Chapter 2 — Giao Giao’s Covenant

I looked toward Feng Dian, whose tail was twitching stealthily behind him, betraying a sense of nervous anticipation. Then, I turned my gaze to A Lan, who was softly tracing ripples into the surface of the pool.

“...I do like them.”

As I spoke, Feng Dian’s tail began to wag with the frantic speed of a spinning windmill. A Lan stopped his movements, the water smoothing out into a mirror-like stillness, though his deep, oceanic eyes suddenly ignited with a brilliant light. My sister nodded in satisfaction.

“That is good then. From now on, they will stay here. Feng Dian will be responsible for accompanying and protecting you, while A Lan will handle the night watch and… well, Merfolk are versatile and capable of managing anything.”

Feng Dian immediately interjected, “Master, have no fear! I am capable of everything as well! I can hunt, and I am excellent at warming the bed!”

“The bed-warming won't be necessary.”

“Oh.”

Steam practically hissed from his ears. That evening, as my sister prepared to depart, she paused to look back at me one last time.

“Jiao Jiao,” her tone turned uncharacteristically solemn. “In your previous life, you endured so much suffering. In this one, I will not allow anyone to make you cry ever again.”

She shot a glance toward the distant bedroom belonging to Yun Ci, her eyes turning glacial for a brief, fleeting moment.

“No beast-man, not a single one, shall ever cause you pain.”

Before I could find the words to reply, she smiled, waved, and dissolved into the shroud of the night.

3

Yun Ci had not been home for three days. He claimed the tribe was busy organizing winter patrol routes and that he was swamped with duties. The first day he said he wouldn't be back for dinner; the second day he claimed to be stuck in meetings; by the third day, he only sent a single text. I sat by the doorway, watching as Feng Dian stoked the fire to roast meat in the courtyard, while A Lan organized a pile of luminous seashells by the lake. My sister had only delivered them three days ago, yet I had already grown accustomed to the life of having companions to talk to, and others who vied for the chance to handle the household chores. Feng Dian handed me a perfectly roasted rabbit leg, his tail swishing rhythmically.

“Master! The first bite is yours! I specifically brushed it with an extra layer of honey!”

I took it and bit down; it was succulent and fragrant.

“Is it good? Is it good?”

Feng Dian leaned in close, his amber eyes sparkling with hope.

“It’s delicious.”

“Then I shall roast another for you tomorrow!”

A Lan surfaced from the pool, silently placing a peeled grape into my hand. He said nothing, but his deep blue eyes lingered on me for a second before he looked back down. Just then, my phone began to vibrate violently. I paused and pressed it to my ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was Yun Ci’s, carrying the same cold, distant detachment as always.

“Jiao Jiao, the tribe’s affairs are not yet settled. The patrol routes need to be replanned. It will likely take another two or three days.”

I remained silent.

“Are you listening?”

His voice was icy. Just as I opened my mouth to respond, Feng Dian’s boisterous voice cut through the air: “Master! The rabbit leg is getting cold! Please, eat it quickly!” Before I could cover the receiver, A Lan spoke up as well. His voice was deep and calm, yet in the quiet night, it resonated with crystal clarity: “...The soup is ready, too. I added new medicinal herbs today; it is very good for your health.”

The line fell into an immediate, heavy silence. And then:

*Click.*

Yun Ci hung up. I stared at the phone in my hand, feeling no panic at all—only a strange, creeping sense of peace. Feng Dian leaned in, curious. “Master, who was calling?”

“No one of any consequence.”

I replied. I continued to eat the rabbit leg, but by the third bite, a flurry of rapid, thundering footsteps echoed from the distance.

4

These were not the footsteps of a leisurely stroll, but the high-speed sprint of the Leopard tribe: silent, agile, and moving across the ground like a bolt of lightning. Feng Dian’s nose twitched, and his fur stood on end. “That scent… it’s that leopard!” The footsteps stopped abruptly at the gate. Yun Ci stood under the moonlight. His entire body was drenched in sweat, his silver-gray hair disheveled by the wind, his chest heaving with exertion. The distance from the northern edge of the territory to this house usually took an hour; he had covered it in less than ten minutes. His gaze swept over me first, then scanned the bonfire, the roasting rack, and the meat in the courtyard, before finally pinning itself onto Feng Dian. Feng Dian was still squatting beside me, one hand resting on my shoulder. Yun Ci’s pupils narrowed into thin, dangerous slits.

“Who is he?”

His voice was a low rasp, as if squeezed from the very depths of his throat. Feng Dian did not pull his hand away; instead, he leaned closer, his chin nearly resting on my shoulder.

“I am the master’s companion. And who might you be?”

Yun Ci’s claws unsheathed, glinting with a cold, lethal light under the moon.

“I am asking you,” he articulated each word with agonizing precision, “who is he?”

I looked at him, feeling an immense sense of tranquility. In the past, he had never reacted this way when I spoke a few words to another male—he hadn't cared at all. Why, then, was he so furious now?

“A companion sent by my sister,” I said. “This is Feng Dian, of the Wolf tribe, and down in the lake is A Lan, a Merfolk.”

Yun Ci’s eyes snapped toward the pool. A Lan rose until half of his exquisite face was above the water, his deep blue eyes meeting Yun Ci’s with a calm, unwavering gaze—neither dodging nor provoking. He simply watched him, still and silent.