Taming the Fierce Hound | Chapter 17 | Learning Martial Arts | Novela.app

Zong Yan tugged on the leash and threw Si Jiang into the bathroom. The man was still in shock, his gaze glued to her, unsure of what would happen next. Was she going to lock him up? Punish him? Compared to being abandoned, that… wasn’t entirely unacceptable. Si Jiang tried to persuade himself, suppressing the urge to flee this space. “Take off your clothes.” Zong Yan’s tone was no different from a command. “…” His scarred hands moved to his body, removing his shirt and pants. Only a pair of underwear remained, caught on his hips. Si Jiang grabbed the waistband, about to pull it down without the slightest hesitation. “Keep that on.” Zong Yan spoke to stop him. He lowered his hands to his sides and stood quietly in place, waiting for his next instruction. If his physique had once resembled a cheetah on the plains—sleek and explosive with power— Then the body now in Zong Yan’s eyes had become a deer that had already been preyed upon, barely clinging to life. The robust strength of an adult man had withered into the thinness of an adolescent. A flawless jade once nurtured in luxury had shattered into cracked, weathered stone. Zong Yan tied the leash to a chain and went to fetch a bucket of water. “You’re too dirty. I like clean pets.” Ladle after ladle of cold water poured over Si Jiang’s head. The flow washed over wounds of all sizes on his body, burning and stinging, turning red and swollen. What a pitiful drowned dog. Si Jiang made no complaint. With a swollen, hoarse voice, he rasped, “I understand. I’ll clean myself.” He scrubbed his body forcefully, as if trying to grind away a layer of skin that belonged to his past. Even as wounds split open and blood flowed, turning into pink water pooling on the floor, he did not stop. Because Zong Yan had not told him to stop. Summer passed into autumn. Zong Yan officially entered her junior year. She also received good news. After the earthquake, many students’ situations had changed, so scholarships and grants would be reopened for application. The old professor had likely been frightened by the earthquake, suddenly realizing how fragile life was. Even his expression had become much kinder than before. He changed Zong Yan’s usual score to a passing grade. With that, she now met all the scholarship requirements. Several classmates were gone. The familiar faces that remained still carried traces of grief. Zong Yan showed no reaction. She didn’t even know who was missing or what their names had been. But her roommates had survived. Lucky them. They had even organized several activities in class to pray for or commemorate Si Jiang. A group of them cried dramatically, putting on a sentimental display. Zong Yan listened to the beginning, then turned and walked away. Near lunchtime, Zong Yan checked her phone. She had received a text message with a photo. The contact name was saved as: Pet. “I woke up at 10:30. I mopped the living room floor, then reheated last night’s leftovers. I’m about to eat now.” Zong Yan replied: “Mm.” “What time does Master finish class today? Are you going to work? Around what time will you be home?” Before Zong Yan could reply, another message came: “I’m not urging you. Just asking.” Si Jiang clutched his phone nervously, guessing at her reaction on the other side of the screen. She wouldn’t find him annoying, would she? He anxiously chewed on his chopsticks, his eyes fixed on the chat window. He shouldn’t have asked. Why couldn’t he stop himself? His teeth gnawed at the chopsticks obsessively, leaving deep marks. Then—whoosh—a message arrived. He hurried to read it. “I have something after class. Handle dinner yourself. I should be home around eight.” Eight… so late. Si Jiang set down his bowl and chopsticks, suddenly losing his appetite. But then another message came. He opened it, and his lips couldn’t help but curve upward. “I asked you to report your activities. You can ask about mine too. A pet’s curiosity is normal.” Master wasn’t angry. She allowed him to ask when she’d be home! Did that mean he was doing well? After replying, “Mm, then I’ll wait for you to come back,” Si Jiang happily exited the message screen. This was his old phone. When Zong Yan brought him home, she had picked it up along the way. Aside from the cracked screen and months of unpaid service, it still worked. When she returned it to him, she had even paid the phone bill. A device capable of accessing the internet and contacting anyone freely—she had returned it to him without hesitation. As if testing his loyalty. And he had upheld his vow. After sending the message, Si Jiang set the phone aside, completely unlike his former self, who had been addicted to the internet. Before, aside from sports and socializing, he loved gaming the most. His phone was filled with popular mobile games and social apps. Wherever he went, he had always been the center of attention. But now, months later, after getting his phone back, aside from texting Zong Yan, he hadn’t opened a single other app. He didn’t miss that hollow sense of presence. At first, there had been missed calls from his contacts during the earthquake, and messages on WeChat asking about him. Si Jiang deleted them all. And never opened those apps again. Without Master’s permission, he wouldn’t do anything unnecessary. After all, in society, he was already a dead man. Even if someone had once thought of him, time was terrifying—it could erase all fleeting emotions. So why not be a pet now, one who was noticed and accompanied? That evening, Zong Yan wasn’t going to work. She was going to meet someone. An elder she had known since childhood. From afar, the middle-aged woman on the sofa waved at her excitedly. She dressed in a simple, androgynous style, with neat short hair, looking vibrant and energetic. She didn’t look like a woman nearing forty at all. “Zong Yan, come sit. It’s been so many years since we last met. Luckily my mom mentioned you last time…” Zong Yan listened gently, nodding occasionally. This was Wang Yao, owner of a martial arts training center. But when Zong Yan first met her, she had only been a poorly paid taekwondo coach. Back then, Zong Yan had been secretly learning outside the classroom when Wang Yao caught her. After realizing Zong Yan wasn’t a registered student, Wang Yao grabbed her by the collar and dragged her into a corner, saying bluntly: “Little girl, if you want to learn, your parents should pay first. You know this is freeloading?” She reached out to pat Zong Yan’s shoulder, but froze mid-motion. Only then did she notice Zong Yan’s condition. Thin. Malnourished. Skin and bones. Most importantly, covered in injuries. There were even finger marks on her neck. As if burned, Wang Yao quickly withdrew her hand and asked awkwardly, “What happened to you? Were you bullied by classmates? You should tell your parents.” Just don’t blame her. “I don’t have money. My family doesn’t have money.” The silent little Zong Yan finally spoke. “I’m just watching outside. That’s not illegal.” Her words left Wang Yao speechless. “Kid, that’s shameless. I’m going to kick you out.” She rolled up her sleeve, flexing her muscles half-jokingly. “See? I’m very strong. One finger is enough to deal with you.” Little Zong Yan bit her lip and lowered her head unwillingly. Wang Yao suddenly felt ashamed of herself. Why was she bullying a child? “Hey, you…” Little Zong Yan walked away. A week later, Wang Yao saw her again outside the window. This time, seeing fresh injuries on her, Wang Yao finally asked: “Who did this to you?” Little Zong Yan raised her head. Her untrimmed bangs hung over her eyes. Those young eyes held no sadness. No fear. Only emptiness. “There’s a man following me. He tried to grab me. Last time he dragged me into an alley and tried to take off my clothes. I bit his face and ran away. Yesterday I saw him again. He dragged me into a car. I refused. He hit me. I kicked him and escaped.” Wang Yao stared, stunned. This child calmly describing near assault. Where were her parents? “They won’t care.” Little Zong Yan answered before she could ask. “I just want to know how to stop being pinned down so easily. How can I become stronger than them?” From then on, Wang Yao eventually accepted her as a student. She taught her self-defense. She taught her discipline. She taught her how to survive. Now, years later, they met again. Zong Yan handed Wang Yao the design drawings. “This is the final design based on your ideas.” Wang Yao flipped through them excitedly. “You should’ve told me you were this capable! I can introduce you to jobs. This pays much better than manual labor.” After the earthquake, many people needed rebuilding. “This is your chance to make money,” Wang Yao said. “Thank you, Sister Yao,” Zong Yan replied. She didn’t refuse. Just then, a long-haired man approached and sat beside Wang Yao, smiling gently. He helped organize her papers, rinsed utensils with hot water, and set them neatly. It was her husband. Ten years married. Still deeply in love. Zong Yan lowered her head thoughtfully. Later, she walked home alone. Across barren land. Up an abandoned building. As she took out her key, she heard hurried footsteps inside. The door opened from within. Her pet let out a breath of relief. “You’re finally back.” “Mm,” Zong Yan replied softly. “I’m back.”