The rescue party

Was that real?

Did the wolves truly turn and flee?

It made no sense.

Everyone in Yunshan Province knew that wolves were relentless hunters—once they set their sights on prey, they never gave up. And yet, the moment he had picked up the box, the wolves had… retreated.

At first, he had thought they were simply waiting in ambush. He had stood there, gripping the box tightly, his heart pounding, waiting for them to lunge out from the shadows.

But they never returned.

Only the howling wind remained.

Even now, with the box safely concealed beneath the wood on his back, he still wasn’t sure if he had survived a miracle or stepped into a nightmare.

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Realizing he couldn’t afford to dwell on it, Yuntai retraced his steps hurriedly.

The night was already closing in, and he knew better than to be caught in the forest after dark.

Even if no wild beasts attacked him, the bitter cold alone could be his death sentence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he reached the spot where he had dropped his wood earlier. He quickly gathered the scattered logs and adjusted them carefully, using them to conceal the strange box.

Better not let anyone see it… at least not yet.

With one final glance at the darkening sky, he turned and began the familiar journey home.

The snow crunched beneath his boots as he trudged along the path, following a route he knew by instinct—one he had walked countless times before.

But just as the outline of his village came into view, his ears caught the distant sound of voices.

Faint but growing louder.

Then, through the snow-laden trees, he saw them—a group of about ten men, both young and old, some around his age and others much older, holding torches that flickered against the night’s embrace.

They were calling his name.

For a moment, Yuntai felt warmth spread through his chest—this time, not from the mysterious box, but from something far more familiar.

His people. His family. His home.

A tired but genuine smile crossed his lips as he finally stepped forward—out of the darkness and into the light.

Upon hearing the familiar voices of his people, Yuntai hurried forward, his exhausted body pushing through the snow.

As he drew closer, a familiar figure stood out among the torchlit crowd—a man whose presence was unmistakable.

Standing tall with a broad, sturdy frame, his weathered face was adorned with a neatly trimmed beard that made him look both scholarly and battle-worn. Though past his prime at forty-three, there was still a vigorous energy in his movements.

Yet, tonight, there was no warmth in his expression.

Gone was the usual cheerful smile his son was accustomed to. Instead, his face was etched with worry, his brows deeply furrowed.

This was Li Heng, Yuntai’s father.