Chapter 22
The purple-furred squirrel caught the phrase “little one,” and a flicker of embarrassment flashed through its eyes.
How was it supposed to tell Wen Xin that it was no longer a youngling?
But the next second, when the young man called it over, the purple squirrel quickly brushed aside its embarrassment.
In a few quick hops, it jumped to the bedside, raising its tiny paws to proudly present a multicolored rope.
“Squeak.”
Wen Xin naturally took the rope and then opened the drawer to pull out some wet wipes.
Unlike the other little ones, even though the purple squirrel had already washed its feet, it still insisted on meticulously wiping its hind paws again before climbing onto the bed.
From this, Wen Xin learned that their little purple squirrel had a bit of a cleanliness quirk.
However, this quirk was mostly self-imposed—strict about itself, but not concerned about others. It would only occasionally get upset when the other little ones made a mess of the house.
Seeing how much the squirrel cared about cleanliness made Wen Xin feel a bit amused.
He suspected that the reason the purple squirrel was more willing to approach him than the others was that he always made a habit of washing his hands when he got home.
Soon, the purple squirrel finished cleaning itself.
It climbed up a small stool and effortlessly leaped onto the bed. Before it even had a chance to steady itself, it eagerly grabbed Wen Xin’s sleeve.
“Squeak squeak squeak.”
Clearly urging him to hurry.
Seeing how impatient the little one was, Wen Xin didn’t delay. He unlocked his phone and quickly found the video he had saved earlier.
It was a tutorial on how to weave beautiful knots with ropes.
When the purple squirrel first came to their home, it was extremely withdrawn. It took Wen Xin a long time to discover that it had an interest in both household chores and weaving.
Learning to do chores was easy. Wen Xin had honed his own skills in household tasks long ago to live independently.
With his patient guidance, the purple squirrel quickly mastered cleaning.
Weaving, on the other hand, was a bit more challenging. Wen Xin was a jack of all trades, but this skill was outside his area of expertise.
Thankfully, he could rely on online tutorial videos.
As soon as the video started, accompanied by soothing music, the content creator began carefully explaining the techniques needed for this lesson.
The purple squirrel fiddled with the rope, but instead of following along with the tutorial, it looked expectantly at Wen Xin.
Wen Xin understood. He picked up several pieces of rope and began demonstrating.
Only then did the purple squirrel begin to move.
It picked out ropes of different colors, just like Wen Xin.
Its eyes stayed focused on the flexible, weaving fingers in front of it.
The fingers were slim and long, with distinct knuckles.
The skin was as pure and clean as untouched snow.
During its troubling journey, the purple squirrel had seen many humans.
But very few had hands as beautiful as Wen Xin’s.
These clean, beautiful hands were the same ones that, after hearing a sound, had carefully dug through the trash and pulled out its wounded, festering body.
Those hands had been its lifeline, pulling it back from the brink of the abyss.
But what had it done back then?
The purple squirrel took a shallow breath, a sharp pain of suffocation gripping its chest.
It didn’t even notice that in its growing agitation, the knots in the rope had become a tangled mess.
All it could think about was what if.
What if, it hadn’t endured all the cruel experiments at the base?
What if, it hadn’t narrowly escaped countless life-threatening hunts?
What if, barely clinging to life, consumed by despair and hatred for humans?
Would it have been able to relax in Wen Xin’s arms, instead of baring its fangs and viciously lunging at his throat?
…
When the purple squirrel came to him, Wen Xin sensed that it had something on its mind.
The little purple squirrel was the most skilled of all the little ones, able to master any intricate task quickly. It hadn’t really needed his help with weaving in ages.
Saying the purple squirrel came to play with him was just a joke.
If it really wanted to play, why would it choose such a silent “game” where neither of them spoke?
So even though Wen Xin appeared to be focused on the video, most of his attention was actually on the little one.
Noticing the faint red gleam in its eyes and the hint of wildness in its movements, he put the rope down.
As the purple squirrel was lost in the terrifying memory of nearly killing Wen Xin, unable to snap out of it, a few pale fingers reached out from behind and gently held its small paw.
“Hey, don’t rush.”
Wen Xin knew that at this moment, he could probably push the little one to reveal its worries.
But doing so would be like reopening a fresh, bloody wound.
So, he suppressed his concern and softened his voice, patiently helping the purple squirrel untangle the knotted rope.
“If you feel frustrated, just tell yourself, take it slow.”
“If once isn’t enough, we’ll say it again.”
“Take it slow, no rush; take it slow, deep breaths.”
The moment Wen Xin touched it, the purple squirrel’s aggressive thoughts instantly scattered.
It was nervous because its claws were sharp, and it was afraid of hurting the young man. It didn’t dare use any strength, carefully following Wen Xin’s fingers to straighten out the ropes.
Without realizing it, it also took in Wen Xin’s soothing words.
One rope after another, knot by knot.
The tangled mess slowly returned to its original shape.
The purple squirrel found itself lost in thought again.
It realized that the human in front of it always seemed to have endless patience.
Just like when they were at the trash bin.
Back then, it had opened its mouth to bite Wen Xin. Wen Xin narrowly dodged, and any normal person would have recognized the danger and run away.
But Wen Xin didn’t.
Even though the young man had clutched his neck in fear, he had stayed, his hand trembling and covered in cold sweat as he repeated over and over, “You’re badly hurt and need treatment. Let me check on you, okay? I won’t hurt you.”
Irritability was a genetic flaw in the purple squirrel.
It could go into a rage twelve times in an hour, smashing tables, breaking reinforced glass—just because it didn’t like the sight of a researcher passing by.
A creature like that could never be patient, and it never received anyone else’s patience.
Its number was always on the list of untamable mutants recommended for termination.
But under the moonlit sky, in the midst of that stinking environment, Wen Xin had shown it over three hours of patience.
That patience finally allowed it to calm down enough to catch the scent of the little black ball and the others lingering on Wen Xin.
It wasn’t clear how much time had passed—maybe just a few minutes—when Wen Xin’s gentle voice spoke again.
“Look.”
Without realizing it, the purple squirrel had calmed down considerably and instinctively looked down.
It discovered that Wen Xin hadn’t just untangled the rope; he had finished weaving it.
The brightly colored ropes were intricately woven together, creating a beautiful and unique pattern.
Just like the complex emotions it had felt when it reached out with its dirty, injured paw and placed it in Wen Xin’s clean, beautiful hand.
…
Outside the bedroom, the canary, who had sensed the purple squirrel’s impending outburst calm down again, couldn’t help but speak up.
There was one question that had been bothering it for a long time.
“Do you think Wen Xin has noticed anything strange about us?”
