The Fox Princess And Her White Dog

40: His Faraway Princess

I hope she'll like the breakfast I made. It had been ages since Chow Chow last baked anything for anyone. The sweetheart cakes he was not so concerned about; it was the steamed red bean buns. He wanted them to be perfect for Snow.

Trotting with single-minded purpose through the village, he headed for the pens where the sheep bleated plaintively. Oh no, not you again.

Yes, it's me again, he replied with glee. He was no stranger to hard work, but the shepherd dog's tireless nature had rubbed off on him. Personally, he wanted to stay by Snow's side, but an overwhelming sense of duty and instinct compelled him to sneak out every morning. Qara, who was opening the gates to the pens, depended on him to lead and bring her flock home safe.

Look alive! Forward march! Exhilaration coursed through his body as he corralled the sheep through the opening. The other dogs kept their distance from him; they knew he was more than he seemed. Nevertheless, they worked as a pack for their mistress who carried burgeoning life within her belly.

The miles flew by quickly on the flat plains. Before he knew it, they had left the yurts far behind, and the stars had faded from the brightening sky. They continued on until they found a part of the steppes fed by a delta, and Qara signaled to stop and rest.

Parched from the exertion, he lapped up water from a slow-moving stream. In the rippling reflection, instead of his own face, was a white shepherd dog with a long snout and floppy ears, peering back at him.

What in the world am I doing? I used to be so powerful. Why am I now a dog chasing sheep?

Chow Chow lifted his head towards the clouds. What would the residents of the Celestial Realm think if they saw him in this state? He imagined his former comrades mocking him; Zhen and Huang bent over double with laughter, whilst Wen sniggered behind a gloved hand.

I was better than all of them. With my capabilities, I could have ascended to godhood. I would have been feared, worshiped, revered. But I just had to be the chivalrous hero and save that servant girl. . .

Godhood. It will never happen now.

The energy-draining collar. The years he spent in captivity as a fighting dog. If that wasn't bad enough, there was the punishment he suffered for Snow, for breaking Heaven's laws. To this day, he had not recovered from his injuries and he may never will.

All the pain and effort climbing the ranks. The blood he shed during the Trial of A Thousand Swords to earn his black jade pendant. All for naught. The only thing he could do now was accompany Snow and help Qara herd sheep.

It's a happier, simpler life, and at least I'm closer to Snow this way, he consoled himself.

When he said the six years he was Snow's dog were the best years of his life, he truly meant it. Aoko had saved him from certain death, but it was Snow who gave him a reason to live, and showed him that he deserved to be loved.

They could have had many more sweet years together. But I just had to play the hero again, and protect Snow from her half-brother. When his soul ascended to the heavens and he was reborn in his original form, instead of being buoyant, he had howled with anguish.

He had been lonely before, but the years he spent away in the Celestial Realm were the loneliest of all. Even though he had the Qilin and the Azure Dragon for companionship, it was never the same. Many a moonless night, he'd lain awake staring across at the galaxy, wondering whether his faraway princess was cared for. Wondering whether she was thinking of him, like how he was thinking of her.

Hence, now that they've reunited, he cherished every single second together, in real life and in dreams, even if it hurt him to relive his traumatic past. Even if it meant–