is to it?

The classmate grinned and said, “Well, this way, you’ll die with more dignity.”

Although the classmate was mostly joking, there was some truth in what was said: don’t turn and run. Even if you’re riding a horse, you won’t outrun a wolf.

There’s another reason why you shouldn’t run when you encounter a wolf: it might think you’re prey trying to escape, or it might interpret your movement as an attack, prompting it to retaliate. When facing a wolf, it’s best to slowly retreat, especially toward areas with more people. Wolves generally fear crowds, and unless it’s sure of victory, it won’t risk attacking a person.

Of course, that doesn’t apply here. This is a desolate mountain range, with only oneself present, and no place to retreat.

However, despite sweating coldly, Zhu Ping’an didn’t panic. While maintaining calm eye contact with the wolf, he pondered his response strategy.

Wolves are afraid of fire, so they can be driven away with fire.

Zhu Ping’an thought of this method. He carried a fire starter with him, and there was also a set of fire steel and flint in his pack. If he used the fire starter to ignite an old piece of clothing, it should be able to drive the wolf away—if nothing went wrong.

Because of Zhu Ping’an’s steady gaze and the sound of his horse’s hooves hitting the ground, the old wolf hesitated and didn’t attack right away.

This old wolf had originally been the leader of a pack deep in the mountains. But six months ago, it was defeated by a younger wolf and was driven out by the pack. Now, it had been wandering for half a year, struggling with hunting due to old age, sometimes going hungry for days. Somehow, it had ended up near the mountain’s edge, where it had been starving for several days. Now, with heavy snowfall, it knew that hunting would be even harder in the near future.

Thus, despite its hesitation, hunger pushed the old wolf to keep searching for an opportunity to attack. Its amber eyes were locked on Zhu Ping’an, watching for the right moment to strike.

Zhu Ping’an, while still holding eye contact with the wolf, slowly reached for the hidden clasp on his saddle. He fumbled with the ropes and carefully attached the dagger his older brother Zhu Pingchuan had given him for self-defense to his sleeve. With the dagger in hand, Zhu Ping’an felt a little more composed.

With the dagger for protection, he could also begin to work on starting the fire to drive the wolf away.

To buy some time, Zhu Ping’an first threw a few pieces of dried meat, which his mother Chen had prepared for a snack, toward the wolf.

As Zhu Ping’an threw the meat, the wolf crouched low, bristling its fur, pulling back its lips and ears, exposing its fangs, and growling a few times while arching its back.

When the dried meat was thrown, the wolf arched its back and took a few steps back, avoiding the meat, its tail lowered.

The wolf sniffed the air as it eyed the dried meat, then, still eyeing Zhu Ping’an, it crept forward and snatched a piece of meat with its mouth. It chewed for a moment, then swallowed it in one bite.

The wolf continued to eat the meat, all while keeping its amber eyes fixed on Zhu Ping’an.

Indeed, it was a treacherous wolf. After eating, it kept staring at him, showing no sign of abandoning the hunt. Holding the dagger and fire starter, Zhu Ping’an quietly cursed the wolf in his mind.

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