Chapter 50 For Whom Braving the Snow and Wind "Little Dog".
It's not easy for Heng Qichun to coax a wolf.
The pastries on the plate were persimmon cakes, which he had snatched from a junior disciple of the Heavenly Sound Palace. When he took them away, Nan Yushan scolded him, asking him when he had developed a taste for such sweet and cloying things.
Heng Qichun didn't answer, but he remembered that Lou Yan used to love eating it when she was a child.
I don't know when it started, but the wolf cub that used to be greedy and playful has turned into someone with such deep hatred and is always going against him.
Heng Qichun stood up again, rewrapped the pastries in his hand with oil paper, casually placed them aside, and entered Shenxiao Palace.
"Since you're not going to eat it, then forget it." As he said this, he couldn't help but cough again, the itch in his throat feeling like it was being eroded by wind and snow, causing his chest to tremble for no reason.
His senior brother sent a disciple to summon him, claiming that he had found the source of the ghostly energy within the Qin Mirror and was attempting to suppress it with divine power.
Heng Qichun expended a great deal of spiritual energy, but the mirror was like a bottomless pit, absorbing all his energy, causing his blood and qi to reverse, and his meridians still ache.
On the way back, he simply sealed his spiritual power and returned through the snow with his mortal body. Even after brushing off the snowflakes, he still felt cold.
Heng Qichun suppressed the urge to cough, put two fingers together to release the sealed spiritual power, and let the uncontrolled spiritual energy circulate around his body.
He frowned, feeling a sudden shift in temperature.
Could he have caught a cold?
Lou Yan watched as Heng Qichun entered the bedroom. He peeked through the crack in the door for a while and saw that his master had actually lay down fully clothed and did not pay any attention to him at all.
He had said it himself: Heng Qichun, the God of the Eighteen Realms, was the most hypocritical. A plate of pastries couldn't appease him, so he simply stopped paying attention to him.
hateful……
Lou Yan's stomach rumbled, feeling as if he was about to starve to death in this temple. He stared at the barrier outside for a long time, and finally angrily lay down on the spot, supporting himself with his wolf paws.
You wait until I get out.
Lou Yan originally just wanted to lie down for a while, but when she woke up again it was almost evening.
The snowfall finally began to subside, leaving only several inches of snow piled up all over the mountain.
The sky remained overcast, showing no sign of clearing up.
Lou Yan covered his paws and lay on the ground, unconsciously sniffing, before being awakened by a fragrance.
He suddenly opened his eyes, jumped up from the ground with a "whoosh," and turned his head to look at the aroma. He saw Heng Qichun sitting next to the lotus platform, carefully roasting a wild rabbit with his spiritual power.
The rabbit was roasted until it was charred and reddish-brown, the oil sizzling in the firelight, and the aroma was so enticing it went straight to the top of one's head.
Lou Yan instinctively swallowed.
Heng Qichun continued what she was doing, only glancing at him with a slight lift of her eyelids, her tone seemingly laced with sarcasm, "Your stomach is growling so loudly, I thought it was thundering outside."
This means he was awakened by the wolf cub's belly.
Lou Yan's face flushed, and he ground his back teeth.
But the wolf cub had been hungry for a day and a night, and his great temper was dispelled by the aroma of roasted rabbit. He bit his lip tightly to prevent drool from flowing out, and then jumped to Heng Qichun's side.
They didn't say anything, just stared at each other longingly.
A storm brewed in the wolf's heart.
He had sworn a solemn oath that he would never speak to Heng Qichun on his own initiative, but if he didn't call him Master, would he still be able to get this rabbit?
Shouldn't I soften my stance in this situation?
After a long while, when the rabbit was almost burnt, Lou Yan finally lost his temper and let out a loud "Awooo" with his neck stiffened.
Heng Qichun flicked his finger, turning the perfectly roasted rabbit over, and raised an eyebrow, asking Lou Yan, "Want some?"
Lou Yan hummed in response.
This sound had no meaning; it neither said that he wanted to eat it nor that he didn't want to eat it.
Heng Qichun didn't have much time to mess around with the wolf cubs. He made a hand gesture to wipe the oil stains off his hands, rolled up his sleeves, and sat down on a futon.
The little wolf sat cross-legged next to him, holding the roasted rabbit in its front paws and gnawing on it. From his perspective, all he could see was the little cub's fluffy head, which looked like it was gnawing very hard.
Heng Qichun couldn't resist and, as if possessed, reached out to rub his head. But as soon as his fingertips touched a few loose hairs, Lou Yan shrugged and dodged away.
The little wolf's eyes gleamed with ferocity. As it tore at the rabbit leg in its mouth, it raised its head with a vicious expression and even bared its teeth at him.
Don't let me touch you.
It seems the little thing has no idea about the human world's principle of "being obligated to those who help you when you eat their food."
If you don't want me to touch you, then you don't want me to touch you.
Heng Qichun reached out and rubbed his still uncomfortable chest and lungs, and couldn't help but cough lightly. He looked at Lou Yan's head and said, "You won't eat persimmon cakes, but insist on eating rabbit. When did you become so picky?"
With the rabbit meat in hand, Lou Yan's mood improved considerably. As he wolfed down the rabbit leg, he squinted his eyes and let out a soft "Aww" at Heng Qichun.
Heng Qichun understood this sentence.
He said, "Master braved the heavy snow to catch the rabbit, so I can't let Master down."
Heng Qichun's expression changed, and his extremely pale face suddenly gained some color. He tried to deny it, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he couldn't help coughing.
Unable to suppress the sound, he arched his back and coughed violently, biting his lip with one hand.
His gauze robe swayed gently with his movements, and the rich fragrance of lotus wafted out from his sleeves once again.
Lou Yan stood there dumbfounded, biting a rabbit leg.
What happened?
Why is he coughing again?
He couldn't help but tilt his head and carefully observe Heng Qichun's reaction.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on his pale face, and his clear eyes were half-closed, his transparent pupils radiating a divine light, somewhat resembling the way he looked when he was injured in Huatan Town.
It looks like he's sick.
But can gods get sick?
As darkness fell, the entire Eighteen Realms returned to their usual quiet state, all noise buried under the thick snow outside. Even with the wolf's keen hearing, it couldn't detect any unusual sounds.
For a long time, only Heng Qichun's muffled coughs, still catching his breath, filled the Shenxiao Palace.
Lou Yan could feel his chest heaving violently, and the hand covering his lips tightened even more, as if he was trying his best to suppress the cough, as if he wanted to cough up his heart and lungs at the same time.
After a long while, he finally managed to stop the discomfort. When he got up, his face was even paler, and a faint weariness filled his eyes. He no longer had the strength to say anything.
He slowly got up, still habitually tidying his clothes, covering up the collar that had opened from coughing while bending over, and went straight into the house past Lou Yan.
Lou Yan heard him say, "After you finish eating, clean this place up so that your teacher doesn't see any leftovers."
He had been coughing for so long that his voice became unusually hoarse, like a snowflake that had finally turned into salt particles—clear and white, but not quite the same.
Lou Yan did not answer. Its sharp canine teeth were stuck in a piece of rabbit bone. The wolf sat there blankly, seemingly lost in thought.
The night, like a deep, long river leading to the underworld, suddenly thickened from the horizon, inch by inch enveloping the entire sacred mountain.
Only scattered snowflakes remained. The snow stretched endlessly, shimmering with a bluish-white halo in the pitch-black night.
Heng Qichun rarely left the light on before going to sleep; a single oil lamp cast a dim yellow glow, illuminating the thin figure on the bed.
She was even thinner than I had imagined. When she was fast asleep, she almost sank into the soft mattress. A blush floated on her pale face, and a thin layer of sweat soaked her forehead, making the few strands of silver hair on her forehead stick together wetly.
He slept soundly, occasionally letting out a muffled cough or two, which sounded particularly jarring in the quiet night.
Even with the thickest blankets covering him, he still felt unusually cold that night.
In a daze, I had a dream.
In his dream, everything was in chaos. The Nine Netherworld Realm led a group of demons to attack the immortal gates of the Eighteen Realms. His senior brother and his disciples fought desperately to defend them, and almost none of them survived.
He sat alone on the lotus platform in the Divine Firmament Palace, his body radiating spiritual energy, and countless lotus fragrances scattered and fled, just like the endless wood outside, howling towards death.
He couldn't understand why he had to disperse his cultivation, and he felt that his limbs and bones were immersed in a painful state that was hard to describe.
With a creak.
The door opened, and someone walked in.
The sunlight outside was too bright, and he couldn't see the person's face clearly for a moment. He only felt that the shadow against the light was somewhat familiar.
He endured the pain of his cultivation being completely destroyed and looked up, only to suddenly hear the other person calling him.
"Master."
Heng Qichun shuddered suddenly and opened his eyes in terror.
A warmth enveloped my arms.
A little wolf had somehow crawled into his blankets and was struggling to push its bald head into his arms.
"Awoo..."
It turned out he was calling for his master.
Heng Qichun felt icy cold all over his body, but the breath he exhaled from his mouth and nose was scorching hot, as if he were being burned by fire.
This is very likely what the younger disciples meant by "fever".
He coughed lightly, but his hands involuntarily pulled the wolf cub clinging to him upwards.
Lou Yan felt her body slip, and when she came to her senses, she found herself lying on top of Heng Qichun.
Its two front paws were firmly planted on the firmest flesh of Heng Qichun's chest, yet the ground felt surprisingly soft.
He couldn't resist stomping on it with his paws, alternating between left and right. Before Heng Qichun could react, he stretched out his neck and sniffed Heng Qichun's neck carefully.
The familiar scent of lotus filled my nostrils, accompanied by a scalding hot aroma.
It seems he guessed correctly.
Wolves are not impulsive animals; Lou Yan had given this matter of abandoning his bed with Shang Heng a lot of thought.
In the evening, he felt that Heng Qichun's condition was very wrong. He looked sickly and was obviously ill.
What if he gets even sicker if we let him sleep like that?
Recalling the look of unbearable pain on Heng Qichun's face when he jumped onto the bed, he felt even more strongly that his concern was necessary.
His head suddenly felt heavy as Heng Qichun's burning fingers actually rubbed his head.
Lou Yan immediately screamed and dodged away, "Ouch!"
What are you doing!
Heng Qichun was so ill that she was weak and listless. She smiled and asked him, "Are you afraid I'll die?"
"Aww!!"
Nonsense, if you die, who will help me transform into human form?
Heng Qichun was delirious with fever and didn't understand what Lou Yan was saying at all. He just unconsciously half-closed his eyes, with one hand still resting on the back of Lou Yan's head.
He murmured, "Little wolf..."
Lou Yan, mindful that he was sick, gently leaned against him, recalling how he might have reacted as a child, and responded softly.
"Awoo~"
Then he saw Heng Qichun smile.
It was a gentle smile he had never seen in both his lives combined; the pale corners of his lips moved slightly, and Lou Yan heard him call his name softly—
"puppy."
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