Chapter 4 — I'll Make the Wolf King Pay in This Life

Le Hanh stood outside the doorway, looking down at her from a position of absolute superiority. His eyes were a pale, metallic gold with slit pupils—a shade identical to An Cuu Uyen’s, yet the aura they projected was entirely different. Where An Cuu Uyen’s gaze felt languid and ancient, Le Hanh’s was filled with a raw, predatory hunger.

"Tri Loc Minh."

He called her name for the third time.

"Do we know each other?" Tri Loc Minh leaned against the doorframe, her tone unnervingly calm. Le Hanh tilted his head.

"In your past life, you kept me for three years."

Tri Loc Minh’s heart skipped a beat. Was he reborn as well?

"Did you think you were the only one who could turn back time?"

Le Hanh’s lips curled, but the smile held no warmth. "Where is the snake?"

Tri Loc Minh did not move. "Which snake?"

Le Hanh’s nostrils flared slightly. "It is on you. I can smell it."

He took a step forward. Tri Loc Minh stood her ground, meeting his gaze directly. "Le Hanh, in this life, you no longer belong to me."

Le Hanh faltered. A flicker of complex emotion crossed his golden eyes, only to vanish as quickly as it had appeared.

"I never belonged to you," he stated. "Even in the last life."

"True," Tri Loc Minh nodded. "Which is why, in this life, we should leave each other in peace. The snake was something I bought for one yuan. It was a legal transaction, and I have the receipt to prove it."

"It is not a pet," Le Hanh’s voice dropped to a low, dangerous register. "It is a fragment of the God of Ten Thousand Beasts. You are merely human; keeping it will only lead to your death."

"Whether I live or die is none of your concern."

Le Hanh fell silent, staring at her for a long, heavy moment. Beneath her hoodie, An Cuu Uyen’s body went rigid as a pulled wire. Finally, Le Hanh stepped back.

"Three days," he said. "In three days, I will return. If you have not surrendered it by then, I will take it by force."

He turned on his heel and walked away. His footsteps echoed down the hallway, fading into the distance. Tri Loc Minh slammed the door and threw the bolt. She leaned her back against the wood, letting out a long, ragged breath. Inside her hoodie, the snake’s tail uncoiled from the drawstring and patted her nape—a cold, fleeting touch, almost like an act of comfort.

"Are you not afraid of him?" the snake asked.

Tri Loc Minh thought for a moment. "I am."

"Then why did you not hand this deity over to him?"

Tri Loc Minh pulled the serpent from her hoodie and placed it in her palm. The black snake, no thicker than a thumb, curled in her hand, its tail wrapping instinctively around her finger.

"Because items bought for one yuan are non-refundable."

The snake fell silent, burying its head between her fingers. "Stupid human," it muttered, its voice sullen. "But... this deity will grudgingly admit... I do not dislike you."

That night, Tri Loc Minh did not sleep. She sat on the windowsill, hugging her knees as she plotted her strategy. Le Hanh had given her three days. In her past life, once Le Hanh had manifested his true form, his combat prowess was on par with an entire elite tactical squad. She was an ordinary person; she couldn't withstand that. And with An Cuu Uyen’s current recovery at a mere 0.3 percent, he couldn't either. She had to run. No, running was useless; Le Hanh’s sense of smell could track the aura of any beast within a hundred-mile radius. She had to hide better—or, she had to become stronger.

"An Cuu Uyen."

"Hm?" The snake was draped over the desk lamp, drifting between sleep and consciousness.

"You said you need rare treasures to recover. If I provide you with high-purity ore, how much can you recover in three days?"

The snake mused, "If the purity is high enough... perhaps five percent?"

"Is five percent enough to defeat him?"

"No." The answer was swift and absolute.

"What percentage is required to win?"

"At least thirty percent."

Tri Loc Minh did the math. At this rate, she would have to feed it ore for over half a year. Three days was nowhere near enough. "Is there any other way to accelerate the process?"

An Cuu Uyen hesitated for a long moment. "There is a way. But this deity does not recommend it."

"Tell me."

"A contract. A blood-bond between a human and the God of Ten Thousand Beasts. Once sealed, your life force will continuously flow into me, accelerating my recovery."

"And the cost?"

"Your lifespan will be forfeit. For every one percent I recover, you lose one year of life."

Tri Loc Minh calculated quickly. To reach thirty percent would cost her thirty years. She was twenty-four. Even after that, she would likely live for another three or four decades.

"Acceptable."

"You—" An Cuu Uyen’s voice suddenly climbed in pitch. "Human, have you lost your mind? Do you realize what thirty years means?"

"It means I won't live to retirement age," Tri Loc Minh shrugged. "But in my past life, I was only twenty-six when someone pushed me off a roof. Living an extra thirty or forty years is already a massive profit."

The snake’s body stiffened, and he was silent for a long time. "...This deity will not let you lose thirty years of life. I will find another way to recover. I do not need your life."

Tri Loc Minh looked at him. "Can you find a way within three days?"

An Cuu Uyen did not answer, for he could not.

"Let’s compromise," Tri Loc Minh said. "We sign the contract, but I only transfer enough for five percent. Trading five years of life for three days of safety—that is worth it. Once I can source more ore, we will rely on that and terminate the contract. Is that acceptable?"

The snake stared at her for a long time. "Five percent will not be enough to beat him."

"I don't need to beat him," Tri Loc Minh stood up. "I only need you to be strong enough to help me escape in a crisis."

An Cuu Uyen’s tail tightened around the base of the lamp. "...At five percent, I can teleport for two hundred meters. Once. But I will need at least six hours of rest afterward."

"That is enough."

"Tri Loc Minh." The snake’s voice became solemn. "You are trading your life for a thirty-centimeter snake. Is it worth it?"

"I bought you for one yuan," Tri Loc Minh reached out her palm. "Adding five years of life brings the total investment cost up, but it’s still reasonable. Besides, you are the God of Ten Thousand Beasts. The return on this investment will surely be substantial." She smiled.

An Cuu Uyen stared at her palm. It had been thirty thousand years. He had encountered countless beings who wanted to exploit him, power-seekers who wanted to consume him, and enemies who wanted to seal him away. Never had anyone invested in him with a one-yuan coin and five years of their life—and smiled so gently while doing it. He loosened his tail from the lamp and slithered onto her hand.

"Seal it."

The cold body of the snake pressed against her palm. A sharp, stinging pain radiated from her hand through her entire body. It felt as though something was being drawn out of her—a faint, delicate strand of life force flowing into the black serpent. An Cuu Uyen’s scales began to glow. It wasn't a reflection of external light, but a deep, golden radiance emanating from within. The process lasted ten seconds. When the light faded, Tri Loc Minh felt a brief wave of dizziness that vanished as quickly as it came.

She looked down at her palm. An Cuu Uyen had changed. He had grown from the thickness of a thumb to the width of two fingers, and his length had increased from thirty centimeters to nearly half a meter. His scales were no longer dull but a deep, abyssal black, with faint golden veins tracing the edges of each scale.

He lifted his head. "Five percent."

His voice had changed, too. It was no longer the grating sound of sandpaper on metal, but a low, resonant timbre, like the vibration of a cello string.

"How do you feel?" Tri Loc Minh asked.

An Cuu Uyen closed his eyes, then opened them. "This deity can now speak human language without gasping for breath."

"...You used to gasp for breath?"

"Previously, every sentence consumed my spiritual energy." He coiled up, his posture far more graceful than before. "At the very least, I no longer have to worry about fainting in the middle of a conversation."

"Try teleporting."

"Right now?"

"Yes. Teleport to the door and back."

An Cuu Uyen looked toward the door—about five meters away. His body began to shimmer with light.