DSMIS CH72

Chapter 72: Extra 2 – Qianjin Feels Wronged and Gets Hurt

At first, Shen Xing didn’t pay it much mind. Upon returning home, he opened a small can of wet food for Heibao as usual—none for Qianjin, of course—and then dragged Jiang Lin into the bathroom for a shower. Having eaten too much at the night market, he was too lazy to wash himself. Captain Jiang’s massage techniques had become absolutely exquisite lately, and since it was a weekend, engaging in a little “extra-curricular activity” in the bathroom wasn’t entirely off the table.

Normally, this time of evening in the living room was a scene of perfect harmony, as Heibao would either surrender his entire can of food to Qianjin or the two furballs would happily share it. Thus, the moment Shen Xing left the room, the massive white furball bounded over, wagging its dandelion-puff tail, fully expecting to partake in Heibao’s loving offering.

However, tonight played out quite differently from their usual routine.

The second Qianjin trotted over, Heibao clamped a paw around the can and dragged it away to the other side of the room. Qianjin paused, bewildered, but obediently trotted over to the other side to resume his feast. Yet this time, Heibao let out a low, warning growl directly at him, then lowered his head and devoured the entire can in three swift bites.

Ever since the time Qianjin was scolded for trying to eat random garbage outside, Heibao had never shown aggression toward the white furball again. As a result, being growled at and having his can “stolen” left Qianjin utterly dumbfounded. Standing off to the side, his large, tender pink ears twitched instinctively. He blinked his dark, round eyes, completely failing to understand why this was happening.

He let out a soft, questioning whine toward Heibao. Usually, this sound would prompt Heibao to walk over and affectionately nuzzle him. But not today. Having finished his food, Heibao walked out onto the balcony, lay down with his back turned entirely to the living room, and completely ignored the pathetic whines behind him.

Naturally, Shen Xing and Jiang Lin were far too occupied that evening to notice any abnormal canine behavior. The next morning, Director Shen was too lazy to get out of bed for dog-walking duty, so Jiang Lin took both dogs out alone. Just like back in Fulan County, he didn’t drive them in the morning; instead, he cruised on the little pink electric moped.

But today, he sensed something was off. Heibao, who normally trailed protectively behind Qianjin, wasn’t following the Samoyed today. Instead, he ran ahead—alone.

From behind, the large white furball trotted up to nuzzle against him several times, receiving absolutely no response. Instead, Heibao would haughtily trot away to keep his distance. Jiang Lin raised an eyebrow. This behavior strongly reminded him of Heibao’s youth. Back at the K-9 training base, Heibao was notoriously antisocial; outside of training drills, he completely ignored the other dogs, maintaining an aloof, unapproachable demeanor right up until his retirement.

Yet ever since meeting Qianjin, this particular quirk had magically cured itself. By now, even Shen Xing was accustomed to Qianjin mooching Heibao’s food. What was going on now? Jiang Lin suddenly recalled the minor incident at the night market the previous evening. Looking at the stoic, focused German Shepherd, his eyes narrowed slightly. No way… is he still jealous?

Jiang Lin found it somewhat unbelievable. But morning routines in Tianjin were far tighter than in Fulan County—the precinct wasn’t a five-minute walk away. He still had to buy breakfast for Director Shen and drive to work. So, while he found it slightly amusing, he didn’t intervene in the little squabble between the two furbabies.

The optimistic Samoyed didn’t think much of it either, foolishly continuing to dog Heibao’s every step. But two days passed. Heibao refused to play fetch with him, gave no response when Qianjin tried to nuzzle him, wouldn’t let Qianjin use his belly as a pillow, and for two straight days, refused to share a single bite of canned food. The big white furball was entirely lost as to what he had done wrong.

Both Jiang Lin and Shen Xing were swamped with overtime. Director Shen was booked solid with surgeries on Saturday and had barely been home for nearly three days. Consequently, this canine “cold war” was completely overlooked beneath the crushing weight of their 996 work schedules.

Saturday also happened to be Liu Xiaohu’s birthday. Realizing Xiaohu hadn’t seen Heibao in ages, Jiang Lin messaged to ask if he wanted Heibao brought over for the weekend.

Missing his old partner, Liu Xiaohu readily agreed. Knowing Jiang Lin was busy, he offered to pick Heibao up in the afternoon. A year and a half ago, Xiaohu had returned to his old post as a K-9 handler and was currently training a yearling German Shepherd, though Heibao remained unmatched in his heart.

When he arrived at Jiang Lin’s apartment that afternoon, Heibao—who had been moping listlessly for three days—suddenly lit up, bounding straight into Liu Xiaohu’s arms.

Catching Heibao, Liu Xiaohu ruffled his head and instinctively glanced back into the apartment looking for the other furball. Normally, whenever Heibao charged over, a big white tail wouldn’t be far behind. But this time, the plump Samoyed didn’t follow. Instead, he lay listlessly a short distance away, keeping his head turned to watch them.

“Hey, why does Qianjin look so down? Is he sick?”

Jiang Lin was nursing a bit of a headache over the situation as well. Since Liu Xiaohu was a professional, he explained:

“These two have been throwing a tantrum for the past couple of days. We took them to the night market a few nights ago, and Qianjin ran over to a police German Shepherd on patrol. He was super enthusiastic, rubbing against him and barking. Since then, Heibao has been acting weird. He ignores Qianjin, and stopped sharing his canned food—something he used to do all the time. It’s been almost three days now. Look, our Qianjin even looks like he’s lost weight.”

Liu Xiaohu was stunned for a second. Looking down at Heibao and recalling his track record, he gave the dog’s head a firm rub:

“Are you acting up with your old habits again? Being a little petty, aren’t we? So what if he looked at another dog?”

Jiang Lin looked up:

“What old habits?”

“He’s a total jealousy jar. When he was young, if I fed a sausage to another K-9, he’d get so fiercely jealous he’d nearly bite through my gloves! He mellowed out as he got older. Why is he acting up again?”

Heibao said nothing, but still turned his head to cast a glance at Qianjin. Liu Xiaohu chuckled:

“Alright, I’ll take him back and give him a proper talking-to. I’ll drop him back off tomorrow evening.”

Saying that, he picked up the leash to lead Heibao away. The Samoyed, who had been lying perfectly still, finally reacted. He scrambled to his feet, charging toward the door and barking frantically as if trying to block Heibao from leaving. Jiang Lin walked over and held him back:

“Heibao will be back tomorrow.”

But Qianjin seemed highly agitated, barking relentlessly at the doorway. Heibao’s steps faltered. He looked back at Qianjin. Qianjin’s eyes lit up, his ears twitching hopefully. Heibao let out two low barks at him, then turned and followed Liu Xiaohu out the door anyway.

In an instant, Qianjin was the only dog left in the apartment. Jiang Lin watched as the Samoyed visibly deflated. Heart aching, Jiang Lin scooped him into his arms, rubbed his fur, coaxed him for a long while, and finally opened a small can of wet food.

Qianjin lay on the floor, resting his chin on his front paws. He truly hadn’t eaten canned food in three days, yet this time, he didn’t eat with his usual gusto. After finishing half, he stopped, simply lying in place guarding the remaining half-can. In the entire history of Qianjin’s gluttony, this was a first, breaking Jiang Lin’s heart.

Shortly after, Shen Xing arrived home from work. Having run non-stop for nearly three days, he barely knew which way was up. Walking through the door, he saw Qianjin lying flat on the floor, but Heibao didn’t come to greet him:

“Hey? Where’s Heibao?”

“It’s Liu Xiaohu’s birthday; he picked him up for the day.”

Shen Xing collapsed into the sofa, sprawling out completely. Qianjin trotted over, nuzzled against his leg twice, and looked up at him. Shen Xing had the unique ability to read complex emotions on a furry face with a single glance. He felt that Qianjin looked somewhat aggrieved. Rubbing the dog’s head, he noticed the half-eaten can of food:

“Oh? Why isn’t the canned food finished?”

Jiang Lin got up, warmed a glass of milk, and handed it to Shen Xing:

“Heibao is still jealous. The two furbabies have been in a cold war. Now that Heibao is gone, Qianjin is completely wilted.”

Having been so busy his heels were kicking the back of his head these past few days, Shen Xing hadn’t noticed this little drama at all. Taking the milk and downing two mouthfuls, he asked:

“Huh? Heibao is still jealous?”

“Yeah. Yesterday and the day before, Heibao refused to share his food with Qianjin.”

Shen Xing looked down at his moping son, then at the half-finished can of food. Don’t tell me… is he saving this for Heibao? His famously gluttonous dog usually licked the bowl so clean it sparkled!

A rush of fierce, protective affection washed over Shen Xing. He scooped Qianjin into his arms, kissing and coddling him endlessly, internally cursing Heibao as a scumbag for the very first time.

When it rains, it pours. Qianjin was already emotionally fragile, and during his morning walk the next day, Shen Xing let his guard down for just a second. A stray cat darted out from the shrubbery and swiped at Qianjin. Shen Xing and Jiang Lin quickly chased the feral cat away, but Qianjin still caught a nasty scratch along his flank, drawing a visible line of blood.

Already timid by nature, the shock sent Qianjin shrinking into a tight, trembling ball, his ears pinned flat back. Hugging and soothing him, Shen Xing was furious:

“Damn it, where did that feral cat even come from?!”

Seeing the blood, Jiang Lin said:

“We’d better take him to the vet. A scratch like this probably needs a rabies booster.”

At the clinic, they cleaned the wound, administered a rabies booster, and gave him an antibiotic injection, but Qianjin’s condition remained poor, looking thoroughly listless. That afternoon, the Samoyed seemed to develop a mild allergic reaction, prompting Shen Xing to rush him back to the clinic. Thankfully, it turned out to be minor. They arrived back home that evening just as Liu Xiaohu was dropping Heibao off.

Looking up, Heibao saw Qianjin cradled securely in Shen Xing’s arms. His sensitive nose immediately caught an unfamiliar, medicinal scent. He rushed to Shen Xing’s side, pacing anxiously around him in circles, desperately trying to inspect the white furball in his arms.

Once inside, Qianjin immediately curled up in his dog bed. His white ears drooped limply, completely devoid of energy. When Heibao wagged his tail and nudged up beside him, Qianjin merely lifted his head briefly before turning away and burying his face back into his paws.

Shen Xing gave Heibao’s head an assertive rub and cracked open a fresh can of food. As the savory aroma wafted out, Heibao used his paw to slide the open can right to the edge of Qianjin’s bed. He then leaned in, sniffing Qianjin all over and gently nuzzling his neck, showing absolutely zero trace of the icy aloofness from the past two days.

But whether due to physical discomfort or resentment over having his canned food withheld for two days, the normally gluttonous Samoyed resisted the temptation entirely. He didn’t lift his head, nor did he acknowledge Heibao in the slightest.

Watching the two of them, Shen Xing stood to the side and laughed:

“So your family’s scumbag isn’t jealous anymore?”

Jiang Lin: “…”

That night, Heibao stood constant guard by Qianjin’s bed, using his paws to push both the canned food and the water bowl right to the edge. The moment the white furball stirred, Heibao’s head would snap up, eager to inch closer and nuzzle him. But whenever he approached, Qianjin would shrink away, even puffing his fur up slightly in annoyance. Defeated, Heibao had no choice but to retreat and lie down at a respectful distance.

Perhaps lingering shock from the attack played a part, but Qianjin ate very little over the next two days, spending most of his time resting with his eyes closed, stripped of his usual bouncy vitality. It took three or four days of careful rest at home for the abdominal scratch to scab over and heal, finally bringing a sliver of his energy back.

Throughout it all, Heibao shadowed Qianjin relentlessly, leaving his portion of canned food untouched for Qianjin every single day. Having refused to eat it for days, Qianjin finally relented on the third day and finished Heibao’s offering.

Heibao’s eyes lit up instantly. Wagging his tail, he leaned in to nuzzle Qianjin’s neck—only for the Samoyed to deliberately dodge his advance.

Witnessing this exact moment, Shen Xing couldn’t help but praise his silly dog internally. Good boy. At least my silly dog has a little backbone.