Chapter 5: The Second Wolf

Very well! Shen Shi’s vision failed him once more. The kernel body—this thing represented the soul, the spirit. The soul’s level was a bit too lofty for now, but as for spirit… How much spiritual strength could a prisoner possibly possess? He had exhausted it all in just a few moments. Want to see the aura of the wolf? All he could do was stare wide-eyed, with no hope of perceiving anything special.

But as he looked, the aura of that wolf—it was so commanding, as if it saw the world as its prey, all beneath its contempt—that Shen Shi couldn’t help but feel a chill in his heart. Shocked as he was, his first instinct was to pull Gulu from his arms and place him behind him. He seized a burning stick from the campfire and stood up. He had no idea whether this wolf still feared fire; at this point, all common sense had become a muddle in his mind.

True, ever since graduation, the world had overturned his understanding again and again, but a wolf this formidable—if it didn’t fear fire, Shen Shi wouldn’t find it odd. So, holding the burning stick aloft, he tossed bird eggs and wild fruit into the flames.

If you wrap a chicken egg in sugar and throw it into a fire, it will explode. But Shen Shi wasn’t sure whether bird eggs and fruit would do the same. So, after tossing them in, he immediately gripped the stick with both hands, fixing his gaze on the blue wolf and slowly shifting his stance. Whether or not the eggs would explode, he meant to keep his distance from the fire. If they did burst, sparks would fly everywhere, and he didn’t want to be caught in the blast.

The great blue wolf glanced at the fire, sniffed, but caught no enticing aroma. It then turned its gaze back to Shen Shi, its blood-red tongue incessantly licking its snout. Clearly, the scent from the fire was nothing compared to the delicious fragrance emanating from Shen Shi himself. In tales of spirits and monsters, scholars were always favored prey, and Shen Shi, newly endowed with scholarly aura, was especially tempting—a veritable delicacy.

If it could speak, the blue wolf might have said, “A mouthful of scholarly spirit, and perhaps I too could attain enlightenment!”

But what gave it pause was that two-legged creatures like the one before it—some were easy prey, some were formidable adversaries.

As Shen Shi retreated, he suddenly bumped into something. Glancing down, he saw that it was Gulu, standing right behind him, its little paws clutching tightly at his trousers, like a kitten clinging to a new toy, utterly unwilling to let go.

“Gulu, let go—quick!” Shen Shi was desperate. He’d kept cats before; a loose thread or a trouser hem could keep a cat amused for hours. But this was no time for play.

Just as his attention wavered, the blue wolf sprang into action. The campfire meant nothing to it. In a single bound, its blue-green eyes flashed and appeared before Shen Shi, not five paces away. Shen Shi thrust his stick straight at the wolf’s nose—a military stabbing technique, aimed directly at its snout.

The blue wolf snorted disdainfully. An invisible force struck the burning tip of the stick. With a crisp crack, the flaming tip burst apart, sparks scattering like a brilliant display of fireworks. The wolf’s head and face were showered in sparks. Enraged, it was about to tear this insolent human to pieces.

But Shen Shi charged forward through the scattering sparks. The next thing the wolf saw was his massive fist, aimed squarely at its nose. A resounding crack—the blow landed solidly on the wolf’s nasal bone. Before it could react, agony shot through its abdomen as Shen Shi’s knee slammed into its belly.

Not content, Shen Shi’s left fist followed up, smashing into the wolf’s half-open jaws. This was no time for mercy—when fighting, you struck first, caught your opponent off guard, and pressed the advantage relentlessly.

The wolf whimpered and staggered backward in panic.

Shen Shi’s body sagged, eager to press the attack, but the calories from ten bird eggs were already spent. The wisp of elemental energy he’d absorbed wasn’t even enough to repair the damage from his imprisonment, let alone grant him the strength of a cultivator. Prison had ravaged his body; he’d even died once, and had never fully recovered. Now, fighting in this condition, even a man of iron would have collapsed. He simply had no strength left, and could only watch as the blue wolf retreated.

Panting heavily, Shen Shi steadied his breath, knowing he had to recover as much as possible, or else he’d be wolf food before the night was out.

Misfortune never comes singly. Suddenly, his nose felt hot—he wiped it and saw blood. He hadn’t eaten anything strange; why on earth was he having a nosebleed now?

But he dared not wipe it again. The wolf before him was too fearsome—one careless move and he’d be dead in an instant.

The blue wolf stared intently at Shen Shi, and he glared right back. This was a contest of wills; to avert his gaze or even blink would be to signal surrender, to invite an attack.

The wolf’s venomous gaze remained locked on Shen Shi. His counterattack had made an impression. The wolf did not advance, but after a moment’s deliberation, began to retreat, step by measured step, exuding a steady, oppressive presence.

Shen Shi’s heart sank.

This beast was clearly possessed of unusual cunning. He had no idea what it intended, but a wolf lurking in the darkness was surely more dangerous than one in the firelight.

However, after retreating about ten yards, the blue wolf sat down like a dog. After a while, its eyes seemed to close, its posture relaxed and at ease.

What was it doing? Why did its actions seem so familiar?

Ah—“The Tale of Two Wolves.”

Of course it was familiar; it was a story from primary school, a classic tale from Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio: “The Tale of Two Wolves.” In other words…

Shen Shi had no time for further reflection. He grabbed a handful of earth.

From behind him, another blue wolf suddenly sprang forth, launching a ferocious attack.

Just as expected—“The Tale of Two Wolves”: A butcher returning late, his basket of meat nearly empty, only bones left. Two wolves followed him for a long way. The butcher, frightened, threw them a bone. One wolf stopped, the other continued. He threw another, and the second wolf paused while the first resumed the chase. When the bones were gone, both wolves closed in together, threatening him from front and rear.

Without thinking, Shen Shi hurled the handful of earth behind him. There was a dull thud as it struck something.

No doubt about it—these two wolves were deviously clever: one lured the prey, the other ambushed from behind.

He had no time to see if he’d driven off the rear wolf, because as it attacked from behind, the wolf in front was also launching a coordinated assault, their ultimate tactic—a pincer attack.

This was truly pushing Shen Shi to the brink. One wolf alone had been a desperate challenge; who could have guessed there’d be two, working in perfect concert—one as bait, the other lying in early ambush?

Had Shen Shi not recalled his elementary school lessons, he would certainly have fallen prey to the wolves’ cunning this night.