This damn forest has not a single kid—only wild beasts pouring like snow-fed rivers.

A pack of white wolves chased Linyue Yao through snow‑quiet pines, while she hauled a huge white log on her back.

Not because she couldn’t beat them, but because it’s winter and the forest sleeps in a glass hush; a fight would ring like iron on ice.

She’d stirred up trouble here before and even drew a beast king from its den.

It warned her flatly: wake me again in winter, and next time won’t be so simple.

Soon the cliff hemmed her in, nowhere to retreat.

“Tch, what a pain. You think I’m a sick cat because I’ve kept quiet? Watch this—Leap of Faith!”

“Hahaha, bunch of white mutts, come chase me if you dare! Nyeh~”

She could glide, wind cupping her like a paper kite; even if they had ranged bites, they couldn’t touch her.

At the cliff’s lip, the wolves got her drift; they trembled on the spot and howled, frost tearing their throats, yet could do nothing.

She was the bandit who kept ripping off their “door,” and they were at their limit.

Every few months she stole a tree, shameless as a roadside brigand beneath snow.

At last, a hot‑blooded one‑eyed male wolf launched itself at her, a white blur against the cliff.

Under its pack’s admiring stares, its claws reached for the white log strapped to her back, not for her.

Even dying, it wouldn’t let this human female tear down their threshold.

Like hell she’d give it that chance. She hugged the log and swept it sideways, the arc carving snow, clubbing the one‑eyed wolf back toward the ledge.

“Crawl off, mutt.”

Her white log smacked it cleanly, but didn’t knock it free.

The one‑eyed wolf wrapped all four limbs around the log in a very human way, clinging in midair like ivy on stone.

Its silly wolf face even twisted into a mocking grin, then it sank its teeth into the grain.

“Hey—let go, you jerk! If you chew the wood, I can’t sell it!”

Heart aching, Linyue Yao whipped the log to fling it free, but the wolf clung like it had sprouted from the wood.

Let go, and it would plunge into the white void.

Because she kept swinging, her balance slipped, ice tilting under her feet.

Dread spiked. “I’m going to fall…”

“Aaaaaah!”

She screamed like doom, but… she probably wasn’t going to die from a fall.

Sure enough, woman, wolf, and log dropped hundreds of meters, snapping branches on the way, and both lived, snow dusting their hair.

Except…

“My… Snow Maple… my Snow Maple… shattered, all of it… there goes next month’s food money.”

She perched in a bird‑sit beside the splinters, voice thin as winter light.

The shine drained from her eyes, like frost dimming stars.

“Mangy mutt!! I’ll fight you to the end!!!”

“Awooo!”

The one‑eyed wolf didn’t back down; it lunged and crashed into her, limbs and snow knotting into a brawl.

A woman and a wolf tangled together, both fighting dirty, both brutal, snow flying like shreds of paper.

Fueled by fury, Linyue Yao held her own against a mutant white wolf not even Tier Seven.

“Take this! Peerless Tempest!”

“Awooo!”

With sharp footwork, the one‑eyed wolf slipped past her killing move, shadow‑quick.

A massive shockwave burst behind it, billowing white mist like torn silk.

“Cough, cough… this little whelp can really run…”

“Wait… what’s that?”

She ignored the wolf’s smirk and looked toward where she’d struck.

A blue‑haired little girl—who shouldn’t be here at all—sat on the snow, calmly licking honey, quiet as a sparrow at dawn.

Her clothes were simple and torn, like a big rag wrapped around her.

Her big deep‑yellow shoes were patched all over, yet they fit her like home.

“You’ve got to be kidding…”

Suddenly, a giant eye opened behind her, a black pupil veined with blood, like night cracking.

“Uh… we’re screwed. That’s…”

The one‑eyed wolf’s swagger snapped; its haunches trembled, and it spun to bolt like a startled deer.

It did bolt—until Linyue Yao casually snagged its tail, fingers biting like iron.

“Don’t even think about running.”

She gave it a disdainful look; cocky in a fight, craven now, its courage melting like frost.

“Awooo awooo! If you’re courting death, don’t drag me with you!”

“You howl all day; how am I supposed to know what you’re saying? No sneaking off.”

“Awoo! Let me go!”

The blue‑haired girl tilted her head at Linyue Yao, puzzled, then bent back to her honey like a small bird pecking nectar.

“Little dummy, run!”

She lunged to scoop the girl up, but it was too late; time slammed shut like a gate.

With a quake like thunder under ice, one of the forest’s beast kings woke—the White‑Snow Demon Bear King.

Its head alone was a mountain; that giant eye behind the girl had been its left eye.

As the huge head shifted, the girl holding honey rolled off to the ground, honey glinting like amber.

Linyue Yao and the one‑eyed wolf were blasted away by the bear king’s wake‑roar, breath like a storm wall.

The land quaked like an earthquake; with that terrible bellow, a sky‑blocking shadow loomed before Linyue.

Awake, the White‑Snow Demon Bear King glared at the culprit who woke it: Linyue Yao, ice grinding in its gaze.

“Human! I’ve warned you many times—don’t disturb my sleep when I hibernate.

You ignored me again and again; today you’ll pay the price. ROAR!”

“Easy, easy, Your Majesty Bear King, I was forced this time…”

She flattered while throwing frantic looks at the blue‑haired girl, eyes fluttering like restless sparrows.

The girl on the ground was smeared in honey from her hive; she licked her small hands, ignoring Linyue entirely.

That sight spiked Linyue Yao’s blood pressure—in every sense, steam almost rising in winter air.

“‘Forced?’ When were you not ‘forced?’ You used that trick over and over—do you take me for a three‑year‑old?”

Her heart twisted: Come here, come here!

She wanted to sprint, scoop the girl up, and run a hundred meters, feet like arrows.

But the girl sat by the bear king, and Linyue wasn’t sure she could snatch her under that mountain gaze.

The bear king felt provoked; she could still spare winks at the air while talking to it, insolence sharp as a thorn.

It drew breath to roar, then noticed the woman’s expression had changed.

Her eyes now were a hunter’s—prey almost in hand—and she held a bag of little dried fish, small silver slivers.

The bear king followed her gaze to its feet.

A small blue thing hugged the honey and toddled toward the woman, like a duckling waddling through snow.

Suddenly the bear king thought of a fun trick; its great bear face twitched, and it raised a paw to swat the little one, shadow falling like slate.

Seeing that paw sweep for the little one, Linyue Yao’s heart almost stopped, a drum gone silent.

She braced to fight the bear king to the death, teeth set like steel.

But it toyed with her; the massive paw missed the girl’s body… and pinned her long hair where it fanned behind her like spilled silk.

Hair pinned, the little one toppled in place.

Honey smeared her again as she hugged the hive, sticky amber across patched cloth.

She lay there, clutching sweetness, and looked up with ice‑blue eyes at the taunting bear face.

Seeing the little one’s true face, the bear king’s mockery collapsed into terror, like a glacier cracking.

Its paw shot off her hair to brace behind; the whole giant creature scrabbled back like it had met its nemesis.

It even babbled in roars nobody could understand, tongue thick with fear.

It came to, spun, and fled, like it had seen a plague god in the snow.

But… could it really run?

The little one rolled and sat up, movement neat as a cat.

She set down the heavy hive that needed two hands, honey sighing.

A long sword bloomed into her right hand from thin air, cold light like moonsteel.

She flicked her wrist; a blade of qi cut toward the fleeing bear king, a crescent slicing the wind.

Its cry of pain rang through the forest, and a bear paw the size of a mountain thudded to the ground, snow geysering.

But it didn’t care—what matters more, a paw or a life?

A paw can regrow; a life, once lost, never returns!