A single offhand remark plunged Rong Sui into a flood of long-forgotten memories. These past events, which he had dismissed as childhood fantasies, resurfaced in his mind piece by piece under Yin Zhuzhi’s reminder.

According to the villagers, he was originally an orphan who had been adopted by Rong Fu. Only then did the father and son relocate to the village. Back then, the Wulong Nature Reserve had not yet been developed. The land Rong Sui was standing on was not called Wulong Gorge, but Wulong Village.

Nestled in the embrace of surrounding mountains, Wulong Village suffered from poor transportation links with the outside world. Generation after generation, the villagers relied strictly on the mountains and rivers for sustenance, leading a far from affluent lifestyle.

The young Rong Fu had settled down in Wulong Village with a young child. Their early days were exceedingly harsh; even the house they occupied was an old, abandoned building generously lent to them by kind-hearted locals.

Of course, these details were only shared with Rong Sui after he grew up, either during casual chats with the villagers or with Rong Fu himself.

His own continuous memory only began around the age of three or four.

Isolated and impoverished, Wulong Village offered little to no entertainment. The village children loved running off into the mountains, forming groups to catch birds and rabbits, or picking wild mushrooms to bring home for soup.

Rong Sui had naturally joined them. However, because he did not have a mother, he was excluded by the older children. On one trip up the mountain, his companions played a malicious prank on him and abandoned him halfway up the trail. Unfamiliar with the path, he became utterly lost in the dense mountains. Even as darkness fell, he failed to find a way down.

After so many years, Rong Sui could no longer recall most of the details clearly, but he vividly remembered the profound fear and despair. Terrified to his core, he had wept and cried out for his father while searching for a path in the pitch-black woods.

Then, he encountered a tiger. The tiny Rong Sui harbored no understanding of its inherent danger, willingly allowing the massive tiger to pick him up by the scruff of his neck and place him onto its back.

The tiger’s fur was warm. Snuggled atop it, Rong Sui cried himself to sleep. When he awoke, he was already tucked into his own bed at home. When he told his father he had gotten lost and met a giant, gentle tiger that carried him back, Rong Fu merely chuckled, rubbed his head, and insisted that he had been the one to carry him home.

Consequently, Rong Sui genuinely believed it had been nothing more than a strange dream, gradually pushing the memory of that giant, gentle tiger to the back of his mind.

It was not until Yin Zhuzhi pointed it out that this distant memory was suddenly jarred loose.

In fact, over the past many years, strange occurrences had not been limited to just this one event. For instance, after he was brought back, the children who had led the bullying were dragged over by their parents to apologize. Those children had wept bitterly, admitting their mistakes and begging Rong Sui not to set the tiger on them to bite them again…

There were many other small mysteries like this. For one, even though their household was practically destitute, Rong Sui managed to eat meat at every single meal. Rong Fu was always able to bring back plenty of wild pheasants, rabbits, and even wild boars from the mountains. Thanks to this excellent nutrition, the once small and scrawny childhood Rong Sui had grown to a height of nearly 180 cm.

Furthermore, there was the man who had recently been dispatched to deliver his keys. The D Province where Rong Fu was located was a dozen hours’ drive away from W City, and even a flight would take over three hours. Yet, he had spoken to Rong Fu on the phone in the morning, and by the afternoon, someone had already delivered the keys. The time interval was less than four hours max, and… that man had even mentioned he flew over himself, so it didn’t cost a dime.

When examined closely, the entire situation was riddled with suspicious anomalies…

Rong Sui raised a hand to cover his face. These events defied all human logic… but if they were applied to yaoguai (demons/monsters), everything made perfect sense.

A wild, far-fetched idea gradually solidified in his mind. Rong Sui took a deep breath, and with a hesitant finger, pressed the dial button.

As usual, the call was picked up after just one ring. Rong Fu’s coarse, booming voice echoed from the receiver, “My dear son! What made you call out of the blue? Are you adjusting well to the new house?”

He was always like this. No matter how busy he was, the moment Rong Sui reached out, he would pick up without a second’s delay.

Although outsiders often remarked that Rong Fu looked like a hardened gangster with a terrible temper—looking as though he might pull out a steel pipe to start a brawl at any second—only Rong Sui knew that his father was, in truth, incredibly gentle. During his childhood, no matter how mischievous or troublesome Rong Sui was, his father never lost his temper. At most, he would scoop the boy into his arms, give him a thorough, playful squeeze, and warn him with a stern face that there wouldn’t be a next time.

Of course, Rong Sui had never actually been afraid of him.

On the other end of the line, Rong Fu was still rambling away like an overprotective mother, “I hired the absolute best designer for the layout. Is there anything about the decor you don’t like? If you’re unsatisfied, I’ll have them alter it immediately… My project here needs another two days of work. Once it’s wrapped up, I’ll be able to head back…”

Listening to the incessant maternal nagging, the corners of Rong Sui’s mouth slowly curled upward into an expression of quiet realization. The tight knot of tension suffocating his chest instantly dissolved. The furious interrogation he had prepared melted into a calm, casual tone. As if merely discussing the daily weather, he said to Rong Fu: “Dad, you’re not actually human, are you?”

The rambling on the other end came to a screeching, dead halt. Rong Sui could even detect the sound of heavy, rapid breathing filtering through the receiver.

Rong Fu pulled the phone away from his ear, desperately trying to steady his breathing. His son’s simple inquiry felt like a heavy, muffled bell tolling inside his skull, leaving his brain buzzing violently. It took him a good long while to regain his composure, offering a weak, hollow laugh. “You’ve really grown some feathers on your wings, haven’t you? How dare you curse your old man by calling him subhuman?”

Rong Sui lowered his gaze, his lips pressing into a thin line. He could easily visualize Rong Fu’s current expression. His old father was an honest soul at heart, terrible at fabricating lies; this guilty, defensive tone was the absolute best confirmation he could ask for.

“I know everything now,” he stated simply. “Focus on wrapping up the work at your construction site first. When you’re finished and come back, you can give me a proper explanation.”

Before Rong Fu could scramble to piece together a plausible excuse, his precious son had already hung up the phone.

“!!!” Rong Fu spun around in circles in sheer panic. How on earth did his son find out? Do you have any idea how exhausting it was to keep this under wraps for over twenty years?! How did he suddenly blow his cover!

Thrusting the phone back into his pocket, Rong Fu barked at his second-in-command, “You oversee the final cleanup here. I have an urgent matter at home and need to head out.”

Leaving his bewildered assistant with that hurried instruction, Rong Fu dashed toward the airport.

Rong Sui hung up the phone, feeling significantly lighter at heart. Returning to the room, he scooped up Yin Zhuzhi, who had been waiting patiently in his original spot, and headed downstairs. “Let’s go make some breakfast.”

Yin Zhuzhi narrowed his sharp eyes perceptively. “You figured out which powerful da-yao placed the protective mark on you?”

Rong Sui’s eyes crinkled into a smile as he gently stroked the little dragon’s horns, looking as triumphant as a cat that had successfully secured its prey. “Mm, I know now.”

By the time Rong Fu stepped off the plane, darkness had already blanketed the sky. As there were no immediate connecting flights available, he had wasted over three hours waiting around to board. It was only after disembarking that he suddenly realized a glaring oversight—he could have simply flown back using his own power! Why on earth did he waste those hours waiting around?

Smacking his own forehead in sheer frustration, he sought out an isolated, deserted area to conceal his form. With a swift snap of his wings, he shot directly toward the coordinates of Wulong Gorge.

The students and staff noticed that Teacher Rong was in an exceptionally wonderful mood today. Not only did he prepare a lavish breakfast spread, but after clearing the table, he happily stepped into the role of a tour guide, leading the entire group up the mountain for an excursion.

The marketing campaign for the Wulong Nature Reserve had been highly effective in recent years, successfully branding it as a pristine “natural oxygen bar.” It currently stood as a highly popular vacation destination, attracting a steady stream of tourists looking for leisure. Sporting a baseball cap and gently waving a small triangular flag, Rong Sui walked at the front of the line, periodically checking behind him to ensure no one fell behind. Efficient, reliable, and deeply reassuring, he embodied the perfect tour guide—and it certainly didn’t hurt that he was remarkably handsome.

After all, who wouldn’t want a charming, highly capable guide leading their tour?

Tourists from other groups even approached him to strike up a conversation, inquiring which agency he worked for and requesting his WeChat details so they could book him for future travels.

Rong Sui could only offer an awkward smile, explaining that he was actually a schoolteacher leading his own students on a trip. The hopeful tourists could only drop the matter with deep regret.

Yin Zhuzhi walked right beside him, his face tilted slightly upward to catch the moist, refreshing mountain air, looking thoroughly content. “The spiritual energy in the mountains is indeed vastly more concentrated than within human cities.”

Rong Sui smiled, gently ruffling the boy’s hair. Yin Zhuzhi’s hair had been cut short; without the long tresses obscuring his face, his exquisite facial features were fully on display, offering a clear glimpse of the striking beauty he would possess once fully grown.

Wulong Mountain had not undergone significant structural changes compared to Rong Sui’s childhood. Even though it had been developed into a commercial tourist zone, its ecological environment remained beautifully preserved. retracing the paths etched deep in his memory, Rong Sui guided them across the scenic landscape, only heading back home once night began to fall.

When Rong Fu finally rushed into the house, the place was entirely empty. He paced anxiously through the rooms a few times, debating whether to head out to look for them, but ultimately decided it was wiser to wait inside for his son’s return.

He took a moment to deliberately dishevel his hair and vigorously rumpled his neatly pressed clothing, painstakingly crafting the appearance of absolute exhaustion.

Sitting quietly in the pitch-black, unlit living room, Rong Fu thought to himself with a smug sense of satisfaction: I’ll play the pity card first. Once my precious boy sees how exhausted I am, his heart will surely soften, and he won’t be able to stay angry at me.

After spending an entire day exploring the outdoors, both the adults and children were completely drained. Having finished their dinner outside, the moment they crossed the threshold into the courtyard, the little cubs instantly reverted to their original beast forms and scurried eagerly toward the house—since they were already so well-acquainted, there was no longer any need to maintain their rigid human disguises.

Yin Zhuzhi likewise transformed back into a tiny dragon cub, crouching faithfully at Rong Sui’s feet. For yaoguai born of heaven and earth who were accustomed to absolute freedom, their original forms provided the maximum level of comfort.

Glancing down at the chubby little dragon looking up at him, the corner of Rong Sui’s mouth curved into a warm smile. He leaned down to scoop him up; the little dragon’s scales felt cool and smooth against his skin, making him exceptionally comfortable to hold in this warm weather.

Following closely behind Long Ya, Wen Tun was scurrying toward the house when he witnessed the scene. His forward steps came to a sudden halt. After a moment of hesitation, he turned right back around, trotting over to Rong Sui’s side. He plopped his entire beast body directly across the top of Rong Sui’s feet, letting his tongue loll out as he wagged his tail enthusiastically.

He wanted a hug too.

In ancient legends, the Chaos beast Hundun was described as possessing four wings and six legs, with a round, crimson body resembling a giant dog. However, the Hundun currently resting across Rong Sui’s feet was merely a tiny, pale-red beast equipped with wings.

His long, thick fur completely obscured his eyes, his frame was delightfully plump, and his four fleshy little wings were buried deep within his fluffy coat. At first glance, he looked exactly like a dyed Old English Sheepdog puppy.

Wen Tun kept twitching his nose, rubbing affectionately against Rong Sui’s leg as he begged for a lift, occasionally letting out a soft, high-pitched, puppy-like “Woof-hoo.”

Cradled in Rong Sui’s arms, Yin Zhuzhi cast a haughty, downward glare at the beast, muttering in clear displeasure, “Hundun has truly regressed with age. How is acting like a human’s lapdog any different from complete degradation?!”

“Wen Tun is still very young,” Rong Sui countered gently, scooping Wen Tun up into his other arm as well. He affectionately kneaded the soft, downy fur, adding with a warm chuckle, “Besides, looking like this makes him incredibly adorable.”

Having successfully secured a spot in his arms, Wen Tun happily licked the youth’s hand, extending his neck to rub enthusiastically against his chest.

Yin Zhuzhi curled his tail inward with an expression of deep disdain, letting out a cold, detached huff at the display.

Inside the dark house, hearing the approach of footsteps and laughter from the courtyard, Rong Fu quickly scrambled back onto the sofa. He leaned his upper body backward, draping himself awkwardly over the armrest to simulate the image of someone who had drifted off to sleep from sheer, bone-deep exhaustion.

_

The Author Has Something to Say:

The old father happily faking sleep: “I work so hard to bring home the bacon, my precious boy will definitely not have the heart to be mean to me.”

The sharp-eyed Teacher Rong: “Heh.”