Chapter 5

The injured fox dashed into the mountain spring, soaking for a full ten minutes to ensure it was clean before emerging. The gray wolf looked over their now utterly disheveled shelter, feeling somewhat unwell herself. At the moment, she wasn’t inclined to touch the human infant. But as no one came to attend to the child and her stomach grew uncomfortable, Qing Yao soon began to wail loudly and forcefully, her cries seemingly piercing through the leaves and reaching the path beyond.

The gray wolf’s keen ears caught the sound of human voices.

“Hey, I think I hear a baby crying. Did you hear that?”

“No, I didn’t. Don’t scare me.”

“No, really—it’s coming from this direction.”

“But there’s no path there. How could a baby be crying over there?”

“Could it have been abandoned? Let’s go check.”

To prevent humans from coming too close, the gray wolf, enduring the unpleasant smell, picked up the infant and headed toward the mountain spring. The child continued to cry all the way, though the presence of someone nearby caused her sobbing to lessen, as if she were exhausted, her nose twitching and her face flushed red from crying.

The gray wolf patiently cleaned her with spring water and changed her into a fresh diaper. The fox stood distantly on a rock, silently resolving never to come here for water again, even if he were dying of thirst. Though the spring flowed with fresh water, the fox, having gained wisdom, was meticulous about hygiene and loathed being called smelly; he never relieved himself indiscriminately.

After observing for a moment, he jumped over and asked, "Are you done?"

The gray wolf, unsure how to soothe the child, gently patted Qing Yao’s belly. The little one was still softly crying but seemed somewhat better. The fox reluctantly reached out and touched the infant’s face.

"Tch, human babies cry so ugly."

Whether she understood or not, the crying stopped abruptly as she stared wide-eyed at him. The fox burst out laughing. “Ha! She understood and stopped crying.”

The gray wolf’s hand paused on the child’s belly, feeling it gurgle beneath her palm. She shifted slightly to allow the fox closer to the child. He forgot his earlier frustration and fully focused on entertaining the baby.

Then came another burst of foul odor and a sudden noise.

The fox’s expression stiffened; he turned away in disbelief.

“Again? She did it again!”

This time, the gray wolf didn’t recoil. She recognized the seriousness—animals can fall ill, and if diarrhea persists beyond a day, it could be fatal. The infant was in grave danger.

“She’s sick!”

The gray wolf’s hand glowed as she placed it on the child’s belly, an invisible force enveloping her, though it did little to help with diarrhea. Their mystical powers were adept at killing but less effective at healing; even spirits had their limits.

The fox, now serious, circled the infant thoughtfully before an idea struck him.

“Let’s take her to the hospital!”

“The hospital?”

“The human clinic—let a doctor see her.”

The gray wolf immediately scooped up Qing Yao, and the fox accompanied her down the mountain. Driven by urgency, they moved at a breakneck pace, almost leaving afterimages behind, reaching the foot of the mountain in mere minutes.

To enter the hospital, both adopted human forms. This was the gray wolf’s first time seeing the fox’s human appearance—a young man with red hair, slightly taller than her, with a bit of a roguish charm. Handsome, but not the type to be taken seriously.

Neither knew where the hospital was, but the fox boldly stopped a passerby to ask. There was a top-tier hospital nearby, and when informed they were seeking treatment for a child, the pedestrian kindly warned them that if in-person registration was full, they could go straight to the emergency room.

Shortly after, the infant’s temperature rose, and she looked listless and weak, her eyes lacking their usual sharpness. Unsure how to register, they saw the large “Emergency” sign and went straight there.

The bustling emergency room was packed with people, and they didn’t know whom to approach. Here, the fox’s social skills shone; more adept than the gray wolf, he immediately caught a nurse’s attention and asked about registration.

The nurse checked the child’s forehead, handed them a thermometer, and asked a few routine questions.

“She has a slight fever. What other symptoms?”

“She’s been having diarrhea.”

“Collect some stool for testing. Did she have eczema before? Breastfed or formula-fed? Has she eaten anything unclean?”

The two creatures, having cared for the child only a day, stammered through the questions.

“We don’t know about eczema. Today she had formula.”

The gray wolf suddenly remembered the discarded takeout box she had brought back—the formula had cooled by the time they got home. The afternoon formula was mixed with spring water; apparently, humans drink hot water.

“The afternoon formula was mixed with cold water,” she said.

The nurse’s voice rose sharply. “Cold water? You gave formula to an infant mixed with cold water?”

The fox added, “Spring water.”

This made the nurse even more agitated. “Cold spring water? Without boiling it first? This is murder! How can parents be so irresponsible to their child?”

The two yokai hung their heads under the human’s scolding.

The nurse looked skeptically at them, then at the chubby child in her arms, noting that the baby showed no signs of abuse.

“Are you really the parents? Do you have a birth certificate or household registration?”

What certificate? What registration?

The gray wolf suddenly wanted to flee with the child. The fox also sensed something amiss. This child had been entrusted to them, yet it felt like they were being accused of kidnapping.

Just as they prepared to resort to magic and escape, several injured people were rushed in from outside—there had been a traffic accident nearby. Medical staff hurried off to assist.

The nurse glanced away, distracted, then hurried back to them. “Go to the service desk and get a pediatric registration number. Head to outpatient; the child shouldn’t be in serious condition.”

She scribbled a note and handed it to them before leaving.

The two exchanged a glance, their urge to run somewhat quelled, and headed to register.

With the note in hand, registration was possible—but this large hospital required real-name verification, and these two undocumented yokai couldn’t register.

The fox paced anxiously; Qing Yao’s fever worsened, her body burning hot. The fox tried to unleash his mystical power to dazzle the humans opposite him.

Normally, the gray wolf would restrain him—since leaving the mountain, they had been cautious, even when humans chased them near capture. They had never used magic on humans. But seeing the human hesitate and then mechanically ask for a name, taking a ten-yuan registration fee, and promptly handing over the ticket, she did not stop him.

Things were progressing smoothly, yet the fox grew unsettled.

Trailing behind the gray wolf, he whispered, “Won’t the human cultivators notice us? The Taoist priests and monks are still in the city. If they sense demon energy, won’t they come for us?”

The gray wolf comforted him, “Even if they find us, there’s nothing to fear. We’re saving a life, not doing harm.”

“Maybe so. But I’ve heard some cultivators kill any demon they see, regardless of intent.” He hesitated, shy. “Don’t leave me if they come. We’re in this together.”

The gray wolf looked at him as if seeing him anew. “You’re not leaving?”

“Leaving? Who said I’m leaving? Look at the vast world, the endless sea of people, and yet we two demons who just came down the mountain happen to meet, and together we’re raising this child—that’s fate. We demons must believe in fate.”

The gray wolf was speechless.

She didn’t want this fate.

In their wolf clan, a fox like him would be the first to be cast out.

The fox didn’t understand her disdain and didn’t care; he was determined to stay.

The two bantered as they made their way to pediatrics. It was their first time inside a hospital, and in the crowded corridor outside pediatrics, they huddled together.

The fox turned his head, marveling, “So many people.”

The gray wolf corrected, “Many ghosts.”

Hospitals were always lively places, full of both the living and the dead. The pediatric corridor teemed with various spirits—earthbound ghosts who died in the hospital, child ghosts following their parents, a few lively infant spirits climbing onto their parents, and others drifting in from elsewhere.

Unaware they were dead, some little ghosts wailed loudly, influencing the infant spirits to cry in unison. Voices mingled with human chatter, making the noise nearly unbearable.

The fox’s head buzzed, wishing he could block his ears.

Qing Yao, already exhausted and asleep in the gray wolf’s arms, was awakened by the noise, quietly crying like a helpless kitten. The gray wolf patted her back and created a small mystical barrier to shield her from the noise.

After soothing the infant, the gray wolf’s gaze settled on the loudest crying ghost at the pediatric entrance—a child about five or six years old, holding his head high as he looked for someone among the adults. Finding no one, he broke into loud sobs. Other ghosts were crying along with him because his volume was so great and persistent.

Ghosts cannot shed tears, but at his most sorrowful, tears glistened at the corners of his eyes. As they fell, wisps of ghostly energy drifted into the air. The infant spirits on the humans eagerly rushed to absorb this spiritual nourishment. After the energy dissipated, the crying ghost’s form grew fainter.

In fact, compared to other ghosts, his form was much more transparent. If he continued crying like this, he would completely vanish within a month, losing even the chance to reincarnate.

Though the two yokai understood this, neither felt compelled to intervene.

After all, it was none of their business. Why should they help? They were demons, not saints.