Watching Wen Yan walk away, Lady Lie also hurried toward the place where Wen Yan had entered.
On the other side, Wen Yan had been carrying the Red Fox for nearly ten minutes when, under the dim moonlight, something flew in from midair.
"Wuu wuu... I just knew you couldn’t be dead..."
The Sparrow Cat cried as it flew over, pouncing straight into Wen Yan’s arms and bawling loudly.
Wen Yan had thrown Sparrow Cat high into the air, letting it avoid being swept away by the current. Sparrow Cat had been crying for quite some time, especially after seeing Lady Lie walk out from the pond while Wen Yan was nowhere to be found—it kept its distance from a far away spot.
It planned to wait at the entrance until it could leave, then go find help. As it was there, shedding tiny pearls as a cat would, a gust of wind brought Wen Yan’s scent to it at last.
Wen Yan carried the Red Fox in one hand, hugging Sparrow Cat with the other.
"Didn’t I tell you? Nothing would happen to me, but if you’d gotten pulled in, it might not have gone so well."
After venting its emotions, Sparrow Cat gradually calmed down and fell silent. It really had been scared—just when it thought it had finally found someone willing to split a bowl of rice, it thought it was going to lose that person all over again.
Only now did it suddenly realize that staying with Wen Yan was just so ordinary—eating together, basking in the sun with nothing to do, watching cartoons—but it was so comfortable, so reassuring.
This sense of security was what it had always wanted.
So, it wanted to be like that old dog, get a spot in the Scorching Sun Department, and live an easy, carefree life.
Honestly, it didn’t really care whether Wen Yan was actually human or not.
Sparrow Cat didn’t say anything, just let Wen Yan hold it with one arm.
Soon, as they reached the stony bank, Wen Yan set the Red Fox down and gently flicked it on the head.
"In a bit over ten minutes, the sun will rise. If you still don’t wake up, then get ready to be swept in again. Next time, you won’t be so lucky. Don’t come back anymore. Things here aren’t for you to get involved in."
After saying this, Wen Yan turned and left, with not even a hint of testing or hesitance.
Once Wen Yan was far away, the Red Fox’s slender eyes quietly opened a crack—the surroundings were already completely quiet.
The Red Fox flickered, quickly heading into the grass. It gazed toward the direction Wen Yan had gone, but couldn’t see anyone anymore.
It knew Wen Yan had realized long ago that it was awake—Wen Yan just hadn’t called it out.
Earlier, when it had been swept into the water, savage currents surged beneath the surface, nothing as simple as trying to drown it.
It had struggled as hard as it could, only to find itself lost underwater in the end, able only to prop up a bubble and drift off to sleep, floating with the current.
When Wen Yan was carrying it just now, it had already woken up, just didn’t dare move.
It didn’t understand why Wen Yan would save it, but one thing it was sure of—Wen Yan definitely wasn’t just like how she appeared on the surface.
That cat-headed bird cried so bitterly and was so worried about this Foreigner—it must be because this Foreigner treated it very well.
It could also see that the Little Zombie who always slept on his back was resting soundly, must really trust and feel safe with him too.
The Red Fox crouched in the grass for a while, counted the time, then raced toward the entrance through which it had come in.
The Red Fox itself hadn’t expected that Wen Yan scooped it up just out of habit—because when Wen Yan first came, the Red Fox had joked to break the ice, making the other demons stop talking, and the Lone Wolf held back and didn’t cause trouble on the spot.
Wen Yan didn’t know what Red Fox had been thinking back then, but from the result, that counted as saving Wen Yan.
This time around, Wen Yan didn’t care what the Red Fox was thinking, just saved the Red Fox in turn, as payback.
As for anything else, Wen Yan really hadn’t given it any thought.
Sometimes people can be complicated; sometimes they can be simple, too.
The Red Fox darted nimbly through the trees, quickly returning to where it had entered.
It made it in time, and, just a minute later, disappeared without a trace.
In the blink of an eye, the world around it shifted, and it was back inside a dense forest.
Just as it got back, it saw an Old Lady with a Fox Face, sitting beside a blazing fire, roasting a chicken.
"Back already, huh..."
"Grandma..." The Red Fox drooped its ears and called out cautiously.
"Did you forget what I told you last time?"
"You told me not to go there again..." the Red Fox replied softly.
In the next second, the Old Lady with a Fox Face, roasting chicken with one hand, swung her cane with the other and struck the Red Fox hard on its hind leg.
The Red Fox grunted, gritting its teeth to keep from yelling—it’s leg was broken.
"A broken leg’s better than losing your life."
The Old Lady with a Fox Face gently waved her hand, and a breeze rolled the roast chicken slowly over the edge of the fire.
She pulled out two wooden boards and some herbs, crushed them up, spread them on the Red Fox’s leg, and mended its bone back in place.
"When I was young, many young foxes like you, all full of curiosity, always thinking they could do something.
And yet, I’m the only one who’s lived to this age—they all died."
You have no idea how many foxes would envy you for only breaking your leg at home.
If you take one wrong step out there, you won’t even get the chance to regret it.
I said before, don’t get involved with that Soul Devouring Beast business, don’t go back there again.
I’ve seen too many ambitious types among the Different Races—I know exactly what they’re after.
They want to use the bones of demons like you to pave the road to their ambitions."
The Old Lady with a Fox Face, face full of kindly affection, nagged on—it was clear that only after breaking the Red Fox’s leg would these words really sink in.
Pain is what makes you remember.
The Old Lady with a Fox Face finished bandaging it up, broke off a drumstick, and stuffed it into the Red Fox’s mouth.
"Eat up. Remember, anyone who talks lofty nonsense about ’for all the Different Races,’ steer far, far away from them."
The Red Fox held back its pain and didn’t dare talk back—it had just experienced a true beating by society. If it hadn’t gotten rescued, it would already be dead.
It thought it wouldn’t drown—as long as it could last a dozen or so minutes, it could float up by itself.
But, in reality, things weren’t that simple.
It couldn’t even figure out what was going on under the water.
The Old Lady with a Fox Face looked at the Red Fox obediently gnawing on the drumstick, not talking back, as if it really took her words to heart. There was a gentle smile in her eyes, a look of relief.
Having been through it herself, she knew all too well when young foxes would finally start listening to these words.
Especially after the Red Fox learned how to use a smartphone—the amount of information, the things it could study, there were just too many, so of course it had its own ideas.
Now its leg was broken, but it didn’t cry or fight back, just accepted its punishment quietly.
For such a big change to happen, there could be only one reason.
It had finally tasted some real lessons from the outside world.