King of the Wilderness

He knew he couldn’t continue this dangerous topic any longer. At least, not for now.

He picked up the largest piece of chicken from his bowl and placed it precisely into her bowl, using the action to change the subject.

After finishing the lunch filled with ambiguous tension, Lin Yu’an carefully packed the fish paste prepared for December into an insulated lunch box.

He stood up, his tone returning to calm and serious: "Let’s go, it’s time to see our little princess."

The snow and wind showed no sign of abating that afternoon in Anchorage.

Max drove her Subaru Outback, carrying Lin Yu’an, slowly towards the Arctic Biological Research Center.

Lin Yu’an quietly watched the scenery fleeting outside the window, his fingers unconsciously tapping on his knee, his thoughts already at the place they were about to reach.

He could vividly recall over a month ago, when he left, December’s urgent howling.

That sound, like an invisible thorn, often startled him awake in the middle of the night during that period.

He had more than once doubted whether his decision to separate from it for the sake of returning it to nature was fundamentally wrong.

And Max, from time to time, glanced at the silent man beside her with the corner of her eye.

She knew Lin Yu’an must be thinking about December, wondering if it was right to decide for December to undergo wild training.

She wanted to say something to comfort him but didn’t know what to say. As a scientist, she knew the stubbornness and lethality of animal depression deeply.

She couldn’t promise Lin Yu’an anything; any cheap comfort seemed pale and powerless in the face of such heavy reality.

The car turned a corner, and the Alaska Arctic Biological Research Center’s modern yet cold building complex finally appeared in view.

To Max, it was once her scientific holy hall to realize dreams.

But now, it seemed more like a battlefield filled with political struggles and cold rules.

As they passed through layers of disinfection and security checks, arriving again in the isolation area filled with the scent of disinfectant and animals, an unusual oppression was pervasive.

This place, though usually quiet, was eerily silent today, as if all life energy had been absorbed entirely by these white walls.

Several colleagues in white research uniforms passing by just glanced at Max from a distance with a complex look in their eyes before hurrying away.

Since overturning the table in the conference room that day, she had become an isolated anomaly here.

"The situation... might be worse than what I mentioned on the phone." Max spoke softly, leading Lin Yu’an straight to the central monitoring room.

In the monitoring room, the researcher on duty silently stood up to make room for them before stepping aside.

Lin Yu’an’s gaze was immediately drawn to the massive wall of monitors.

Dozens of screens displayed real-time footage of different areas of the research center.

And on the central screen was December’s habitat, simulating the Polar environment.

The habitat looked vast and cold.

The pale light from the energy-saving lamps reflected off the thick ice shards and artificial snow, creating a lifeless glow.

The deep pool, once December’s swimming pool, calmly reflected the cold air like a mirror.

In the farthest corner of the habitat, a snow-white, fluffy form was curled up.

It faced away from the entrance, its large head buried deep in its front paws, motionless, like a statue covered in snow.

If not for the gentle rise and fall of its thick back fur with its faint breaths, one might mistake it for a lifeless snow pile.

In a little over a month, its size had grown noticeably, transforming from a round, fluffy ball into the sleek silhouette of a juvenile beast.

"It has been lying there like this for almost two days." Max’s voice was filled with helplessness and heartache.

"Except for occasionally drinking a little water, it doesn’t touch any food. Our best behaviorist tried to approach it yesterday morning."

"But it just glances up indifferently before burying its head again, refusing any form of interaction."

"Its weight has dropped by nearly five kilograms in the past week."

Lin Yu’an didn’t speak, simply watching the screen silently. His heart felt as if an invisible hand was gripping it tightly.

He saw, near the corner where December was curled up, several scattered red rubber balls. They were toys he had left for it before he departed.

But now, those red balls that once brought endless joy seemed abandoned, covered in a thin layer of dust.

After a long while, he finally turned around and spoke hoarsely, "Get me a protective suit. I want to go in and see it."

Wearing the familiar white full-body protective suit, Lin Yu’an stood before the heavy, disinfected iron door, taking a deep breath.

He held the still warm lunch box in his hand.

"Lin..."

Max stood behind him, unable to resist reminding him again: "Be careful. Its emotions are very unstable now. Although it’s young, it’s still a polar bear, and its strength..."