Chapter Sixty-Three: The Loyal Hound

“Woof! Woof!” Suddenly, a few barks echoed from inside the house.

I lowered my head to look at the live broadcast on my phone—the little ghost on the table had already vanished without a trace.

Ding-dong, ding-dong—I pressed the doorbell frantically.

The door opened, and Qi appeared behind it, her face showing signs of exhaustion.

“Boss Zhang, why are you…”

“Cut the nonsense. Did you see that little ghost?”

She nodded.

“But it’s already disappeared. Anything else?” Qi blocked the doorway with her body, clearly not wanting me to enter her apartment. Perhaps she was streaming live and didn’t want me to disrupt her broadcast.

I found it laughable—here I was, rushing over out of concern for her, and this was how she responded?

Glancing inside, the place was small and utterly chaotic—nothing like the image of an online goddess. The table was cluttered with wrappers, plastic bags, bottles, and cigarette butts scattered everywhere. A peculiar odor permeated the air, a mixture of various foods.

There was no sign of the little ghost, but in the corner of the room, I suddenly spotted a familiar figure.

A yellow dog!

It must be the yellow dog from Hu Sandao’s family. Why was it here in Qi’s apartment?

“Qi, have you seen a yellow dog or heard any strange barking?”

“Are you out of your mind, coming here with nonsense like that? I haven’t heard anything!”

I swallowed my irritation and warned her again to follow whatever the little ghost said, not to act rashly.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Don’t disrupt my stream.”

With a bang, she slammed the door shut.

Leaving the building, anger simmered in my chest with nowhere to vent. I kicked a can on the ground with a loud clang.

Damn it, kindness really is wasted on the ungrateful!

The can rolled down the road, clattering noisily.

As I walked on, the can rolled back toward me, rattling as it came.

What?

I was sure I’d kicked it away—so why had it returned?

I kicked the can again, and soon enough, as if pushed by some unseen force, it rolled back to me.

A chill crept over me as I quickened my pace toward the main road.

But the can seemed to have a navigation system, trailing right behind me. Wherever I went, it followed, even turning corners and leaping over obstacles.

I sat on a bench by the roadside and watched as the can floated up into the air…

Could this really be some kind of haunting?

Determined, I resolved to see what was behind this.

Little by little, the can drifted closer until it hovered right by my feet.

“Woof!” Suddenly, the image of a yellow dog appeared. It carried the can in its mouth and laid it gently at my feet.

“Woof, woof,” the dog wagged its tail enthusiastically, looking up at me with bright eyes.

“Do you want to play?” I chuckled softly. This was no vengeful spirit—just like any pet dog.

I tossed the can into the distant grass. The yellow dog pounced after it, rustling through the undergrowth, and soon returned, dropping the can beside me, mouth open, tail wagging furiously.

I reached out to stroke it. There was no physical sensation, but it rubbed against my trousers, showing clear delight.

“From Huanhuan, to the dog meat shop, to Qi—it’s always been you seeking me out, hasn’t it?”

I stroked the air, murmuring to myself.

The yellow dog barked once, sitting upright in front of me, tail still wagging.

“If only you could talk. I need to go home now.”

Any passerby would have been terrified: a man talking to thin air in the middle of the night—a scene straight out of a ghost story.

“Woof!” The dog called out, looking as if it had something to say, but words eluded it.

It turned and ran off into the darkness.

Back at my shop, I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep.

This dog spirit was nothing like the bloodthirsty fiend Hu Sandao described.

All living things have souls—there must be a story here.

Half-asleep, I felt my body falling, sinking, as if floating away.

The sensation was so real, it made me feel the urge to pee—a feeling that filled my mind.

Damn, am I really going to wet the bed at my age?

Fortunately, I didn’t search for a bathroom in my dream.

Scenes shifted rapidly before my eyes, and when I regained awareness, I was in a narrow alley.

It looked like the city hadn’t been renovated yet—crisscrossing alleys, and unlike today’s cold silence, the air was filled with vendors’ shouts, the laughter of children playing, neighbors gossiping at street corners.

This place felt familiar.

It seemed to be the alley behind Hu Sandao’s workshop.

Instinctively, I headed that way—after all that had happened with the dog spirit, there were things I wanted to ask him.

Lost in thought, I walked on as rain began to fall, a fine drizzle that sent people scurrying. Everyone hurried home—some grabbing laundry, some packing up stalls, others calling for their children.

The alley soon emptied, the only sound the steady patter of rain on the eaves.

Strangely, the rain didn’t touch me.

It seemed to pass right through me, hitting the stone pavement below.

“Woof! Woof!” A sharp, fierce bark rang out. I dashed toward the source.

Turning the corner, I saw a massive mastiff at the end of the alley, facing a mother and daughter.

The mastiff was nearly two meters long, a fierce beast, barking wildly at the pair.

I rushed forward and tried to shield the mother and daughter, waving my arms to shoo the mastiff away.

But neither the woman, the child, nor the dog reacted to me.

Only then did I realize—this was one of my empathic visions.

The mastiff was jet-black, its coat glossy and powerful, its temper foul as it snarled at the pair.

The mother quietly shielded her daughter, eyes fixed nervously on the dog.

“Mommy, doggy!” The little girl, unaware of the danger, tried to reach out and pet the mastiff.

The dog, enraged, lunged forward, jaws full of sharp teeth snapping at the child.

With a wet rip, blood spattered the ground. The mother had leapt in front of her daughter, taking the vicious bite on her arm. Blood poured freely.

The mother didn’t cry out in pain. Smiling, she told her daughter, “Sweetie, run home and find Daddy.”

“Mommy, come with me.” The girl was too young to sense the peril.

The mastiff tightened its grip, shaking the woman’s arm violently.

She stumbled, collapsing to the ground.

Only then did the girl start to cry.

The scent of blood excited the mastiff. One bite, another, a third—it bit through the woman’s skin again and again, until she was writhing on the ground, soaked in blood.

Yet she still managed to turn her head, waving her daughter away, urging her to run.

But the little girl was frozen in terror, unable to move.

The mastiff raised its head, licking the blood from its jaws, letting out a triumphant, frenzied howl.

The mother reached out with trembling hands, feebly beating at the dog’s leg where it pinned her down.

This only maddened the mastiff further. This time, it bit deep into her neck…

“Woof! Woof!” Barking sounded in the distance as a yellow dog raced toward them, launching itself at the mastiff.

Though much smaller, the yellow dog showed no fear.

It snarled and bit at the mastiff, undaunted even as it sustained wounds of its own.

The mastiff began to falter, finally retreating from the yellow dog’s assault.

The yellow dog continued to snarl until the mastiff, after a moment’s hesitation, turned and slunk away.

The yellow dog did not pursue it. It glanced back at the mother and daughter—the little girl sat on the ground, stunned, neither crying nor moving.

Her mother lay still in a pool of blood.

The rain poured harder as the yellow dog approached, nudging its mistress with its nose, but she didn’t react.

Noticing her wounds, the dog began to lick them, as if trying to heal her.

As the rain intensified, the little girl wept, and the yellow dog tried to carry her under the eaves to shelter.

At that moment, Hu Sandao appeared.

“Wife! What happened? Wake up!”

He knelt before his wife, seeing blood streaming from her body, pooling around her neck.

He looked at the yellow dog, its mouth stained with blood, as it tried to help the girl.

Enraged, he shouted, “Ungrateful beast, I’ll kill you!”

He kicked the yellow dog and grabbed a stick from the wall, bringing it down hard on the dog’s head.

The vision ended abruptly.

Only the sounds remained—Hu Sandao’s sobbing shouts, the yellow dog’s whimpering, the little girl’s crying, and the distant wail of ambulance sirens.

“Woof!” The rain stopped, the vision faded, and I realized I was in a dark space, with the yellow dog approaching me, regret and sorrow in its eyes.

I stroked its head, and it barked twice in gratitude. The dream shattered into fragments.