The Mysterious Woman

 Dustin didn't approach, simply standing at the doorway and speaking gently: "It's alright, I won't hurt you. If you want to eat, you can come anytime."

The little white fox continued to stare at him warily, its amber eyes glimmering with an intelligent light in the dim surroundings.

Dustin backed out and retrieved more food from the refrigerator.

A few slices of ham, a small bowl of milk—he placed them in a corner of the kitchen, then returned to the living room and pretended to read, while keeping watch on the kitchen from the corner of his eye.

After about half an hour, the little white fox finally limped out of the storage room. It first surveyed its surroundings warily, and only after confirming that Dustin posed no threat did it quickly snatch the food and scurry back to the storage room.

Over the following days, Dustin left food in the kitchen corner every day—sometimes sliced fruit, sometimes cooked chicken, sometimes specially purchased pet treats.

The little white fox's arrival times were unpredictable, sometimes at dawn, sometimes late at night, but Dustin could always tell it had visited by the diminishing food.

Its wariness seemed to fade bit by bit. At first, it only dared come out when Dustin left the kitchen, but later it would quietly slip in even when he was in the living room.

One afternoon a week later, while Dustin was reading in the living room, the little white fox actually walked right up to his feet, looked up at him, then gently nudged the apple in his hand with its nose.

Dustin smiled and broke off a small piece of apple, placing it on the ground.

The little white fox hesitated for a moment, then lowered its head to eat. This time, it didn't immediately flee. After finishing, it lay down on the carpet by Dustin's feet and licked its injured hind leg.

Only then did Dustin have the opportunity to examine its wound closely. It didn't look like an ordinary scrape or bite—there were faint charred marks around the wound, as if it had been injured by some special force.

"May I take a look?" Dustin asked softly.

The little white fox seemed to understand. It raised its head to look at him, a flicker of hesitation passing through its amber eyes, but ultimately it didn't resist.

Dustin carefully examined its wound—cleaning, disinfecting, applying medicine, and bandaging.

Throughout the entire process, the little white fox only trembled slightly on occasion, but it didn't struggle or try to bite him.

"There. Don't get it wet for the next few days, and it should heal soon." Dustin gently stroked its head.

The little white fox nuzzled his hand, then limped away.

From then on, the little white fox appeared more frequently.

It would nap at Dustin's feet while he read, would curiously come over to sniff when he brewed tea, and even allowed him to stroke its smooth, soft fur.

Dustin gave it a name—Little Snow.

"Little Snow, I have salmon for you today—your favorite." Dustin placed a small dish of sliced fish in the kitchen corner.

But that day, Little Snow didn't appear.

Nor the next day.

Dustin was somewhat worried, but thought that since it was a wild animal after all, perhaps once its injury healed it had returned to the mountains.

Until the fourth night, when Dustin was awakened by urgent scratching at the door.

He opened it to find Little Snow standing at the entrance, completely soaked. Beside her lay a woman, equally drenched.

She was covered in wounds, her complexion pale as paper, her breath faint. Her white ancient-style robes were more than half stained with blood, yet even so, her stunning beauty could not be concealed.

It was an ethereal kind of beauty—brows like distant mountains, skin like condensed jade. Even unconscious, she emanated an aura of cold, otherworldly elegance.

Little Snow had dragged the woman to the doorstep, nudging her with its nose before looking up at Dustin, its amber eyes filled with pleading.

Dustin immediately carried the woman inside and laid her on the sofa.

After examining her injuries, he found many external wounds, but the most serious damage was internal—varying degrees of injury to all her vital organs. There also seemed to be a strange energy rampaging through her body.

Though Dustin had lost all his cultivation, his medical skills remained.

He quickly treated the woman's external wounds, used acupuncture to stabilize her internal energy, brewed a medicinal formula for internal injuries, and carefully fed it to her.

Throughout the entire process, Little Snow stayed by her side, eyes fixed intently on the woman, occasionally glancing up at Dustin with obvious anxiety in its gaze.

"Who is she to you?" Dustin asked Little Snow.

Little Snow naturally couldn't answer, only gently rubbing its head against the woman's hand.

The woman remained unconscious for two full days.

During those two days, Dustin tended to her carefully, and Little Snow never left her side.

Dustin realized this woman was far from ordinary.

Her meridians differed from normal people, and though the residual energy in her body was violent, its essence was extremely pure—far beyond that of common martial artists.

On the morning of the third day, the woman finally stirred awake.

The moment she opened her eyes, Dustin almost held his breath.

They were eyes as deep as a cold pool—clear yet distant, as if they could see through one's heart.

Seeing Dustin, her gaze immediately became guarded. She tried to sit up but aggravated her wounds, causing her to wince in pain.

"Don't move. You're seriously injured." Dustin said quickly.

The woman looked around, then noticed Little Snow lying at the bedside. Her expression softened slightly. "You saved me?"

"Little Snow brought you here." Dustin gestured toward the white fox. "I only did what needed to be done."

– Marinien