Judgmental wolf
The city had been his empire. Skyscrapers, contracts, endless meetings — Wang Jianyu had conquered them all. Yet the victories left him hollow. So one morning, without announcement, he drove away from Shanghai’s neon skyline and into the quiet folds of Zhejiang’s countryside.
The farmhouse awaited him like a forgotten dream. Its tiled roofs curved gracefully against the horizon, bamboo groves whispering in the wind. Inside, polished wood floors gleamed beneath chandeliers, a strange marriage of tradition and luxury. It was beautiful, but empty — a palace built for one.
Jianyu woke at dawn, sunlight spilling across silk curtains. He brewed tea himself, the steam curling like a fragile ghost. Breakfast was simple: rice, vegetables, a fried egg. No servants, no assistants, no boardroom chatter. Just him, the clink of porcelain, and the hum of cicadas outside.
By midday, he swept the courtyard, his tailored shirt damp with sweat. He tended the koi pond, scattering feed with hands that once signed billion-yuan deals. Each act was deliberate, ritualistic — as though he could scrub away the dust of his past life with every stroke of the broom.
Night fell, lanterns glowing softly against carved screens. Jianyu sat alone beneath the stars, the silence pressing against him. His phone lay untouched on the table. Wealth had bought him this sanctuary, but not companionship. The farmhouse was alive with beauty, yet it echoed with loneliness.
For the first time in years, Wang Jianyu wondered if he had built an empire only to end up with emptiness.
The next morning, Wang Jianyu decided to explore beyond his koi pond and bamboo grove. He slipped on his designer sneakers — because even in exile, fashion mattered — and wandered into the forest.
That’s when he saw it: a small, scruffy wolf sprawled under a tree, looking more like a wet puppy than a fearsome predator. Its fur was matted, one paw clearly injured, and it gave Jianyu a look that said, “Yes, I’m dangerous… but also pathetic. Please help.”
For a moment, Jianyu considered walking away. After all, he was a businessman, not a veterinarian. But then the wolf whimpered, and Jianyu’s heart — the same heart that had once melted for stock market graphs — crumbled instantly.
“Great,” Jianyu muttered, crouching down. “I came here to escape humans, and now I’m adopting wildlife.”
The wolf sneezed. Right on his expensive shirt.
Jianyu sighed. “Perfect. My first friend in months, and he’s already ruining my wardrobe.”
He scooped the wolf up awkwardly, carrying it back to the farmhouse like a man who had never held anything heavier than a briefcase. The wolf wagged its tail, clearly pleased with its new chauffeur.
By the time they reached the courtyard, Jianyu realized something: solitude was overrated. Because now he had company — smelly, injured, and probably flea-ridden company, but company nonetheless.
And for the first time, the farmhouse didn’t feel quite so empty.
Wang Jianyu had never imagined his grand escape from the city would involve… wolf nursing. Yet here he was, standing in his luxurious farmhouse kitchen, staring at a very unimpressed, very injured wolf sprawled on his imported rug.
“Okay,” Jianyu muttered, hands on hips. “Step one: don’t get bitten. Step two: figure out what wolves eat. Step three: try not to die.”
The wolf blinked at him. Then sneezed again. Right into Jianyu’s tea.
“Fantastic,” Jianyu groaned. “I finally brew tea properly, and you turn it into wolf soup.”
He rummaged through the fridge like a clueless dad trying to feed a picky toddler. Out came salmon fillets, leftover dumplings, and a suspiciously expensive cheese platter. Jianyu held them up like offerings.
“Alright, buddy. Michelin-star menu or nothing.”
The wolf sniffed the cheese, sneezed again, and promptly stole the salmon. Jianyu watched in horror as his dinner disappeared in three bites.
“Great,” he sighed. “You’re not just injured, you’re a thief. Perfect roommate material.”
Later, Jianyu attempted to bandage the wolf’s paw. He had no medical training, but he did have silk scarves. Wrapping one around the paw, he declared proudly:
“There. Designer bandage. You’re welcome.”
The wolf licked his hand, then promptly fell asleep on Jianyu’s bed. Jianyu stared at the furry intruder sprawled across his silk sheets.
“Wonderful. I escaped humans to live alone, and now I’m running a five-star wolf hospital.”
The farmhouse was quiet, lanterns dimmed, cicadas humming outside. Wang Jianyu had fallen asleep on the downstairs sofa, one arm dangling, snoring softly like a man who had finally escaped the chaos of boardrooms.
Upstairs, the wolf stirred. Its paw throbbed, but curiosity was stronger than pain. Limping down the stairs, it found Jianyu sprawled in his ridiculous silk pajamas, mouth slightly open, looking far less intimidating than the “business emperor” he once was.
The wolf tilted its head. So this is the creature form he takes? Strange. No tail. No ears. Did he lose them in battle? Or was his transformation just… defective?
It padded closer, sniffing. Jianyu muttered in his sleep, something about stock prices and dumplings. The wolf blinked. What language is this? Is he casting spells? Or is this just nonsense?
The wolf sat back, utterly baffled. When I transform, I keep my tail and ears. They’re useful. Stylish, even. But this human-creature… he looks incomplete. Poor guy. Imagine transforming and forgetting the accessories.
It gave a soft huff, almost a laugh, then curled up beside the sofa. For the first time, the wolf felt oddly protective of this strange, tailless creature. Injured or not, it decided: Fine. I’ll stay. Someone has to keep an eye on him.
Meanwhile, Jianyu snored louder, completely unaware that his farmhouse had just gained a sarcastic, judgmental wolf roommate who thought he was missing half his parts.
Wolf dairy - Day 1
The wolf woke with the sunrise, paw still aching, tail flicking lazily. Downstairs, Wang Jianyu was already fumbling in the kitchen, banging pots like a confused bear.
The wolf squinted. What is he doing? In the forest, food is simple: chase it, bite it, eat it. This creature… he traps bread in a hot box, pours white liquid into cups, and burns things on purpose. Is this hunting? If so, he’s terrible at it.
Jianyu dropped a spoon, cursed under his breath, and spilled tea all over the counter.
Ah, yes, the wolf thought. The mighty hunter strikes again. He slays spoons and defeats cups. Truly, the forest would laugh at him.
Later, Jianyu tried to sweep the courtyard. The wolf watched, baffled. Why chase dust? Dust is harmless. He fights invisible prey with a stick. Perhaps this is his training ritual. Very noble. Very pointless.
When Jianyu sat down to eat, the wolf sniffed the dumplings suspiciously. Strange prey. It doesn’t run, doesn’t squeak, doesn’t bleed. Yet he eats it proudly, like a victory feast. Maybe humans hunt… dough?
The wolf curled up, tail flicking smugly. Conclusion: humans are strange forestless creatures. They spill food, fight dust, and wear silk while hunting bread. But this one feeds me, so I’ll allow it.
Day -2
Morning: Wang Jianyu stumbled into the kitchen again, hair wild, eyes half-shut. He poured white liquid into a cup and spilled half of it. Diary note: He fights milk every morning. Milk always wins. Forest rule: don’t fight liquids.
Breakfast: He trapped bread in the shiny box again. It popped out, and he jumped like a rabbit. Diary note: Bread is his enemy. Bread attacks without warning. I respect bread more than him now.
Cleaning: He picked up a stick with feathers and chased dust around the floor. Diary note: He hunts invisible prey. Dust must be sacred to him. I don’t understand. Forest prey runs. Dust does not.
Gardening: He watered green things in pots. He smiled at them. Diary note: He feeds plants. Plants don’t eat. He is wasting water. Maybe he thinks plants are wolves too. Poor creature.
Evening: He sat on the sofa, staring at glowing rectangles that made noise. Diary note: He worships the glowing box. It shows moving prey but he never hunts them. Strange ritual. Forest has no glowing prey.
And slowly, the wolf noticed something new: when Jianyu fell asleep, it crept closer without thinking. Tail brushing his arm, ears twitching at his breath.
Diary note: I always lived alone in the forest. No pack, no den, no warmth. But this tailless creature… he is ridiculous, clueless, and weak. Yet I find myself clinging to him. Maybe… maybe I don’t want to be alone anymore.
Day -3
Morning: Wang Jianyu stumbled into the kitchen again, hair sticking up like a startled porcupine. He poured hot water over leaves, stared at it, and then drank it. Diary note: He drinks leaf water. In the forest, leaves are for chewing, not bathing in hot water. Humans are strange.
Breakfast: He trapped bread in the shiny box again. It popped out, and he jumped like prey hearing thunder. Diary note: Bread continues to attack him daily. He fears bread more than wolves. I respect bread.
Cleaning: He picked up the feather-stick again and chased dust across the floor. Diary note: Dust is his sworn enemy. He fights it every day. Dust never fights back. He is winning imaginary battles.
Afternoon: He sat in the courtyard, staring at fish in the pond. He fed them tiny pellets. Diary note: He feeds fish that cannot hunt. He is raising weak prey. Perhaps he likes helpless creatures. That explains me.
Evening: He stared at the glowing box again, laughing at moving pictures. Diary note: He worships glowing prey. They live inside the box. He never hunts them. Maybe they are sacred spirits. I don’t understand.
Day - 4
Morning: Wang Jianyu woke up with a grand idea — “I’ll play with the wolf today!” He had experience playing with dogs, after all. How hard could it be?
The wolf watched him approach, tail flicking lazily. Diary note: He’s smiling. That’s suspicious. Humans smile before doing something foolish.
Jianyu crouched down, reached out, and — in his infinite confidence — patted the wolf… in the wrong place.
The wolf froze. Ears shot up. Tail stiffened. Diary note: He touched me below. BELOW. What kind of greeting ritual is this? Is he checking for fleas? Declaring dominance? I’m offended.
Jianyu blinked, realizing his mistake. “Oh—uh, sorry! I thought—”
The wolf growled softly, not in anger but in disbelief. Diary note: He thought I was a dog. A dog! I am majestic forest royalty, not a fetch-playing furball. He’s lucky I’m injured, or I’d bite his dignity.
Jianyu awkwardly scratched his neck. “Right. No belly pats. Got it.”
The wolf turned away with dramatic flair, tail swishing like a cape. Diary note: I forgive him. He’s clueless, but he means well. Still, next time he tries that, I’ll teach him forest etiquette — starting with ‘don’t touch royalty below.’
Day - 5
Morning: Wang Jianyu approached me again, looking guilty. He had that same expression humans wear when they break something expensive — or touch something they shouldn’t.
Diary note: He’s back. Probably to repeat yesterday’s disaster. I should hide my tail.
He crouched down, hesitated, then leaned forward and… kissed me.
Right on the forehead.
I froze. Diary note: He just pressed his mouth on my head. Is this an attack? A grooming ritual? A dominance display?
Jianyu smiled nervously. “That’s how I say sorry. I used to do that to my parents’ dog.”
Diary note: Dog? DOG?! I am not a dog. I am a majestic forest creature with fur that glows under moonlight. But… his apology feels warm. Strange. I don’t understand this ritual, but it doesn’t hurt.
I blinked at him, tail flicking. Diary note: Fine. I accept this weird mouth-touch ritual. But if he tries it again without warning, I’ll bite his dignity.
Jianyu laughed softly, scratching behind my ear — this time correctly.
Diary note: He’s learning. Slowly. Like a cub trying to walk. Maybe humans aren’t so bad. Maybe… this one’s mine to train.
