Chapter 44
“Hurry up, over there, over there, oh dear, you’re hopeless. This way…”
“Stop shouting, you’re scaring him.”
“Good boy, don’t move. I’ll give you something tasty… Ah…”
“Oh no…”
“Idiots! Be quiet, don’t disturb the young master!” An elderly man’s voice, full of authority, boomed, completely drowning out the others.
Everyone froze, their faces dark with frustration—it’s you, sir, who’s actually disturbing the young master.
Murong Qiufeng was reading a book. Earlier, he had vaguely heard some noise outside but didn’t pay much attention to it. It wasn’t until he heard Old Yang’s scolding that he looked up curiously and put down his book to walk outside.
As soon as he stepped out, he heard a group of people whispering and moving chaotically in the courtyard.
Before he could speak, he suddenly heard a swoosh, and a white object was flying toward him, seemingly trying to enter the room behind him. Startled, he instinctively reached out to catch it.
What he caught was soft to the touch. He squeezed it gently and brought it to the front of him, only to find himself staring into a pair of wide, frightened black eyes.
Murong Qiufeng was taken aback—it was a little snow-white wolf cub.
Murong Qiufeng had always been fond of small animals, especially white ones. His love for them was almost as strong as his passion for music. Seeing this fluffy little creature, he stood there stunned, his eyes sparkling with delight.
The little wolf cub, apparently frightened by his sudden action, trembled in his arms but didn’t dare move.
“Ah, young master!” All the servants immediately turned pale, bowing their heads and trembling in fear. The lord had explicitly ordered that no one was to disturb Murong Qiufeng. The maid who had accidentally let the wolf cub escape was especially frightened, on the verge of tears, biting her lip to hold them back.
Old Yang, however, just walked over with a kindly smile. “Young Master Feng, I hope we didn’t disturb you. These young ones are too careless.”
Murong Qiufeng snapped out of his daze, turning to look at Old Yang. Without realizing it, he hugged the wolf cub closer, gently stroking it to calm it down. “It’s fine, Old Yang. What’s going on?”
“Oh, today was the winter hunt. The lord just caught this rare blood wolf cub, which lost its mother. The lord thought you might find it lonely here and wondered if you’d like it. If not, we’ll just skin it and make some soup—I’ve heard the entire blood wolf is valuable.” Old Yang spoke slowly, his tone warm, though his words carried a hint of brutality.
When Murong Qiufeng heard that Shangguan Ye had specially brought this for him, he felt a warmth in his heart. But as he listened to Old Yang’s words, he couldn’t help but frown. “I like this little one very much. I’ll keep it. Has the lord returned?”
“The hunt just ended, and there will be a celebration tonight. The lord mentioned you needn’t wait for him for dinner.”
“Alright, thank you. Could you please bring me some goat’s milk and hot water?” Murong Qiufeng was already focused entirely on the little wolf cub, who had stopped trembling under his gentle caresses. He nodded politely to Old Yang before turning back into the house, placing the cub on a mat near the fireplace, and continued to stroke it gently. “Don’t be afraid, you’re safe now.”
The little wolf cub seemed to understand his words or at least sensed his kindness. It whimpered softly, its big black eyes looking up at him innocently.
Murong Qiufeng chuckled softly, affectionately rubbing its head and scratching under its chin.
The little wolf cub slowly lowered its guard, cautiously rubbing its head against his hand. Realizing there was no danger, it closed its eyes, nuzzling him like a spoiled child, even sticking out its little tongue to lick his fingers in a gesture of trust.
“Little one, are you hungry?” Murong Qiufeng scratched its chin just as someone brought the things he had requested.
He carefully placed a small bowl of goat’s milk on the ground for the cub, then prepared some warm water, adding a bit of medicinal powder to disinfect its wounds.
The cub was happily lapping up the milk when Murong Qiufeng suddenly picked it up, prompting it to wriggle in protest.
Murong Qiufeng chuckled softly, scratching its chin again. “Don’t be in such a hurry, little one. We need to take care of these wounds first, or you might get sick.” The little cub still had some injuries, and it was impressive that it had managed to run around with those wounds.
Judging from Old Yang’s words, it seemed the mother wolf had been killed during the hunt, and Shangguan Ye had taken a liking to the cub and brought it back.
Murong Qiufeng sighed, gently stroking its head. So young and already orphaned—it must feel lost and scared.
Murong Qiufeng’s love for small animals was perhaps a form of projection or a way to compensate for his own lack of familial affection. Because of his upbringing, where he received little care from his relatives, he liked to take in stray animals and pamper them. Over time, this had turned into a habit of spoiling his pets.
Of course, he didn’t hold any grudges against those who had killed the mother wolf. He understood that it was all part of the natural order—cruel, but inevitable. It was the law of survival, where only the strong survive, and no one could be blamed for it.
When the cub was placed in the water, it struggled at first, splashing water onto Murong Qiufeng. But it soon realized he was treating its wounds, and it calmed down, quietly allowing him to work.
After eating and drinking its fill, the little wolf cub abandoned the soft mat and climbed onto Murong Qiufeng, snuggling into his embrace. It looked up at him with those big black eyes, whimpering softly as if asking something.
Murong Qiufeng was holding a book, and when he looked down into those eyes, he found them beautiful, like the night sky. He gently patted the cub’s head. “Little one, let’s give you a name. Hmm, how about ‘Xiaoye’? Just like your eyes, beautiful like the night sky.”
The little wolf cub seemed pleased, whimpering softly and nudging its head against his stomach.
“Sleep well, Xiaoye.” Murong Qiufeng gently patted its head, then paused. Xiaoye… Ye… Ye? He realized the two names sounded similar. He couldn’t help but laugh at the thought, wondering how Shangguan Ye would react if he heard this name.
Later that night, Murong Qiufeng was awakened by some noise outside. He frowned; it was rare to hear such disturbances in the courtyard. Could it be another small animal causing trouble? But it was so late.
He put on an outer robe and walked over to the window, peering out. He noticed some commotion next door—was Shangguan Ye back?
He opened the door just in time to see Old Yang standing at the entrance, directing a couple of maids. Murong Qiufeng frowned, “Old Yang, what’s going on?”
