She is not a serpent at all; she is a little dragon.

Hearing the sound behind her, Liu Yi waved her hand without looking back, her short legs churning even faster.

No need for thanks.

She was a person of high moral character, the type who delighted in doing good deeds without leaving her name.

Ahem, she had just observed—the tigress was huge and robust, awe-inspiring, her gaze sharp and intense. When she'd been half-submerged in the marsh, her size hadn’t been obvious, but now, fully revealed, her four to five meters of length was enough to make anyone tremble.

She was clearly mutated.

If prey caught her eye, there’d be nowhere to run.

Fortunately, even a tigress had her gentle side—she doted on her cub.

Once Liu Yi had finished her tasks, she went back to the town to scavenge for supplies.

She was lucky enough to dig out several containers buried underground, filled not only with oil, salt, sauces, and vinegar, but also rice, flour, oil, salt, and canned goods.

By the time she finished, the sun had already set.

She remembered that in her last life, after the great earthquake came the floods, and then the long polar night. But she’d already been in the lab by then and couldn’t recall exactly when it happened, or how many more days of sunlight she might see now.

Seizing the last rays of sunlight, she quickly bent to gather firewood. The forest was full of dead branches and decaying leaves, though after last night's sandstorm, most were damp and heavy as rebar.

She picked out what hadn’t been eaten by insects and stored them in her space.

When her space was filled, she returned to her manor, cleared it, and went back out to gather more.

After several trips, Liu Yi had collected enough wood to pile up into a small mountain.

She stacked it in the courtyard to dry naturally.

By the time the polar night arrived and temperatures plummeted, the wood would be ready for burning.

After finishing all this, Liu Yi fed the little milk dog before starting on her own dinner.

What to eat?

Her instant food supplies were best left untouched for emergencies.

She craved meat buns and three-delicacy dumplings.

Her stockpile was quite complete, except for meat.

She considered steaming bread, but had no yeast.

"Bang!"—just as she was caught in this little dilemma, a wild piglet dropped out of nowhere, sending up a cloud of dust.

She was so startled her liver quaked.

Instinctively, she bolted ten meters away, then craned her head to look back.

"Awoo~ Great-grandma, my mother and I have brought you something delicious."

Following the sound, she saw the tiger cub wobbling its head, trying to take credit with a babyish pride.

At that moment, Liu Yi was so weak she could barely raise her hand without trembling.

In the pitch dark, a massive creature had fallen from the sky—who wouldn’t be frightened?

To be fair, it was only because she was who she was; any other girl would probably have been scared out of her wits.

She really couldn’t understand her relationship with the white tiger—how had it gotten so good that they were now sharing food?

Under the tiger cub’s persistent calls, the tigress finally emerged.

"Roar~ Many thanks for saving our lives, Great-grandma. From now on, my cub and I will provide for you together."

Her voice was a little raspy, but not unpleasant.

Liu Yi sensed no malice, so after exchanging some polite words, she asked the question that had been troubling her.

"Why do you call me Great-grandma?"

The tiger cub started wailing again.

From its yowling, she pieced together that the minds of beasts weren’t adept at human notions of seniority—Great-grandma was, in their understanding, the highest rank.

It was the utmost term of respect.

Instantly, Liu Yi’s lips curled in a small, smug smile, pride lighting her eyes and brows.

"Awooo~ Great-grandma, your eyes are so beautiful."

The little tiger wiggled its plump backside, wagging its tail happily, and trotted over, staring at her with its bright blue eyes.

"Thank you! Your eyes are so round and lovely too." Liu Yi flashed a set of pearly white teeth, grinning even wider.

What a clever little thing.

Children were the most honest creatures, and this tiger cub was even more sincere than a human child. By that logic, it meant she really was quite pretty.

She decided that a tiger cub who could appreciate beauty couldn’t be too bad, and her fondness for the mother and child soared.

After promising to play together next time, she saw the white tigers off.

She set up a campfire and roasted the wild piglet.

Her skills weren’t great, but with the right barbecue spices, the meat was perfectly edible.

Amazingly, she managed to eat nearly half of the piglet in one sitting.

Pure meat, and she didn’t feel the least bit sick of it!

Satiated, she wiped the grease from her mouth.

She boiled water, adjusted the temperature, pulled out the body wash and shampoo she’d stockpiled yesterday, and scrubbed herself clean.

Despite her hearty appetite, her figure was still fine; her stomach was flat, not the least bit flabby.

All was well—except that ever since her sense of smell had become so acute, even pleasant scents felt overpowering.

She wiped the steam from the mirror, intending to check her nose, but was startled by her own eyes.

They were slit pupils!

Her eyes had become vertical slits, the pupils a thick band of red, the rest white—just like a cat’s eyes.

Right—snakes sometimes had slit pupils too.

Her eyes resembled those of a snake or a cat.

Memories of transforming into a snake resurfaced, bringing a wave of pain.

She’d never heard of anyone with dual abilities in the lab—how had she ended up both turning into a snake and awakening a wood affinity?

She shrugged. It didn’t matter. At least she was alive, and adapting better to this apocalypse.

The outcome was clear—chasing after the “how” seemed pointless.

She’d known hardship at the hands of her dearest kin, and couldn’t entrust her back to anyone else. She had no intention of huddling together for warmth in the future. So what if her eyes were strange? She could just avoid people, or wear sunglasses if she had to see anyone!

There was no escaping it now—she had indeed turned into a snake.

No, no! Not a snake—a little dragon.

All Chinese are descendants of dragons; as a pure-blooded Chinese girl, turning into a little dragon wasn’t overreaching, was it?

Liu Yi made peace with herself.

When she looked in the mirror again, her red slit pupils had turned back to round, black ones.

At the same time, the sharp scent of her shampoo faded to a normal rose fragrance.

When she stepped back in surprise, her legs lost their spring; she could no longer leap several meters in a single bound.

Huh?

What was going on?

As soon as she tensed up, her black pupils turned back into red slits. Her sense of smell, strength, agility—all returned to their enhanced state.

She’d been exhausted, but ended up experimenting with this all night.

Meanwhile, she didn’t forget to feed the little milk dog in her space a few times, and occasionally turned over the big pink egg to help the unhatched creature grow healthy.

So, after a night of bustling, she figured it out: whenever she was tense, her eyes changed to slit pupils and her snake transformation activated. As long as she was calm and felt no danger or excitement, she was just a normal, delicate girl.

She even crawled under her covers to try a full transformation.

But no matter how hard she tried to scare herself, she couldn’t shift completely—not even her legs turned into a snake’s tail.

Sigh, if only Liang Zuan were here—at least she’d have a senior to ask. Now she had to figure everything out herself, and it was truly exhausting.