DSMIS CH73

Chapter 73: Extra 3—Like Father, Like Dog

Every day when Shen Xing and Jiang Lin returned home, they would check in on the “reconciliation” progress between their two furballs.

Tonight, Shen Xing had a lengthy surgery and didn’t get home until nearly ten o’clock. The moment he stepped through the door, he asked Jiang Lin:

“How’s Qianjin?”

“Looking much more energetic. He ate Heibao’s canned food tonight, which made Heibao wag his tail in pure joy and voluntarily lie down. But Qianjin didn’t rest his head on Heibao’s belly like he used to; he ran right back to his own dog bed instead.”

Hearing this, Shen Xing chuckled, walking over to rub the fluffy white lump:

“A pampered young lady, after all. Heibao gave our Samoyed the cold shoulder for days, so it’s only natural for Qianjin to hold a grudge.”

Amused, Jiang Lin nodded, stepping behind Director Shen to massage his tense neck:

“Mm. Heibao has been trailing right behind Qianjin’s butt these past couple of days; he probably won’t dare pull that again. Hungry? Should I make you some pasta, or boil some wontons?”

“I want instant noodles.”

Jiang Lin headed into the kitchen to boil noodles, while Shen Xing sat at the dining table with his legs crossed. Within moments, Qianjin trotted over to cling to him, rubbing against his legs. Shen Xing patted him with a smirk:

“Oh? Realize now that only Daddy treats you best in the whole wide world?”

Unable to understand, the Samoyed merely kept nuzzling against his pants, leaving Director Shen’s trousers coated in a fresh layer of white fur.

It took nearly a week before Qianjin finally allowed Heibao to lean in for cuddles. By the weekend, the familiar living room scene—a white Samoyed sprawled out like a pancake across the belly of a black-and-tan German Shepherd—had finally returned.

As luck would have it, Shen Xing and Jiang Lin visited the same night market they had gone to the previous week. And just like last week, at the intersection near the local university, they ran into SWAT officers on patrol duty with their working police dogs. Shen Xing nudged Jiang Lin’s shoulder:

“Look over there—isn’t that the same police dog from last week? Our two just made up; should we take a detour?”

Jiang Lin was amused by his caution:

“It should be fine, right? Qianjin was probably just curious that day.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Qianjin’s curiosity flared up again. He strained against the leash, dragging Shen Xing toward the officers. Shen Xing looked at Jiang Lin in exasperation, his expression saying, I told you we should have taken a detour.

He stroked Qianjin’s head:

“Good boy, let’s not go over there. Your Bao-ge nearly drowned in a vat of vinegar last time.”

Qianjin didn’t understand, but he seemed thoroughly anxious. Suddenly, he darted over to Heibao, barking and yapping up a storm while repeatedly glancing toward the working police dog in the distance. Afraid their resident vinegar jar was about to get jealous again, Jiang Lin was just about to pull both dogs away when Heibao’s reaction took a completely unexpected turn.

Heibao lowered his head, pressing his nose against Qianjin’s cheek to affectionately lick him, acting even more tender and clingy than he did at home.

Shen Xing raised an eyebrow. Though the Samoyed kept barking, it rubbed affectionately against Heibao. Shen Xing and Jiang Lin exchanged a glance, and Shen Xing couldn’t help asking:

“What are they even saying to each other?”

Jiang Lin shook his head, pulling out his phone to record the two dogs’ antics—including the coffee-colored police dog in full tactical uniform in the background—and sent the video to Liu Xiaohu:

“Let’s wait for an expert opinion. Qianjin rarely takes an interest in other dogs outside. Why on earth is he so ecstatic every time he sees this particular police dog?”

The two dogs chattered back and forth in canine babble. Qianjin continuously circled Heibao, poking him with his nose, and then lifting his chin to let out low howls toward the police dog in the distance. Suddenly, Heibao tackled the white Samoyed onto the pavement, his snout sniffing all over him. The two humans—no, the two dogs—tumbled into a tangled mess right in the middle of the street. Shen Xing rubbed his nose, looking at Jiang Lin:

“Isn’t their public display a bit much for social order?”

Jiang Lin rubbed his nose too, tugging Heibao’s leash to pry the two dogs apart. Once separated, Qianjin no longer barked toward the police dog; instead, he nudged Heibao with his nose, looking as though he were comforting him.

That evening, Shen Xing and Jiang Lin had barbecue as usual. On the drive home with Shen Xing at the wheel, Liu Xiaohu called Jiang Lin’s phone, asking a few questions about Qianjin’s specific behavior when he first spotted the police dog.

A moment later, Liu Xiaohu delivered his verdict:

“My guess is that Qianjin isn’t actually interested in that police dog. He’s interested in the vest and tactical gear the dog is wearing.”

With Jiang Lin’s phone linked to the car’s Bluetooth, Shen Xing heard every word and raised an eyebrow:

“You mean Qianjin fell in love with that police dog’s harness vest?”

“Exactly. Hold on a second, let me dig up some old photos of Heibao in his tactical harness.”

Hanging up the call, Shen Xing thought back to Qianjin’s behavior that day. Truth be told, it did look like he was trying to grab at that police dog’s uniform. At a red light, Shen Xing glanced at the Samoyed in the back seat, then at Heibao, and finally up at Captain Jiang sitting beside him.

Jiang Lin didn’t need to break a sweat to read Director Shen’s mind:

“Could it be that Qianjin takes after you and has a thing for uniforms?”

Shen Xing: “…”

He had no defense. He genuinely loved seeing Captain Jiang in uniform. Did Qianjin really inherit that from me?

The moment they arrived home, Liu Xiaohu texted over a whole batch of photos of Heibao in his official police vest. There were training shots, field patrol shots, and without exception, every single one was strikingly handsome. In several patrol photos, Heibao was even wearing tactical dog goggles, exuding the undeniable aura of a four-legged mob boss. Even Shen Xing had to admit it looked exceptionally badass.

He pulled the Samoyed into his lap, opened the tablet, and showed him:

“Look, this is your Bao-ge’s old pho—”

Before the word “photo” was fully out of his mouth, the Samoyed’s tail began whipping frantically as he leaned forward to enthusiastically lick and kiss the screen. Jiang Lin looked over:

“Yep. Qianjin definitely takes after you.”

Both exasperated and amused, Shen Xing ruffled Qianjin’s fluffy head:

“So all along, you just wanted to rob that dog of his uniform to give it to your Bao-ge to wear?”

Remembering how Heibao had spent days sulking in jealousy over this exact misunderstanding, Shen Xing couldn’t stop laughing.

“Don’t pull stunts like that in the future. Tying two of you together wouldn’t be enough to take down an officer on the government payroll.”

Oblivious to the lecture, Qianjin kept his eyes glued to the photo of Heibao in his tactical vest. Watching the Samoyed’s transfixed expression, Jiang Lin felt a strong sense of déjà vu—it was the exact same look Shen Xing had whenever he saw Jiang Lin in his police uniform. In high spirits, he cracked open a small can of food for Qianjin.

Two days later, Jiang Lin received a local parcel delivery sent by Liu Xiaohu. Opening it, he found a canine harness vest designed identically to an official police dog vest. The only difference was that instead of reading “POLICE DOG” (警犬), the velcro patch on the side read: “Heibao” (黑豹).

Shen Xing’s eyes lit up. He called Heibao over. Sure enough, Heibao showed zero resistance to wearing the harness; in fact, he was visibly thrilled, slipping his head through the collar with practiced ease. He strutted around the living room like an inspector on patrol. The moment Qianjin spotted Heibao in the tactical vest, he shot out of the bedroom, affectionately launching himself onto Heibao. The two dogs rolled into a joyous furball on the carpet.

Shen Xing bumped Jiang Lin’s shoulder:

“Thank goodness neither of them can read. If either had even an elementary school diploma, we couldn’t fool them.”

Jiang Lin burst out laughing.

The two had originally planned to pool their annual leave at the end of the month for a self-drive road trip across the grasslands. They had been planning this trip for what felt like years. Both of them were cursed with the fate of workhorses; ever since returning from their deployment in Fulan County the year before last, forget vacations and road trips—the furthest they had traveled together was Beijing, and that was for conferences.

This time, they had been firmly resolved to coordinate their days off and go. But as the saying goes, nothing goes wrong until you make plans. Just as Director Shen was about to submit his leave request, the hospital organized a rural medical mission to the surrounding townships. Orthopedics was always a high-demand specialty during these rural clinics, and a young, capable deputy director like Shen Xing was the absolute backbone of the team. Taking time off was out of the question.

In the meeting, Doctor Shen had been all “I can do it,” “Count me in,” and “It’s my bounden duty.” The second he returned to his office and opened his chat with Captain Jiang, it was:

Ahhhhhhh, Hero! The vacation is ruined!

I have to go on a rural medical mission…

The grasslands are gone, the hand-pulled mutton is gone, the Mongolian milk tea is gone…

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Shen Xing was genuinely heartbroken. He and Jiang Lin hadn’t gone on a proper vacation together yet. Securing leave was even harder for Jiang Lin than it was for him; Jiang Lin had spent weeks rearranging his schedule in advance, only for Shen Xing’s end to fall apart right on the eve of departure.

When Jiang Lin stepped out of his briefing and opened his phone to this barrage of texts, he could vividly picture Director Shen’s crushed expression without even looking:

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It’s okay. The grass in Hulunbuir has only just begun turning green anyway; waiting a bit longer is fine. I’ll pick you up tonight. Don’t worry, there will be hand-pulled mutton and Mongolian milk tea. Be good, don’t be sad.

When Shen Xing clocked out that evening, he immediately spotted Captain Jiang’s car in the parking lot. Jiang Lin had changed out of his police uniform into a casual white button-down that was exceptionally easy on the eyes. Seeing Director Shen’s long face, Jiang Lin smiled and chivalrously opened the passenger door:

“After you, Director Shen.”

For dinner, Jiang Lin chose a specialty Mongolian barbecue restaurant—a hidden gem they had discovered last year. Their hand-pulled mutton and roasted lamb chops were second to none, and the decor was charmingly themed, with private dining rooms shaped like Mongolian yurts and the waitstaff dressed in traditional attire.

They ordered hand-pulled mutton chops, a roasted lamb leg, a pot of Mongolian milk tea, and a refreshing chilled side dish to cut the richness.

Once the food was ordered, Shen Xing waved Jiang Lin over. Understanding the assignment, Captain Jiang slid into the booth beside him. In the next instant, a pair of wandering hands wrapped around his waist, and a head buried itself into his chest:

“They never need aid missions early, they never need them late, but they just had to pick a fight with my grasslands.”

Listening to his grumbling, Jiang Lin stroked his hair:

“It’s fine. We’ll have plenty of chances in the future. How about I take two days off to accompany you on your rural medical mission? Will Director Shen share half his hotel room with me?”

Shen Xing looked up, his eyes instantly shining:

“Really? Is your leave easy to get?”

“I had already arranged my casework in advance. Taking two days off combined with the weekend means I can keep you company for four days.”

With this four-day “honeymoon” secured, Director Shen’s mood instantly brightened, and his appetite returned with a vengeance. He prepared to wage absolute warfare against the lamb chops and roasted leg.

The milk tea arrived as they spoke. This was Shen Xing’s absolute favorite part of the restaurant. Compared to the Tibetan butter tea they used to drink in Fulan County, authentic Mongolian milk tea was loaded with an astonishing array of mix-ins: strips of fried dough, dried beef jerky, roasted millet, dried milk skin (urum), and cheese curds (byaslag) covering an entire platter. The tea base was freshly brewed on the spot with whole milk and brick tea; the moment that rich, savory aroma hit the air, Shen Xing couldn’t resist.

Pairing it with the roasted meat, he drank nearly half the pot of milk tea by himself. As they stepped outside, Jiang Lin teased the stuffed Director Shen, who was clutching his swollen belly:

“Do you need me to help carry that for you?”

Shen Xing shot him a glare:

“Get lost.”

Shen Xing departed for the countryside on Tuesday, while Jiang Lin took Thursday and Friday off. In advance, Jiang Lin bought disposable underwear, disposable socks, and packed an entire suitcase full of Shen Xing’s favorite snacks, alongside his changes of clothes, stowing it securely in the trunk:

“Hang in there for two days, Director Shen. I’ll be there to join you on Thursday.”

Shen Xing looped his arms around Jiang Lin’s neck, planting a swift, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips:

“Remember to dress handsome. Keep it easy on the eyes.”