Chapter Eighty-Five: The Bell

With the early-spring snowmelt, the werewolf’s condition had improved. Aside from the occasional stabbing pain in her chest each night, which left her tossing and turning, she was largely unharmed.

That day, seeing that the weather was fine, the old woman draped a black cloak over the werewolf and took her down to the market in town.

Fearing she might frighten passersby, the old woman washed the werewolf clean, changed her into fresh clothes, and even combed her hair.

Bucket after bucket of dirty water was poured away. In the dim sheen of a bronze mirror, the werewolf’s true appearance gradually emerged, revealing a lovely face.

In the mirror, the werewolf sat expressionless, staring at herself in a daze. After the old woman finished combing her hair, she trimmed her nails as well.

Only the old woman could come close to the werewolf. Only when she cut the werewolf’s nails did the girl not resist, sitting obediently and still like a well-behaved child.

As the old woman put the scissors away, she failed to notice that the werewolf in the mirror had actually smiled at her back.

That smile was so gentle, so radiant...

Leaving the ruined temple, the werewolf, as always, lifted her head to glance at the sparrow that often perched on the branch of the big tree by the entrance, then let the old woman take her hand and lead her down the mountain.

This was the werewolf’s first visit to a market.

The streets of Lanzhou were packed with people, lively and noisy. Pedestrians looked this way and that, talking and laughing. The timid werewolf followed behind the old woman with her head always lowered.

The weather was especially fine that day, and most passersby were dressed lightly. The werewolf, wrapped in a shabby black cloak with its hood drawn low over her head, stood out all the more.

Everyone she passed cast curious glances her way, unable to resist looking twice, some even pointing and whispering.

Just then, a carriage came up behind them. The driver saw her walking in the middle of the road and shouted harshly, driving her away in a rude tone.

Already fearful of people, the werewolf hurriedly darted aside. Looking up, she saw two children at play had, while the adults were not paying attention, run out into the path of the carriage.

At the driver’s cry, one child got away, but the little boy froze in terror, standing rooted to the spot, both hands frantically wiping at his tears.

In that critical moment, the werewolf sprang forward without hesitation to save him.

She leaped from a vendor’s stall, flipped in midair to land in front of the carriage, then seized the child and rolled aside, preventing tragedy.

The startled horse came to an abrupt stop with a whinny. The commotion drew the crowd’s attention, and when they saw the carriage had nearly run someone down, they all hurried over to watch.

At that very moment, the old woman was standing before a stall selling sesame flatbreads, intending to buy one for the werewolf with the little savings she had managed to set aside.

But when she turned around, she found the werewolf gone.

Panic seized her at once. “Oh no,” she murmured.

Seeing that something had happened, the driver, who had just moments ago been so arrogant and overbearing, instantly lost his nerve. He jumped down in a fluster and ran forward to inspect the situation.

The little boy was still crying his heart out, having been saved by the person in the black cloak.

During the tumble just now, the werewolf’s hood had slipped back, revealing her face. An elderly man nearby, who sold reed mats, recognized her and immediately shouted, “Werewolf!” The cry sent everyone stumbling back in alarm.

Keeping their distance, the people formed a ring around her and began pointing and accusing her before the crowd.

It was as though they had all forgotten that she had saved the child. In an instant, the one who had acted from kindness was treated with cold hostility, turned into an object of universal disgust and persecution.

Seeing everyone’s attention fixed on the werewolf, the driver seized the chance to escape, slipping away in haste. He cast her a sympathetic glance, then hurriedly drove the carriage off.

The little boy’s mother rushed over and, without bothering to distinguish right from wrong, slapped away the werewolf’s hands as she held the child.

The blow reddened the werewolf’s arm, yet she still did not get angry.

Then the crowd’s opinion turned entirely one way. Regardless of right or wrong, of black or white, they dumped all blame onto the werewolf and did not hesitate to invent lies.

“I just saw it. It was this werewolf who frightened the child into crying!”

“That’s right. She spooked the horse and nearly got the child run over.”

“Monster! Monster! Get lost already...”

The werewolf looked at them with wounded eyes, unable to speak up and explain. She stood in the middle of the crowd and took their abuse. Far more than the injuries on her body, the wounds in her heart were what hurt her most.

Seeing a crowd gathering ahead, the old woman sensed that something was wrong and quickly forced her way through. There she found the werewolf, nearly driven to fury, teeth bared and ready to attack at any moment.

The moment the werewolf saw the old woman, she suppressed the rage that had nearly erupted and looked toward her instead.

Perhaps unable to bear it any longer, an elderly woman selling candied hawthorns stepped forward bravely and spoke up for justice, describing the truth as she had seen it.

“So many of you, all picking on and bullying a child—what sort of conduct is that? I saw it clearly: that child just risked her life to save someone!”

“Don’t be afraid, child. Yes, I saw it too.”

“The driver who nearly ran someone over has already fled! It was all because of you lot, and now you’re unfairly blaming a good child instead.”

Perhaps because the old woman had stood up to defend the werewolf, more people’s conscience was stirred awake, and they began to speak on her behalf.

The few who had been shouting just moments before fell silent at once. Those who had merely followed the crowd and twisted right into wrong had even less face to remain and watch. Apart from the few who firmly supported the werewolf, the rest dispersed.

Tears in her eyes, the old woman bowed deeply in gratitude to those people. The werewolf, too, felt warmth rise in her chest at their kindness and realized that not everyone in the world was bad.

The woman selling candied hawthorns, moved by the werewolf’s brave act of risking herself to save another, gave her a skewer of candied fruit, smiling as she handed it over.

The werewolf pointed to herself. The woman nodded to show it was indeed for her, that there had been no mistake. Then the werewolf turned to look at the old woman.

Only after the old woman nodded in agreement did the werewolf slowly reach out and take the skewer.

Taking it carefully, she received the candied fruit as though it were something precious. This was the first time she had been deeply moved by a stranger, aside from the old woman. Tears glimmered in her eyes as she politely smiled at the woman.

Seeing the werewolf smile, the old woman’s expression turned to astonishment. It was not that the werewolf did not know how to smile; rather, she had been oppressed and bullied by too many people, until the fur on her body had been driven up into thorns.

She had forgotten how to smile, forgotten how to draw near to others, forgotten all the beauty that had once existed. In her eyes, there was only hatred and fury.

The man selling steamed buns then gave her several large buns, and a craftsman who made sugar figurines quickly molded a small tiger on a stick and handed it to her.

Feeling about her body as if searching for something, the werewolf then took out a few little wooden figures. They were dolls she had personally carved when she lived in the mountains with the wolf pack.

“Take them,” the old woman said with a smile. “This is her way of thanking you.”

The werewolf had no money on her, but she also understood that she could not simply take others’ things without giving anything in return. Smiling, the others accepted the little wooden figures and carefully kept them as mementos.

Holding the gifts from everyone, the werewolf no longer needed to hide beneath her hood. Like an ordinary child, she followed behind the old woman, looking around in wonder as she walked, munching on candied fruit and occasionally offering some to the old woman.

Smiling, the old woman told her to eat it herself, saying she did not want any. Just then, the werewolf suddenly heard the jingle of bells. Her expression changed at once, and her emotions suddenly slipped out of control.