Little Wolf Moon’s Troubles

Three months had passed, and the little wolf, no longer the fluffy cub with unmolted fur, had transformed after consuming the Ice Soul Divine Grass.

It now bore the imposing form of a young adult wolf. Not yet as massive as a wolf king, its build was medium and balanced, with long, slender limbs that combined agility and strength.

Its body was covered in sleek, silvery fur that gleamed like moonlight, except for the creamy white short fur on its underbelly and inner limbs. Its head, back, legs, and tail shimmered with ethereal beauty.

Though not fully grown, it already hinted at the majestic beast god it would become.

Yet, despite its transformation, it was troubled.

This wolf, beast name “Awoo Awoo Awoo,” human name Moon, daughter of the wolf king, future ruler of the mountain peaks, and a formidable contender for dominance, had failed to recognize its only human friend and accidentally injured her with two paws.

It wasn’t entirely its fault. Moon relied more on its nose than its eyes to recognize scents. But after just three months, its human friend reeked of a foolish dog’s odor.

In its haste, it hadn’t distinguished her scent.

Su Qing sat up, expertly realigning her ribs with a few taps, spitting out blood.

*Cough, cough, cough.* No big deal—just a minor injury. She’d heal it quickly. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Sitting cross-legged, Su Qing activated her Clear Heart Technique, her body surging with energy.

The herb field’s dense wood spiritual energy, manifesting as greenish-yellow light, flowed through her meridians, swiftly mending her broken tissues.

As she quietly cultivated, Little Wolf Moon, embarrassed, stared with round eyes, tail tucked, nudging its other friend.

“Awoo, awoo, awoo!” *Think of something, quick!*

“Ying, ying, ying.” *Fine, I got it.*

The little rabbit, rubbing its red ears, hopped back to the field with a strong kick, uprooted three stalks of Mugwort Qi Grass, and piled them before Su Qing.

Got it! Moon’s eyes lit up, poking Su Qing with a paw, speaking in human tongue, “Eat these. Little Rabbit says they’re good for your injuries.”

Su Qing, having stabilized her condition, opened her eyes helplessly. “Thanks, but I can’t. The field’s already missing herbs. If they find traces in me, they’ll think I stole them.”

Looking into Moon’s eyes with concern, she said, “What about you two? Why cross the barrier to eat Sword Sect’s herbs? If the teachers or students catch you, you’ll be in trouble.”

Moon, knowing it caused trouble, felt guilty but stood firm. It had a valid reason. Sitting beside Su Qing, tail draped over her crossed legs, tapping lightly, it huffed, “We don’t want to come to stinky human territory! Someone stole Little Rabbit’s companion spirit herb. Without it, she can’t transform and still can’t speak human words!”

Without its companion herb, Little Rabbit was stuck at peak Tier 2, unable to advance.

With spiritual energy clogging and swelling, her underbelly turning purple, she risked death without a breakthrough.

Boldly, Moon sneaked past its mother, entering Sword Sect’s fields to find substitute herbs for Little Rabbit.

Mugwort Qi Grass was one such herb.

As they spoke, the snow-white rabbit, with its three-lobed mouth, gobbled the three stalks before Su Qing.

Seeing it about to chomp more, Moon yanked the herbs from its mouth, scolding, “No more! This is my friend’s field. We’ll eat someone else’s later, okay? Besides, eating too much will make your body collapse—you shouldn’t overdo it!” @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Su Qing shed a nonexistent tear for Moon’s rough concern.

It cared, but not much.

And a wolf befriending a rabbit? Truly, only spirit beasts could pull that off.

Su Qing didn’t doubt Moon’s story but was curious. “The stewards strictly forbid disciples from entering the back mountain. Who’s bold enough to steal?”

Moon growled, “No idea. The back mountain’s been restless lately. Many near-mature herbs are stolen, and spirit beasts are harassed. Everyone’s furious!”

Su Qing said, “Catch them, and show them some color!”

Moon tilted its head. “Of course! If I catch them, one claw per thief—torn to shreds!”

“Forget that for now.” Moon, still hung up on another issue, leaned close, indignant. “You haven’t explained why you smell like dog! Did you get one? What kind? How long? Dogs are dumb, drooly, and fawning. They look like wolves but lack our dignity. Not cool at all!”

After a thorough dog-bashing, it proudly declared, “Wolves are better—strong, beautiful, smart, loyal. Wolves are true friends!”

“It’s not my dog. It has its own free will,” Su Qing explained patiently. “It’s a classmate from my literacy class.”

Moon blinked. “Human words—humans learn them one by one? Shouldn’t you be born with them?”

Su Qing sighed, disappointed. “Humans…”

Moon wagged its head. “So troublesome. I’ve been learning words too.”

It met Little Rabbit at the back mountain’s literacy gathering.

Luckier than its mother, Moon was born when the wolf clan’s sacred Ice Soul Divine Grass was ripening. Consuming it gave Moon greater cultivation potential, likely enabling human transformation.

Humans lacked innate claws and fangs but had unmatched affinity for spiritual energy. Transforming and cultivating in human territories was a common path for powerful spirit beasts.

Thus, promising back mountain beasts attended literacy gatherings. Many weren’t there for human culture but to linger near Earth Mother for her potent spiritual energy.

Moon was different. It studied earnestly, knowing Earth Mother favored humans as much as beasts—why else give half the mountains for Sword Sect? To surpass its mother and gain more influence, learning human culture was essential.

Earth Mother’s grass spirit studied at Sword Sect, didn’t it? Moon would too.

Proud of its foresight, Moon thought: *Unlike those dim beasts, I’m a smart wolf king!*

It kept back mountain secrets from Su Qing—not from distrust, but to avoid trouble. After some chit-chat, it asked about literacy, and Su Qing, surprised she knew the answers, realized she was better at academic lessons than physical ones.

Switching to a “sports” path was daunting.

Picking up a twig, she scribbled on the ground. “This character’s strokes are too many, hard to remember. I mix them up. But imagining it as a story helps.”

“That’s it! Got it.” Moon nodded eagerly. Reluctant but duty-bound, it had to find more herbs for Little Rabbit.

“I’m off. Next time, tell me about God Wolf Aotian’s story!”

Su Qing agreed, cautioning, “Be careful. If anything’s off, leave immediately, okay?”

“Hey, I’m Foundation Establishment!” Moon boasted, leaping. “With wind, I travel miles a day. With moonlight, I move like a shadow. Sunlight doesn’t burn me; the moon’s my guardian. I’m strong!”

Grinning, it promised, “When you’re stronger, I’ll take you to the back mountain. Cultivate hard, or you’ll be a granny who can’t climb!”

…

After seeing Moon and Little Rabbit off, Su Qing gathered the cleared weeds and reported to the herb field steward.

He didn’t hassle her, asking a few questions before marking her task complete.

“Anything unusual?”

“Nothing. All normal.”

Su Qing stayed calm. Moon and Little Rabbit didn’t just target her field, so any investigation wouldn’t point to her.

The steward credited her twelve task points. As she thanked him and turned to leave, he called her back.

Her heart skipped.

But he wasn’t blaming her. Pointing to baskets at the entrance, he said, “Mountain loquats, sweet plums, and red berries are ripe. No one picks them—they fall and stick to shoes. Take some back.”

Since they lacked spiritual energy, few coveted them, and baskets brimmed. The steward let passing students and workers take some.

The baskets were nearly empty, but the remaining fruits were fresh. Su Qing took a good amount.

Trekking down and up to the main peak, her shoes felt thinner. If she kept taking tasks for points, walking wouldn’t cut it. Once her sword was ready, she’d master sword flight.

The dorm was empty. Su Qing washed the fruits, dividing them into three portions on each desk.

Month-end meant discounts at the second cafeteria’s supply shop, with an extra 10% off for two. Guessing Tianning was back from sword-flying, Su Qing messaged her.

Tianning was at the courier station. Su Qing met her at the entrance, and they hit the shop for a spree—more like two penny-pinchers pooling deals.

The supply shop was huge, a street under one roof, like a supermarket. Bamboo carts mimicked shopping carts for browsing.

Su Qing picked up a wooden toothbrush from their cart. “Didn’t you buy one last time? Broken already?”

“I did,” Tianning said flatly, with a hint of fervor. “But it’s on sale.”

Su Qing eyed another item. “This sweat towel—you bought one already.”

“Yes, but it’s on sale.”

“These purple bamboo brushes? You’ve got thirty.”

“On sale.”

“This big jar of tooth powder?”

“On sale.”

A bargain bonanza. Su Qing caught items Tianning tossed in. “What, sword-polishing balm and tassels on sale too?”

“Those aren’t,” Tianning said firmly. “But I want them.”

Su Qing sighed. “You have tons already. Your cabinet’s bursting. Ten toothbrushes, twenty towels, tooth powder crowding the sink. And balm? Xuejin’s one sword—why so much care stuff?”

“It’s on sale,” Tianning mused, eyeing the full cart. “Not buying now feels like a loss.”

“That’s the shop’s trick,” Su Qing explained. “Buying unneeded stuff doesn’t save money. We agreed—paper, sanitary bands, maybe snacks. Look at us now. Saving means avoiding traps.”

Tianning hesitated. Discounts were tempting; missing them meant higher prices later. Not buying felt like losing.

Su Qing reasoned slowly, “Think. After this, can you afford talisman materials? Medicine if you’re sick? Expensive pills for a cultivation bottleneck? Urgent expenses? Xuejin’s upgrade? Planned for those?”

Tianning, dazed by the lecture, said, “I won’t buy. I’ll put them back.”

Su Qing nodded. “Let’s check snacks. Cultivation’s exhausting—I need flavor to live.”

Tianning pushed the cart, then blurted, “I’ll give you my money. Then I won’t overspend.”

“Not a bad idea,” Su Qing laughed. “But no. You need life experience. You’ll get better. With your skills, you’ll soon spend less and live well.”

Tianning’s broke state stemmed from leaving the Qi family and Sword Sect’s closed economy limiting income.

But she’d told Su Qing she’d quit courier duties for sect tasks to earn points—partly for a sword manual in Wuya Pavilion, partly because points converted to spirit stones, making tasks more profitable.

The dorm’s real spendthrift was someone else.

Despite resolving not to overshop, they returned laden, even Xuejin Sword floating with two big paper bundles.

Entering, they saw Tang Yueling lounging on a chaise, nibbling fruit, toying with a gold-skinned, ruby-studded pomegranate from Lingbao Pavilion. Its embedded image stone projected new-season artifacts and robes with a touch of spiritual energy.

Seeing their haul, Tang Yueling sat up, brows furrowed. “You two went shopping? Without me?”

Su Qing, sorting items with Tianning, said casually, “Shopping? Just daily necessities.”

True enough.

Tang Yueling reclined, munching fruit, browsing projections.

At Sword Sect for a while, her dorm was smaller than her wardrobe, but it was fine.

The issue? No place to spend money. Sect shops prioritized ultra-cost-effective utility, and she lacked for nothing, leaving her with wealth and nowhere to spend it.

So, she cloud-shopped via image stone.

After a glance, she wanted everything. But they were cheap trinkets—she couldn’t be bothered.

“I wish Sword Sect had a Lingbao Pavilion or Lingshan Hall branch,” Tang Yueling said, tossing the pomegranate aside, propping her chin excitedly. “We could shop together. What do you think?”

She aimed the question at Su Qing, not Tianning, who seemed clueless, like she grew up in a vacuum.

“With Sword Sect’s student demographics, who can afford it?” Su Qing mused. “Boutique lines profit per sale. Set it up, and sell extras outside. But shops here are tight. Getting a storefront’s tough.”

Sect shops were planned, scarce, and student-backed, with great business. No one would give one up.

Su Qing dreamed of a small business, ideally a shop. Working at the second cafeteria, she’d watched for rental listings, but found none.

Even if Lingbao Pavilion opened, Su Qing figured she’d more likely work for Tang Yueling than shop there.

True enough. Tang Yueling’s interest faded. “Forget it. Too much hassle.”

…

Afternoon.

The main peak’s busiest building? The cafeteria. From teachers to students to stewards, everyone loved food. Appetite was a primal desire—even cultivators struggled to quit.

Cultivation was grueling, a gamble with fate. Why not eat and drink well while human? Else, if the heavens fell, regrets would sting.

Thus, the cafeteria had wide, orderly roads and student-trodden shortcuts. Narrower but closer, shortcuts shone during meal rushes, favored by students.

One path, short and shaded by trees, was popular, worn slick, not a blade of grass surviving.

Orange King loved this path.

A long-time Sword Sect spirit beast, it fancied itself the sect’s guardian, top beast, and ruler of the path, with the clout to claim it.

On its watch, only one cat could beg here!

With near-suicidal resolve, Orange King flopped onto a passing disciple’s shoes, wiggling its plump, furry orange body, mewling shrilly, “Meow, meow, meow~”

*Feed me, humans!*

Humans reacted three ways.

High-cultivation, quick-reflexed students predicted Orange King’s fake fall, dodging its headbutt to keep shoes clean.

It tried again; they dodged. Again, dodge. No cat hair allowed.

Orange King scoffed: *Tasteless humans, done with cat-haters.*

Second reaction: “Whoa, where’d this cat come from? What a fat melon—time to diet!”

Orange King, self-proclaimed good-tempered, didn’t kick faces or claw eyes. Grieved but kind, it scratched their shoes to shreds.

Third reaction: “Cute kitty! So adorable, let big sister/brother pet you.”

Orange King graciously allowed head and back pets—tail off-limits. For meat, it might deign to shake paws.

The third reaction marked begging success.

This skill let it mooch food and drink here for ages—its winning way! But lately, success rates plummeted, irking it.

Not a charm issue—wrong people! So, it upped its game, meowing sweetly at every passerby.

Orange King persistently flaunted its flawless charm until it crashed onto clean, worn cloth shoes.

The person wore a plain blue robe, black hair neatly tied with a matching cloth, loose strands at the forehead. Nothing stood out—except a tattered goggle strap around their neck.

It looked up lazily, meow catching in its throat.

A refined, youthful, utterly ordinary face.

It was Jiang Weed. Not alone—a man stood beside him, arms crossed, smirking. Dressed finely, with black hair, green eyes, and gold beads dangling, his clothes were exquisite, especially the subtly visible slim white waist, strikingly elegant.

This was Hu Sang, Beast Sect teacher.

Seeing them, Orange King flipped upright, sat primly, and dropped the meows for a stern demeanor.

It exuded authority, a fat cat turned mountain tiger—were it not for orange fur on Jiang Weed’s shoes, it might’ve fooled them. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Orange King asked gravely, “What’s the matter?”

Jiang Weed smiled. “Greetings, Senior.”

Hu Sang, amused, said, “This kid went to Beast Sect for you, ran into me. I told him you’re not there, but to find you, follow me. He did.” He nudged Jiang Weed. “Speak up.”

Orange King nodded sagely. “Let’s hear it.”

Jiang Weed smiled blankly. “Senior, I’ve encountered something I don’t understand. Earth Mother says my graduation requirement is making a true friend. But I don’t get what that means. I’ve talked to many, helped with many tasks. Some ignore me after, others want more. I asked: ‘Are we friends now?’ Some said no, some yes. Are the ‘yes’ ones my friends? Have I met the requirement to return to the back mountain?”

Hu Sang thought: *This grass spirit lacks emotions, clueless about human feelings, a human shell with a plant’s heart. Yet Earth Mother tasks him with finding a true friend—tough.*

Orange King, shameless and lively, was deeply emotional but restless. Its graduation task? Write a decent poem. Enrolled for centuries, it never graduated.

Despite countless back mountain beasts and plants cycling through, Orange King remained the undisputed senior. Every new arrival paid respects. This grass spirit was no exception. Hu Sang heard from Qingge: the grass spirit arrived nameless, so it sought Orange King for a name.

Orange King said, “You’re a grass spirit? Call yourself Weed. Surname? Jiang—few strokes, easy to write. I’m a genius!”

Weed agreed, smiling, thinking it fit perfectly.

Qingge lamented, “Such an uncultured name! And he’s here to make friends. That name will get him mocked and excluded. Another graduation failure! I should’ve guided Orange King better. This is the book’s ‘calamity to three generations,’ isn’t it?”

Hu Sang found these back mountain demon cultivators hilarious, listening eagerly as an outsider.

Orange King, tail smacking the ground, fumed, “You dumb grass, a thousand years old, and human kids still take advantage of you!”

A millennium alive but newly sentient, Weed puzzled, “Am I not friendly enough? I smiled.”

“It’s not about smiling!” Orange King snapped. “The point isn’t smiling—it’s them bullying you while you grin!”

Weed realized, “Is that the book’s ‘bullying’?”

Orange King’s paw slammed down, chin up. “Tell me everything since enrolling—who you met, what you did. Report to this cat, and I’ll sort it out!”

Jiang Weed cheerfully recounted his 122 commissions and 90 refining plans. His memory was sharp—every face, voice, and word vivid, imitated perfectly. He’d prioritized their requests.

Clenching his fist, he spoke clearly for ages, concluding, “Everyone needs me.”

Orange King and Hu Sang listened to his smiling tales of being repeatedly duped. Orange King’s cat head doubled in size with frustration.

From anger to helplessness: *This naive kid.*

Hu Sang interrupted, “Wait, among these 122, no one stands out? All weirdos?”

“Stand out? You mean special?” Jiang Weed said quickly. “There is one—she insisted on paying me.”

Some found him odd and refused, but only one persisted with payment, so he remembered her clearly.

He recounted the incident clearly. Hu Sang, two sentences in, declared, “Perfect, her. She’s normal. Connect with her, try being friends. You’re on track to graduate.”

Jiang Weed, confused, said, “I’ve prioritized her commission, but I never thought of friendship. How do I do that?”

Hu Sang scrutinized him head to toe. “Your style’s too rustic—no one’ll befriend you. Start with your look. Get new goggles, better clothes, and a good belt to show off your waist. A man without a fine waist? No one’ll glance twice. That’s your asset—show it off.”

“You look ordinary, are ordinary, but as a plant cultivator, you could have an ethereal air… though yours is pretty ordinary too. Your features are fine, waist decent. Create close contact opportunities.”

Orange King, problem solved, went rogue. “Whatever, you’ve got money—treat your senior to sauced chicken legs. A hundred!”

The fat cat dropped its senior act, rolling side to side. “Feed me! Say you’ll feed me!”

Jiang Weed said, “Sure, I…”

“No feeding it,” a gentle female voice cut in.

A female cultivator approached from the path’s end, surprising both.

She wore a light blue disciple robe, black hair in a short ponytail.

Sunlight filtered through the green canopy, casting white specks on her, highlighting her gentle, upright face. Her slightly rounded cheeks hinted at youth.

Plain but pretty, she shared Jiang Weed’s everyman vibe. Yet her straight posture and steady, bright eyes showed resolve.

Her ordinary yet reliable aura was rare in Sword Sect. That face, those eyes, inspired trust despite her youth.

It was Su Qing, ever eager for meals, knowing every cafeteria route.

“The cafeteria auntie says it’s not hungry, just greedily overeating—a psychological issue. Don’t indulge it,” she explained to Weed, adding, “Hello, Teacher Hu Sang.”

Hu Sang, recalling this talentless student, nodded. That she knew Jiang Weed was curious. Was she one of the 122?

“Look.” She pointed at a tree sign, revealing why Orange King’s begging had failed lately.

The sign read:

[This cat’s dieting. Not hungry, just greedy. Don’t feed! Bad temper, bites if called fat or touched without food. Avoid!]

With Hu Sang’s cultivation, he’d seen it but kept quiet, teasing the illiterate Orange King.

Weed could read but didn’t grasp why a back mountain senior begged in the human sect.

Poor Orange King bore the grievance.

Su Qing, knowing this was Teacher Qingge’s Orange King, looked at the dejected cat. “No help for it—illiterate beasts get played by humans. Go to Teacher Qingge’s class. You don’t need every word, just the gist.”

Hu Sang, tactful, ignored Orange King’s meows. “We’re off. You two eat together—first-years, get along.”

*Build some rapport!*

Jiang Weed was puzzled. Su Qing protested, “I’ll go alone. He says he lives on sunlight and water.”

Hu Sang glared at Weed: *What’d you tell her?*

Weed, blank: *The truth.*

Hu Sang shot a look: *Keep spilling truths then.*

Weed: *Okay.*

He suddenly asked, “Is my style too old-fashioned? Should I get new goggles, better clothes?” Pinching his waist, he sighed, “Show off my waist? You’re right—last time I messed up, buying clothes and belts. Too many places to spend.”

Su Qing pointed at herself, curious. “You asking me?”

“Yes.”

Asking *her*? Did she look trendy?

Su Qing laughed, brows relaxing. “Then we’re doomed. I think it’s fine—I’m a bumpkin too.”

Jiang Weed saw her natural smile, feeling it was how a real smile looked.

Blinking, he smiled too. “Then I think it’s fine too.”

…

Finally, before her first work-study secret realm task was announced, Su Qing received her sword.