He couldn’t be bothered to give it much thought; these matters were none of his concern. Here, the sky was high and the emperor far away. If the Fang Wolf Tribe wanted to find him, they’d have to fly over. Otherwise, there was no connection between them at all.
With that in mind, he turned his attention to the white wolf.
"Calling you ’you damned dog’ every day won’t do. You need a na, and it can’t be a bad one at that—I can’t have it reflecting poorly on ~"
Lance stared at it, pondering. The white wolf, feeling sowhat uneasy under his gaze, stopped licking water and began to look around evasively.
"The decision is made, your na will be Wang Cai," Lance confird with a nod, speaking a word that was distinct from the common tongue and even sowhat abstruse.
He had considered many nas, like Chasing Wind or Howling Moon, but they were all just so-so. A familiar na with a special aning was better; at least it would be morable.
"Wang Cai," Lance tried calling out. Seeing that the ’dog’ wasn’t paying attention, he slapped it on the head, giving it such a fright that it almost wet itself.
"Did you hear that? Your na is now Wang Cai."
The white wolf’s face actually showed a humble expression, as if to say, "Whatever you say, goes."
"Wang Cai?"
"WHINE." The white wolf whimpered, moving closer as if to lick him, but Lance pushed it away with slight disgust.
"You are a wolf, not a dog, got it? You have to be more dominant, have the vigor of a roaring tiger..."
The white wolf was as smart as a human. After just a few tries, it understood that "Wang Cai" was its na and began to respond to the word.
"Let’s go, Wang Cai. Wait for outside by yourself; don’t leave the house."
When Wang Cai heard this, it looked back at Lance with a hint of disbelief. But as soon as it saw Lance waving his hand as though shooing it away, it sprang to life, bounding away like an off-leash Husky. It then shook off the droplets clinging to its fur before trotting out with a sprightly step.
Lance watched its antics, knowing that it was just a one-month-old wolf pup, still not fully developed in personality, curious about everything around it, and less steady than an adult wolf.
Yet its hunting skills seed inborn. He couldn’t tell whether they were taught by the mother wolf over the past month or the result of an awakening of bloodline instinct.
But when Lance looked down and saw his own wet clothes, he felt a bit helpless and simply took them off, revealing a sculpture-like, robust physique.
When he arrived in Hamlet, he was only about 1.7 ters tall and had never done any heavy work, having grown up fair-skinned and clean.
Yet, in just under two months here, he had grown to over 1.8 ters. Every muscle seed as if it had been carved by a master sculptor—a perfect combination of strength and aesthetics, like sothing out of a fantasy.
But he hardly gave it any thought. In this deserted corner, an expression of fatigue finally erged on his face.
So tired~
Settling into the large tub, the warm, clear water enveloped him, and he imdiately beca languid. The pressure that had built up along the way dissipated as well.
Compared to most people, Lance had one habit that could be considered luxurious: bathing every day, except in special circumstances.
However, he had had few chances to bathe on this journey, either traveling with soldiers to open trade routes or sailing on ships.
But being able to do so now already made him quite content~
Right, I should set up a bathhouse! It’s ti to change those fellows’ hygiene habits. Another place for recreation is definitely better than them just eating, drinking, and gambling...
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