It wasn’t just Ji Zhaoxi who found it unbearable—Lorian did too.
When Mother Dragon told Ji Zhaoxi to leave, both of them breathed a sigh of relief at the same time.
Lorian watched Ji Zhaoxi, who never seemed to grasp the situation, and was furious.
Back then, she had worn that very same clueless expression when Alaira brought her to Mother’s birthday banquet, and now she was wearing it again while Mother spoke to her at length.
Others thought Ji Zhaoxi was foolish, but Lorian alone knew she was nothing but a cunning trickster.
At the castle gate, Lorian kicked two chests of gemstones onto the ground with her chin raised, sneering at Ji Zhaoxi.
Ji Zhaoxi, already upset from dealing with Mother Dragon, grew even angrier at the sight of Lorian’s expression.
“I don’t want your stinky gems!” she snapped.
Lorian was equally enraged. “Stinky gems?! My gems are the most fragrant gems in the world! If you don’t want them, give me back the ones you’ve taken before!”
After a pointless argument with no resolution, they parted on bad terms.
The two chests of gemstones lay abandoned at the castle gate.
As night fell, a dragon appeared and secretly snatched the gems away.
Moonlight spilled over the forest. Usually, by this hour, the forest’s creatures were already asleep, but tonight, their faces were filled with fear.
Small animals that normally slept on the ground scrambled up into the trees if they could.
“Is it really a wolf? How terrifying,” said Dot Eyes, looking worried.
“I heard it’s a wolf from another forest,” whispered the other animals.
The grass and glowing mushrooms, as always, didn’t join the discussion and slept soundly.
They died far too easily—other animals might accidentally step on them, and then they were gone. So, except on rainy days, their attitude toward life was simply: if you die, you die.
Lately, during her patrols, Ji Zhaoxi had noticed that some small animals had injuries. Glowing mushrooms on the ground had been crushed under claws, though the grass, being too ordinary in appearance, had escaped harm.
“It’s a very vicious wolf. It can swallow a human head in one bite,” said Dot Eyes, perched seriously on a branch.
“It often hurts animals and even chases people.”
It would bite them to death without eating them, just for the thrill of the hunt.
This was a serious matter, so the critical task was assigned to the most capable Forest Priestess in these woods.
The sky turned gloomy, dark clouds pressed down, and a chill filled the air. The experienced animals had already hidden themselves.
An inexperienced one kept sticking its head out, wondering, “Why isn’t anyone out to play today?”
It had just finished its busy work and wanted some fun.
Ji Zhaoxi, wearing the oiled, waterproof red cloak Celeste had given her, casually scooped up the confused little animal and stuffed it into a squirrel’s home.
The squirrel, startled by the sudden opening of its door, gaped wide—until it saw who it was, then relaxed and went back to sleep.
The Forest Priestess was far too busy, but the squirrel needed its rest now.
Ji Zhaoxi searched the forest for a while and finally found the wolf in the southern part of the woods.
To be precise, the wolf found her.
“Little Red Riding Hood, where are you going?” the wolf said excitedly, rearing up to tower over her.
No wonder it acted so boldly—it wasn’t even afraid of humans.
Ji Zhaoxi was silent for a moment, then cleared her throat. “I’m going to visit my grandmother.”
The wolf’s eyes darted as it tried to coax her into talking, but even if it hadn’t, she planned to tell it her “grandmother’s” address anyway.
After hearing the address, the wolf sprinted eagerly into the forest depths, thinking it would eat the old woman first, then the girl.
Meanwhile, Celeste was carefully arranging his hats.
He had knitted each one himself, and some had become misshapen, so he was adjusting them.
Just then, a knock came at the cave’s door.
Celeste frowned. Miss Dragon never knocked—she always kicked the door open.
A strange voice called from outside, “Grandmother, Grandmother, it’s Little Red Riding Hood…”
Celeste: …
The wolf waited at the door, ready to gobble up the old woman as soon as she opened it.
It hadn’t always eaten humans, but after accidentally tasting one, it could no longer stomach any other animal’s meat. It had also discovered it could speak human tongues.
The wolf pressed its ear to the cave door, listening. Finally, footsteps approached. But why were they so steady? Not like an old woman’s at all.
“Click—”
As the door swung open, the wolf lunged—only to freeze when it saw the man before it.
Why was the grandmother a man?
Celeste stared at him calmly.
The next second, the wolf was knocked unconscious and tied up tightly.
Outside, the rain poured harder, drowning the forest in silence except for the downpour.
“BANG—”
The door flew open as Ji Zhaoxi walked in, still in her red cloak, holding an injured rabbit.
Celeste helped her take off the waterproof cloak and hung it on the stone wall. Ji Zhaoxi tossed the rabbit onto a small wool blanket in the corner and wiped the rain off herself.
That blanket was specially used for rescuing animals—she still had a bit of a cleanliness streak and wouldn’t let them lie on her bed.
“You’ve worked hard, Miss Dragon,” Celeste said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
Ji Zhaoxi quickly covered her forehead. “Servant, know your place.”
Celeste looked at her innocently. What place? A dragon’s servant’s place was to fulfill her needs.
And if that was the rule, then he wasn’t doing nearly enough.
Ji Zhaoxi took a drop of the wolf’s blood and began treating the sleeping rabbit.
That rabbit was sleeping so soundly… It didn’t react at all when she picked it up—she almost thought it was dead.
The next morning, Celeste returned to the kingdom to handle matters.
The king had completely lost his mind. Not only did he refuse to wear clothes himself, but he also didn’t want anyone around him to wear them.
He was obsessed with convincing people of the benefits of wearing these “smart people’s clothes.”
He even tried to make the tailor wear them, giving the tailor a fright—he thought the king had seen through his scheme.
But then he realized the king was too senile and old to suspect anything, so he relaxed.
“Your Majesty, only the world’s most noble and wisest people can wear these clothes. Not even Prince Celeste is allowed,” the tailor flattered.
Pleased by the praise, the king stopped forcing others to wear them.
The tailor often felt he was less of a tailor in the palace and more of a bootlicker.
All he did every day was lick boots.
The queen had grown thoroughly tired of the king and wanted to leave. The thought of spending the rest of her life with a crazy old man who wouldn’t wear clothes made her feel sorry for herself.
When she first got together with the king, he still wore clothes, and with the added allure of power, she’d thought he wasn’t so bad.
But now? Forget it. He was no longer worthy of her!
