Ch 82: My Wolf Husband

With the nourishment of the rainy season, Dongshan’s wetlands flourished, teeming with life.

Lin Shuishi’s belly, too, had swelled like a balloon filled by the spring breeze. No longer flat, it had grown to the point where he had to support himself slightly when walking.

A soft blade cuts without pain—he had gradually grown accustomed to his steadily growing stomach, which moved from time to time. However, Fuli had yet to treat it as something ordinary.

That day, rain drizzled outside, and Lin Shuishi was nestled comfortably in the man’s embrace, sleeping soundly. His belly was supported by Fuli’s large palm, easing his burden. This had already become a practiced routine between them.

But then, for some reason, Fuli suddenly sat up!

The movement startled Lin Shuishi awake, dragging him up along with him. Half-asleep, he clung to Fuli’s shoulder, rubbing his eyes and wiping away the drool at the corner of his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” He looked up and saw that Fuli’s golden slit pupils were fully dilated in the dark, glowing, reflecting light—it was enough to make anyone nervous. It was the unmistakable gaze of a beast.

Lin Shuishi snapped back to reality and smacked his lips, just about to lie back down when he felt the man’s large hand carefully rubbing his belly, his expression strange.

“He called me,” Fuli said. “Said he’s feeling cramped. And he wants honey.”

Lin Shuishi blinked in confusion. “Huh? Are you… feeling okay?”

He reached out his slightly sweaty hand to touch Fuli’s forehead. Was he feverish and delirious? The baby wasn’t even born yet—how could it talk? And ask for honey, no less?

In the dead of night, this was downright eerie.

But Fuli seemed certain. Without another word, he swiftly got up—without even putting on clothes—tucked Lin Shuishi snugly under the fur blanket, and leaped into the rainy night outside the cave. After checking that the sentry wolves were still on guard, he bare-chestedly dashed down the mountain, disappearing into the storm.

Lin Shuishi lay in his warm bed, feeling a little sore in the waist. He reached back for a cushion, propped himself up, and stared at the ceiling, utterly speechless at how absurd the situation was.

Then, on a whim, he sat up, lifted his shirt, and cradled his belly. “Cramped? You roll around and practice your punches in there every day, and you feel cramped?”

He huffed, feeling a bit wronged. Outside, the rain drummed on, and Fuli had run out half-naked. Eating honey? At this hour? He was about to scold the baby further when he suddenly froze.

Now that he thought about it… he could faintly smell that sweet, milky scent of Dongshan’s floral honey. He had no idea what kind of bees made it, but it had a creamy fragrance and tasted divine.

Unconsciously, he swallowed, his mouth watering.

“Well… you want to eat it. I’m just going to have a taste.”

Resigning himself, he climbed out of bed, lit the new oil lamp he’d bought from the peddler. Its flame was bright and clear, casting a soft glow over the rain-soaked night outside.

He was waiting.

For Fuli.

And also for the honey.

---

By morning, the night’s drizzling rain had cleared, leaving behind a vast, clear blue sky, washed fresh and bright.

Lin Shuishi woke up well-rested and sat alone at the entrance of the wolf’s den, swinging his legs as he breathed in the crisp air. He had no appetite for breakfast—the honey from last night had been too much, and he still felt full.

Fuli, meanwhile, still had to go hunting with the wolf pack. During summer, the wolves were reluctant to leave their dens, spending most of their time lazing on the mountain ridges, only venturing out for patrols and food.

It was as if they were waiting.

Waiting for their cubs to be born.

Just like Fuli—he had quickly hauled back a wild ox from the hunt and then refused to leave the den again. Instead, he lingered around Lin Shuishi, circling him.

His tall, muscular frame was packed with strength, yet he seemed to have no idea where to direct his energy, making him look somewhat restless.

Fuli’s beastly instincts were in full display. Like any male wolf guarding its mate in the den, he sniffed him constantly, rubbed up against him, coiled around him like a dragon guarding its treasure.

But Lin Shuishi couldn’t take it anymore!

Being stuck together like this, wrapped in endless affection, how could things not get out of hand? He was still young, brimming with vitality!

Every time his own desires surged, that man would simply kiss him tenderly on the brow, then hold him in his arms and… fall asleep.

Nothing happened.

Absolutely nothing happened!

Lin Shuishi felt like something was gnawing at his heart, making his entire body itch.

So, gritting his teeth, he gathered all his strength, flipped Fuli over, and sank his teeth into him.

---

By dusk, the fiery red sun was sinking behind the western mountain ridge, dyeing half the sky in warm hues. Thick clouds rolled in once again—another rainy night was approaching.

Lin Shuishi lay sprawled on the soft bedding, flushed from head to toe like the evening sun, his limbs weak and useless.

He regretted it.

He regretted it very much.

While he lay there exhausted, lamenting his own impulsiveness, the man beside him, on the other hand, was full of energy. Wiping the sweat from his body, Fuli went into the inner chamber, seemingly busy with something.

After a while, Lin Shuishi finally recovered enough strength to sit up. He peeked through the doorway, curious about what Fuli was up to.

But the sight that greeted him only puzzled him further.

Fuli, bare-chested, was crouched on the ground. His arms had transformed into powerful wolf claws, and he was furiously digging at the corner of the den.

After a long while, he had barely managed to scratch out a small patch of earth. The red rock of Dongshan’s mountain caves was incredibly solid—despite its spaciousness, not a single grain of dirt ever crumbled from its walls, proving its density.

Among white wolves, digging one’s own den was a true test of adulthood. The process was so strenuous that the ability to carve out a proper home determined whether a wolf was considered mature.

But this?

Digging right after what they just did?

Was this some new way of relaxing?

“Hey,” Lin Shuishi called out. “Come to bed. It’s getting dark—I can’t sleep alone.”

Fuli sighed, reluctantly abandoning his “work.” His powerful frame shifted, claws retracting into human hands as he stood up and scooped Lin Shuishi into his arms, settling him back into bed.

He even took the time to massage Lin Shuishi’s feet. His hands and feet had been cold all day, cramping occasionally even in his sleep.

Lin Shuishi lay comfortably, pressing his now-considerable belly against Fuli for warmth. As he glanced at the man—who hadn’t gotten a speck of dust on him despite all that digging—he couldn’t help but marvel at the red rock of Dongshan’s mountain ridges.

It didn’t shed dust, didn’t cling to clothing, and was incredibly sturdy. It truly was a paradise for cave-dwelling creatures. The ancestors of the white wolf clan had certainly chosen their home wisely.

“Why are you still digging?” Lin Shuishi muttered. “The den is already huge. There are two rooms.”

It was several times bigger than the Wolf King’s own den.

Fuli’s golden eyes held a hidden anticipation as he rumbled deeply, his chest vibrating against Lin Shuishi’s cheek.

“Not enough,” he murmured.

With more pups, there wouldn’t be enough space.

Saying this, he hugged Lin Shuishi tighter. Seeing him wide-eyed and refusing to sleep, Fuli pressed his head against his chest, and soon, a steady, rhythmic rumble echoed from his chest—a low, soothing wolfish purr, ancient and steady.

Lin Shuishi instantly felt enveloped in that warm, drowsy sense of security. Within moments, exhaustion won over, and he yawned before sinking into a deep sleep.

Fuli looked down at his peacefully snoring mate and let out a quiet chuckle. He stopped the rumbling in his chest, reached down to give the round curve of Lin Shuishi’s backside a squeeze, and then, wide awake, continued watching over his sleeping companion.

---

Even though two of Old Zheng’s sons had secured promising futures, the Zheng family was not in high spirits after their journey. It all stemmed from what Old Zheng had heard in the city—from the surviving defenders of the city walls—about Shui Ge’er jumping off the ramparts, his fate unknown. After the war, he had taken his sons to search the battlefield below the city walls, combing through the ruins, yet they never found him—dead or alive.

It had become a knot in Old Zheng’s heart.

Yesterday, his third son, Dongsheng, sent a letter saying that Shui Ge’er was alive and well, but that the matter should not be made public. He assured their father that there was no need to worry.

But Old Zheng didn’t believe it. Jumping from such a height—how could he possibly be fine? He figured Dongzi was just comforting him, so he remained gloomy all day. With nothing else to do, he frequently went to Shui Ge’er’s house on the hillside to tidy up.

The rainy season had arrived, and an untended house was bound to become damp.

At night, Old Zheng couldn’t sleep well, tossing and turning. He only jolted awake when he heard a noise outside. Instantly alert, he sat up straight. The war had only recently ended—people still slept with one eye open.

He hurriedly told the women and children to hide while the men grabbed their weapons and cautiously approached the front gate.

Their nerves were taut, their hearts pounding, when suddenly—thud! A heavy object landed outside, followed by an eerie silence.

Waiting any longer was pointless. Old Zheng estimated the timing, then decisively pushed open the door. The group of men froze at the sight before them.

Under the bright full moon, the neatly kept courtyard gleamed, its entrance now cluttered with various offerings.

A massive, plump deer.

Several wild pheasants, their feathers vibrant even under the moonlight.

All freshly hunted—each one felled with a single, precise blow.

But the most striking of all was the woven rattan basket placed neatly at the doorstep. Lifting the cloth covering it, they found it filled with hazelnuts, pine nuts, and even a few bright red lingzhi mushrooms—the exact same kind Old Zheng had stored in his cabinet.

Old Zheng stared at the offerings, not thinking of anything else—just feeling an immense sense of relief.

Dongsheng hadn’t lied.

Shui Ge’er was alive!

And still thinking of them.

At that moment, Old Zheng had yet to realize that in the coming days, the creatures delivering meat and game in the dead of night wouldn’t just be wild animals—but also red-shelled birthday eggs.

Perhaps even personally delivered by the one now rumored far and wide as the Wolf God.

---

Meanwhile, the esteemed Wolf God was still tirelessly digging at his own walls.

Lin Shuishi sat cross-legged, enjoying a bowl of freshly picked wild berries. They were sour and tangy, making for an excellent appetizer. His appetite had been particularly strong lately—especially for meat. He was already matching Fuli’s portions! Worried about digestion, he made sure to eat plenty of sour fruit.

“Oh, right! Did everything get delivered? The other day, Brother Dongzi said their family had returned to Rehe.”

Fuli paused his digging, glanced at the white wolf who had come to report back, then nodded toward Lin Shuishi. “It’s done.”

With that, Lin Shuishi had nothing left to do. But lately, Fuli had kept him so well-guarded inside the wolf den that he was starting to feel restless.

“Ah! Speaking of which, I wonder how our rice crops are doing? With all this rain, the riverbanks are probably flooded, right?”

Fuli turned to look at the bright-eyed little troublemaker. He knew it—Lin Shuishi wasn’t actually worried about the rice fields. He just wanted an excuse to go out and run around.

A red berry flew toward him. Fuli instinctively tilted his head, swiftly catching it in his mouth. The sweet-sour taste spread across his lips.

Lin Shuishi pouted. “So? Flooded, right?”

Fuli let out a helpless chuckle, half exasperated. This little creature used to be terrified of him—one look, and he’d shiver for half a day. But now? He had developed a bit of a temper. If coaxing didn’t work, he’d bare his teeth and go for the hard approach, leaving Fuli with no choice but to indulge him.

So, when Lin Shuishi finally got his way and happily reached out to touch Fuli’s face—puckering up as if to give him a kiss—they had already arrived at the riverbank.

But the scene before them was not what they had expected.

Forget the rice paddies—even the once-crossable river had turned into an ocean. The surrounding grasslands and forests were submerged, the entire landscape transformed.

Lin Shuishi thought they had gone to the wrong place. He repeatedly asked Fuli for confirmation, and when he finally accepted the truth, he was momentarily dazed.

Fuli held him securely as they crouched on the thick branches of an ancient tree, gazing down at the rippling, mirror-like water below. The golden sunlight reflected off the surface in fragmented patterns, an awe-inspiring, dreamlike sight.

Nature’s power was breathtaking—where light and shadow split the world into realms of day and night.

Lin Shuishi was about to lose himself in the mesmerizing scenery when a sudden thought struck him. He whipped his head around to stare at Fuli, eyes wide in alarm.

“Oh no—the bear!”

Where was the little black bear?

Nowhere in sight.

Had it drowned?